Wednesday, September 28, 2016

The Secret Garden (Act 2) or the Best of the Best

So our quick recap for Act 1: Mary Lennox, an orphaned misanthrope, learns to relate to other people while searching for a secret garden and Archibald Craven, a widowed hunchback, tries unsuccessfully to complete the grieving process.

Highlights:

The Girl I Mean to Be - Mary finally gets a solo! Though I Heard Someone Crying could be considered her initial character song, she had to share it with Archibald and Lily. Plus, she made so much character growth in the first act that she’s almost a different person. This song plays to that theme, and also to the idea that a girl needs a space to be herself--to even work out who she is in her own mind. I really enjoy this song,

I'd also like to point out the first stanza:

“I need a place where I can go,
Where I can whisper what I know.
Where I can whisper who I like
And where I go to see them.”

Do you see it? It's easier to see in text than it is to hear while driving, but the first time I heard it I had to listen to it again to make sure I heard it right. The writers used the inclusive ”them” instead of the heteronormative “him”. It would have been totally unnoticeable if they had, “him” scans fine and rhymes with the next stanza. Instead they used the inclusive “them”, and that's really cool. Even if it is only one word, it’s a word that matters.

Quartet - a song that both moves the plot forward and gives us a background flashback. It seems to support Neville trying to help his brother, albeit in a misguided and ultimately harmful way. It also gives us another chance for Lily to speak for herself, this time to Rose (Mary's mother) as she adamantly defends her decision to marry Archibald. I like that we hear from the women themselves instead of hearing about them from other people (I'm probably never going to stop bringing up how rare it is for deceased characters, particularly women, to get a chance to speak for themselves rather than be spoken for, usually by a man).

Wick - a song about bringing the garden back to life, I just like singing along with this song. It reminds me a bit of the power ballads of my 80’s childhood, but that might just be the nostalgia talking.

Hold On - I have a special place in my heart for this song. I'll talk more about the return of the storm motif and the role of Martha in relation to Mary later, but that's later. Hold On is a really powerful theme for anyone who happens to be going through a rough patch in their life. Depending on your situation, it could be about enduring a difficult time that will pass. But equally, it could be about standing up for your right to be heard and changing the situation into one more suited to you. It was the song that I needed at a time when I didn’t know I needed it. So for everyone else who feels like things are getting too rough: Hang in there, it gets better.

Plot Specifics:  So when we left off, there had been something of a kerffufle when Mary discovered Colin Craven hidden inside Misselthwaite. At There was a storm of outrage and Mrs. Medlock barred Mary from seeing Colin again. Well, if you've read the book, you know that lasts about five minutes until Colin puts his foot down and demands to see Mary as often as he likes. Mary and Colin butt heads regarding her visitation schedule, but the musical skips over all that entirely. More importantly, Mary found the door to the garden that she's been looking for.

So after the stormy climax of the first act, the second act opens with the gentle The Girl I Mean to Be. Which is the peak of Mary’s character arc--and the end of her misanthropy. Mary has one or two setbacks after this, but she's moved fully into the realm of normal human relationships. It's not really a powerful song, but it's one I like to listen to when I want to relax.

Of course, the calm can't last forever (we have a whole second act to get through), and Quartet is a roller coaster of emotions--being both a plot song and a flashback song. Archibald has been having dreams of Lily and Mary standing in Lily’s garden and he feels he has to flee from his memories and grief. Neville is only too happy to let him do it, thinking that forgetting would be the best thing for his brother. The fact that he would then control the house and lands is only incidental to him--or at least that's what he tells himself. Neville suggests sending Mary away--she's the one who reminds them of Lily, and if she were to go, they could get on with the process of forgetting--but Archibald refuses, unwilling to send her away from even so poor a home as Misselthwaite.

Interwoven here we also get a flashback scene between Rose and Lily. We already knew Lily was in love with Archibald, but after the revelation of Neville’s interest, this song cements her interest in Archibald against the wishes of her family. Interestingly, both Rose and Neville want the same thing for Archibald, for him to leave and forget Lily. A point which serves to illustrate how misguided Neville is in his attempt to “help" his brother.

Speaking of misguided attempts to help, Neville has also forbidden Archibald from letting Colin see him--maybe the sight of his father will cause Colin to grow a hunchback? I don't know, I just chalked it up to the terrible medical practices of the time. Anyway, Archibald still looks in on him, and has for the last ten years. Remember Round Shouldered Man from Act 1? Well, Race You to the Top of the Morning is it's companion song (told you we'd be talking about it again). If you recall, Colin sang about a “round shouldered man” who say with a book and carried him on his shoulders until dawn. Archibald sings the flip side of that, reading to Colin from a book and dreaming of running with Colin across the moors. Perhaps Colin isn't quite as asleep as he thinks.

