By: Nissim Farhy  | 

Hadestown: A Tragedy Retold

We inhabit an era where the words “I love you” are taboo, where to confide with someone about your feelings for them, platonically or romantically, is to open a gate of pain and heartache. And, where to put yourself in a vulnerable situation may be social suicide. It is precisely at this time that social isolation is so prevalent and feelings of hopelessness are highest among our cohort. However, an old Greek legend retold has the power to change this narrative. 

This summer I attended a musical titled “Hadestown” written by Anaïs Mitchell, which retells the Greek legend about Orpheus and Eurydice while maintaining its relevance to the current era and its sensitivities. 

The play is set in what Mitchell describes as a “mythic space, not tethered to any particular time or place … but takes inspiration from the Great Depression era.” This setting allows the play to be free of conventional norms and anachronisms.

The play begins where it ends, with Hermes, the god of messages saying: 

“It’s an old song,

 It’s an old tale from way back when,

 It’s an old song,

 But we’re gonna sing it again.” 

“It’s a sad song,

 It’s a sad tale, 

 It's a tragedy. 

 It’s a sad song. 

 But we sing it anyway.”

The scene opens with the optimistic Orpheus, in the adaptation a poor waiter, who finds the pessimistic Eurydice, a bereft bootstrapper, hungry for a morsel of food. Hermes explains that Persephone, the goddess of the spring, leaves for hell for half the year to be with her lover Hades, the god of the underworld. This commute, which is necessary because of the love lost between Hades and Persophone, leaves the Earth cold and hungry for that half of the year “which is where the seasons come from,” Hermes explains. 

Almost immediately Orpheus falls for Eurydice. He soon wins her over when he begins to sing of his love and explains to her that he is working on a song which will “fix what’s wrong, take what’s broken, make it whole.” This song will bring spring back for the whole year. 

Orpheus’ optimism is imagined as a foil to Eurydice’s pragmatism. In contrast, Hades’ pragmatism is viewed as a foil to Persophone’s optimism. These countervailing attitudes towards love of the jaded couple have spelled doom for their relationship and augur the same for Orpheus and Eurydice. The young couple’s naive love has not withstood any trevails which makes failure ever more likely.

In the original story Eurydice is bitten by a snake after her wedding and without agency is brought to the underworld. In contrast, Mitchell imagines Orpheus as so enraptured by his desire to make the perfect song, that he ignores Eurydice. So that Eurydice out of sheer desperation and hunger is tricked into making a deal with the devil himself — selling her soul for hell’s warmth. 

Orpheus, realizing his catastrophic error, utilizes his very pitfall to his advantage. With lyre in hand he seduces Charon, the ferryman of the underworld, with his music to bring him to Hades: alive. When encountering Hades, Orpheus begins to sing the song that he has been working on. This very song that caused him to lose Eurydice turns out to be the same song that young Hades used to woo over Persephone. This reminds the stone-hearted devil of his own naive young love. 

It now dawns that the song that Orpheus was working on was not some music that will merely cure the weather, but rather the song that all young lovers feel. Both the song of Orpheus and Eurydice but also the song of the now-jaded goddess of spring and lord of the underworld. In his naivety, Orpheus abandoned the exact thing that would “fix what’s wrong”: namely his love with Eurydice that would fix the lost love between Hades and Persephone. Sometimes, we are so focused on attaining the epitome of love that we ignore to actually say it. 

Moved to song by Orpehus’ love song — a song he knows too well —  Hades allows Orpheus with Eurydice to walk on the mythical railroad track out of the underworld. However Hades has one condition. Hermes tells Orpheus, “You won’t be hand in hand, arm in arm or side by side. You have to walk in front and she has to walk in back. And if you make sure she’s coming too, then she goes back to Hadestown and ain’t nothing you can do.”

Hades, after witnessing the demise of his own love, tests the very thing that is most beautiful about young love: trust. As Hermes tells Orphues “You have a lonesome road to walk and it aint along the railroad tracks, the real road lies between your ears behind your eyes that is the path to paradise and likewise the road to ruin.” Orpheus’ and Eurydice’s love is tested to see if they trust each other and themselves.

The infamous tragedy strikes when Orpheus does look back at the last moment which condemns Eurydice to the underworld forever.

Not skipping a beat after the inevitable tragedy Hermes goes on from the beginning:

“Alright, alright. 

 It’s an old song. 

 It’s an old tale from way back when. 

 It’s an old song. 

 And we’re gonna sing it again and again. 

 Cause, here’s the thing: 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.”

That friend is Orpheus. Orpheus who took the literal leap over faith into love and song, knowing that the end of his journey lay in the lost spring and fiery hell of Hades.

At times we each inhabit the world of both Orpheus and Eurydice. As Mitchell tells Monica Hopper in an interview, “I identify with both Orpheus and Eurydice.” Both characters struggle with self doubt, one on the way into hell and the other on the way out; one when times are tough the other when things are improving. Eurydice the pragmatist doubting anyone can love her when it doesn’t benefit them, and Orpheus the optimist secretly doubting that things can actually improve as he looks back for assurance that someone really trusts him.

The Fates, three sisters in Greek mythology that accompany individuals throughout their life, have thus far served as the subconscious doubts that Orpheus has had in his journey with Eurydice. As Clamence in Albert Camus’ “The Fall,” the Fates believe that altruism and love are only veneers of self-righteousness which eventually crumble. As the Fates pester Orpheus, “What are you going to do when the chips are down?” Similarly, Orpheus and Eurydice throughout the play struggle with trusting the other to really love them.

The mistake they, Hades, Persephone, the Fates and we all make with relationships is that we fundamentally misunderstand them. Relationships are risky ventures, which is what makes them so valuable when they come and so tragic when they leave.

The act of love itself, both platonic and romantic, is naive. The act of being completely emotionally vulnerable to another and allowing them residence next to your heart is outrageous. It is naive that you will continue to love their every quirk and changing demeanor; it is likewise naive to assume that they will continue to embrace our ever-changing and far-from-perfect selves. It is naive to assume that handing your heart over to someone will not result in heartbreak.

This is a far cry from suggesting that we should not engage and indulge in the process of love. Just the opposite, we should embrace love for those very reasons and recognize its ephemerality. We should be like Orpheus and tell the people that we love how we feel. We should put ourselves in situations to indulge in the most sacred of feelings, to be soul locked with another.

This recognition of love is why “we sing [Orpheus’s song] anyway.” It is why after tragedy strikes with Eurydice’s death, the curtains reopen to a young naive Orpheus. It is why this tragedy retold is the oldest love story, as it surpasses cultural norms and hearkens to an internal struggle which love calls to us.

___

Photo Caption: A single red rose that accompanied Orpheus throughout his journey

Photo Credit: Wikimedia Commons