Beyond that, however, there's a lot to unpack here. This is the first time that we see Archibald show affection for anyone--before this he always acts out of duty (taking Mary in, for example) rather than genuine emotion. Though it’s implied that he comes to look in on Colin regularly, we can also read this as the effect Mary’s presence is having on the household--forcing people (namely Archibald and Neville) to confront their unresolved emotions even as she learns to interact reasonably with other people. It’s also worth pointing out that Archibald characterizes his physical difference (and his fears for Colin) as a dragon to be slain, an obstacle to overcome, though what’s actually holding him back is grief and fear (which are different kinds of monsters, but no less damaging). And to top it all off, Archibald views Neville as the magical hero who is going to save Colin from illness and physical differences. Neville, you know, the brother that was just waiting patiently for Lily to turn around, realize that he loved her, and betray her husband. I’m not sure whether that’s naivete or blind trust in family or what, but it never actually gets addressed.

Meanwhile, Mary and Dickon get their first good look at the garden. If you remember the book, Mary is convinced that the garden is dead, but Dickon--being more knowledgeable with regards to growing things--knows that it’s not as dead as it looks. Dickon takes the lead in this song, describing how the garden's life is present but hidden. Mary picks up the thread of the song, but she interjects a concern about losing the garden to Archibald or Colin. This is a selfish thought, and one that's totally reasonable for a child who has, up until this point, had nothing, not even the love of her own parents. This garden is the first thing that she’s ever really cared about, the only thing that she feels has brought value to her life, so naturally she is afraid to lose it. Dickon, fortunately, points out how wonderful it would be for Colin to overcome his weakness and helps Mary to move past her fear. After that brief moment, Mary takes over the song and belts out a call to action--admittedly, to a dormant garden, but we all have to start somewhere, right?

Interestingly, before Mary worries about Archibald or Colin reclaiming the garden, Dickon refers to the garden as “it”, but after he reassures her, Dickon refers to the garden as “she”. I’m not entirely certain what this represents, but I think in part Dickon is acknowledging Mary’s ownership of the garden, and in part he is singing about Mary and her growing emotional awareness of others.

Mary tells Colin of their work and her hopes for its success and he expresses his interest in seeing it. Which leads to a vision of Lily in Colin’s room as she invites him to the garden (Come to My Garden/Lift Me Up). I have to admit, I don’t listen to this song very often. Part of it is that we hear it a lot in the course of the musical--it’s Lily’s transition theme, so we hear the melody almost every time she shows up. The other part of it though, is that I’m not sure how I feel about a “woman as mother” song. Up until this point, Lily has walked the line between nuanced character with agency and prototypical wife. We saw this in Quartet, though, in part, it was obscured by the plurality of voices. The lines: “I will live for him / live just to love him” aren’t exactly progressive, especially when we’re talking about a female character whose death existed primarily to advance the narrative of male characters. There’s a lot of gender essentialist emotional labor placed on Lily at the end of Quartet and in Come to My Garden/Lift Me Up that I’m not entirely sure how to read. Given that the musical writers were constrained by the existing novel, I’m more inclined to blame this particular situation on Burnett, but your milage may vary.

So the children gather in the garden. Mary and Dickon invoke the garden’s spirit to help Colin take his first steps (Come Spirit, Come Charm). The last couple seconds also include Martha praising Mary for her success. This is a bit of a divergence from the book, since Book Colin take his first steps out of anger at Ben, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. Martha plays a bigger role in the musical as Mary’s mentor, so it only makes sense that she would also be a part of their garden party. Also, does anyone else have questions about where Neville picked up his medical degree? Assuming no malevolence (which I don’t think there’s enough evidence to support), how did he think his treatment plan was going to work? I have questions!

I was actually sort of dreading this song. This scene was particularly awful in the 1993 movie with regards to cultural appropriation and even though I was fairly certain the musical wasn’t going to do that, I still wasn’t looking forward to it. But it turned out okay, after all. Yay!

We also get a reprise of A Bit of Earth, contrasted this time as an ode to growth and renewal instead of hopelessness and despair.

Then the musical takes a sharp turn away from the novel. It’s a change that makes sense from a dramatic standpoint. The novel itself doesn’t have much of central conflict to resolve in a powerful climax. Having set up Neville as an antagonist, the musical makes full use of him to drive the plot forward. Of course, this change also gives me one of my favorite songs, so I might be a bit biased.

Neville, unhappy with Mary’s meddling in deep medical matters that she, as a mere girl, cannot possibly understand (did you read that with a sarcastic eye roll, because I certainly meant it that way), declares that she is to be sent away to a boarding school. Mary, being full of youthful independent sass, accuses Neville of self interested scheming. I fully expected a fight song here, but since Neville has all of the power in this situation he slaps her (at which point I got a little upset on Mary’s behalf--I might have shouted a bit--what can I say, I got attached to fictional characters) and reiterates his intention of sending her away.

This threat of being sent off to boarding school is Mary’s first real setback. Oh, she’s had other little bumps in her road: Ben not showing her the door, Dickon refusing to help her find the key, thinking that the garden was dead. But all of them were quickly resolved and weren’t really significant. This is the first time in the musical she’s actually had something at risk. Perhaps, considering her parent’s neglect, it’s the first time she’s ever cared about something enough that losing it is a risk.

As a listener who’s already familiar with storytelling conventions, I already know how it’s going to turn out. The whole story starts off with a tragedy (Mary’s parents’ deaths) and slowly climbs with a series of increasingly powerful triumphs, until we get to this final hurdle. If it were going to turn out badly, things would have started on a high note and then gotten increasingly worse as the story progressed. Also, I read the book.

As a listener, I know ALL of this, and I was still desperately waiting to see how Mary was going to handle this (I sat in my car in my work parking lot listening just to find out).

Okay, so Mary goes to Martha convinced that it will be her fault if Colin dies--either because she pushed him too hard or her absence at boarding school will cause a regression. Martha points out that this is nonsense. That Mary has gotten Colin to where he is and that she can't stop now. This is where we get  the song that speaks most strongly to me, Hold On.

Remember back in Act 1 where the storm songs preceded the climax songs (Lily’s Eyes for Archibald and Neville and Round Shouldered Man for Mary and Colin). Hold On brings back the storm motif as a metaphor for Mary’s emotional turmoil (both her internal conflict and the external reorganization she's catalyzed). Technically, this song doesn't pass the Bechtel-Wallace test because they're singing about Colin and Neville, but it's also about Martha encouraging Mary to do what's right, and the boys are just an excuse. Have I ever mentioned that there’s a distinct absence of women being supportive to other women in musicals? Personally, I blame the prevalence of love triangles as a narrative trope (which tends to pit women against each other, instead of in supportive roles) and the general lack of female characters (which forces them to be adversarial when placed in a love triangle). Fortunately, this musical doesn’t do that.

Martha really gets to take on the role of mentor here, in a way that she didn’t in the books and other characters chose not to. Earlier in the musical, Martha provided the catalyst to get Mary out of doors, Ben left her alone to explore the grounds, and Dickon set her feet on the path, but really left her to find her way on her own. But this isn’t a situation where Mary can find her own way out, and Martha gets to step up and help.

Given Mary's complete lack of power in this situation, there's not really much she can do except write a letter to Archibald asking him to return home. In the book, it's Martha's mother who writes the letter that prompts his return, but the book didn't have a central conflict to resolve by his return, so it makes sense that it would be Mary who does it now that there is. Letter Song is our second Mary/Archibald song and it's a doozy. We finally have our two main characters in a song together for the first time since I Heard Someone Crying. Before there were parallels between Mary's emotional state and Archibald’s but now they're in very different places. Mary has found emotional fulfillment with friends and the garden, whereas Archibald is still stuck in the same place he was at the beginning--trapped by crippling depression. The difference is pretty stark. Mary's part is bright and cheerful, asking Archibald to come home. Archibald’s part is dim and faded, barely touching on the melody as he wanders the streets of Paris.

Eventually, Archibald receives the letter and he is forced to confront his grief instead of running from it. Where In The World is a powerful, angry song that captures the conflicting feelings people have when they lose loved ones. Archibald rages at Lily, still unable to deal with the loss, and still upset that she left him alone with no way to deal with her loss.

Lily, however, finally gets a chance to respond (How Could I Ever Know). She reminds him that they have a son and that he might try caring for the garden that she loved so dearly. To be fair, it’s not really Archibald’s fault that he basically abandoned his son (you can blame Neville and his terrible, terrible medical advice for that). The song itself is sweet and quiet, not so much an end to Archibald's grief, but a way for him to grieve in a more healthy way.

The rest is mostly spoken wrap up. There aren’t many diversions from the book here. Archibald comes home, finds the children running around in the garden (including the son he thought was unable to walk), and everyone gets a (relatively) happy ending. Colin is well. Dickon and his family are provided for--probably into perpetuity. And Mary is settled in at Misselthwaite as Archibald’s presumptive adoptive child. The only lose end is Neville, we never really find out what he does after his poor medical advice and attempt to send Mary away come to naught. But I’m okay with that.

And that’s the end. Whew, that took longer than I thought.

Adaptation Corner: I should admit right now that I'm a bit of an adaptation junkie. Even if I think it's going to be awful, I can't resist watching TV and movie adaptations of books I enjoy. Which is why I've seen at least three made for tv versions of the Secret Garden, watched the 1993 film in theaters, and read a continuation novel (which I deeply regret purchasing), and they all featured some pretty significant problematic elements (including unexamined cultural appropriation--1993 film, I’m looking at you). So I went into this one with a bit of trepidation, not because I was afraid of a poor adaptation (I had gotten enough glowing reviews from friends whose opinions I trust, that a bad adaptation was probably impossible), but once burned and all that. Plus the book itself has some elements that young me glossed over, but adult me cringes at (colonialism, classism, ableism...you get the idea). But the thing that most adaptations get wrong (and the musical absolutely gets right) is the introduction of an unnecessary romance between the children. I know, it’s a genre trope, true (monogamous romantic) love will fix everything. Somehow, it's always romantic love, not filial love or platonic love (and it's always a monogamous heterosexual romance, but that's a different argument and not relevant to this musical). But seriously, these children aren’t even teenagers yet (well, maybe Dickon). The last thing they need is to be involved in a romantic subplot. Yet almost every adaptation ages them up to adulthood and pairs one of the boys with Mary as part of a flashback framing device (usually killing off the other boy in WWI). Don’t even get me started on the “romantic” convolutions of that continuation novel, it was enough to turn me off of fanfiction for years.

The musical, however, absolutely refuses to introduce any element of romance between the children. Instead, it innovates by exploring the established romance between Archibald and Lily; thus maintaining the genre trope while still allowing the children to remain children. This has the added advantage of giving Lily a voice--something entirely absent from all other adaptations (and, full disclosure, not something I noticed until I heard the musical). I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this. There’s no good reason why Lily’s character should be left as a tragic and unknowable figure--Colin’s mother, Archibald’s wife, but not a person in her own right. Plenty of other adaptations have taken many liberties with other characters. There’s no reason why none of them should have left Lily as the sole untouched one when her absence is so central to Archibald’s tragedy and Colin’s dysfunction. So we get a romance subplot (and I do enjoy a good romance subplot, just not one involving children in need of therapy) with fully realized characters who are active participants in the choices they make. Interestingly, Archibald, Neville, and Lily make up a sort of failed trio that we get to see through flashbacks and songs that show their disassociation with each other. In contrast, Mary, Colin, and Dickon make up a successful trio, because of their shared interest in the garden, but also (I would argue) because they don’t have the looming spectre of romance to separate them with jealousy. Consider Archibald and Neville. Yes, they’re divided by Neville’s conflict of interest regarding the house and lands, and also by his questionable medical practices with regards to Colin, but the origin of their divide comes because of Neville’s unrequited (and unadmitted) romantic interest in Lily. For the children, romance isn’t even a consideration--it’s only as adults that we feel the need to impose a romantic structure on their relationship (hence the aging up and pairing up that’s so prevalent)--and they’re better for it.

Themes: I’ve mostly covered all of the important characters. This is really Mary’s story and her entire arc is fairly well covered. There might be a bit to say about Archibald and the stages of grief that he expresses in the course of the songs, but I’m not really well versed in that sort of thing.

So let's talk about Neville. I'm going to start with the good things, in part because there’s so little good to discuss, and in part to keep the rest in perspective. It’s important to remember that Neville’s not evil, just misguided. I think he honestly cares about his brother and wants to do what’s best for Colin--but the terrible medical practices of the period along with an unhealthy lack of self awareness makes him, not just ineffective, but actively harmful. Intent matters, but it doesn’t stop people from getting hurt.

That’s pretty much it for the positive things I have to say about Archibald’s brother. The man is a complete character, but he has so many red flags of male entitlement. Okay, so just to recap, Lily’s Eyes is the song where Neville makes the connection between Mary and Lily--based entirely on appearance, which is a little icky. On top of that, this is the same song where we find out that Neville has a romantic interest in his sister-in-law. There’s something a little sick about sitting around waiting for Lily to notice that he’s in love with her. Especially after acknowledging that she’s the first person to bring her brother happiness. It’s like a really extreme version of the friendzone.

(If you’re not aware, “the friendzone” is the idea that “nice guys” will never be in a sexual relationship with a woman who sees them only as a friend. Now, the problem with this, is that “the friendzone” presupposes that a friendship between a man and a woman is secondary to the potential for the man to have sex with the woman. If you think that a woman who thinks of you as a friend ought to have sex with you because you meet the lowest of the low bars of human relationships, then you’re not much of a friend.)

It’s made even worse when you realize that, if Neville were to achieve his desire, his brother would again be left alone, bereft of happiness. It’s like Neville never even considers the consequences his actions have on others. His romantic interest is all that matters. The fact that it’s his brother’s wife and that they have a child together doesn’t even seem to matter to him. Male entitlement folks, Neville has it.

Final Score: A+ (pretty much as close to perfect as you can get)

Next Up: If/Then, a braided narrative about taking happiness where you can find it.

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