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Working on a Song

Page 11

by Anaïs Mitchell


  WAY DOWN HADESTOWN REPRISE

  Fates

  The deal is signed?

  Eurydice

  Yes

  Fates

  ’Bout time

  Get on the line

  Eurydice

  I did what I had to do

  Fates

  That’s what they did too

  Hermes

  Now, in Hadestown there was a lotta souls

  Workers

  Oh, keep your head, keep your head

  Hermes

  Working on a wall with all their might

  Workers

  Huh! Kkh! Oh you gotta keep your head

  Hermes

  Ya see, they kept their heads down low

  Workers

  Huh! Kkh! If you wanna keep your head

  Hermes

  You couldn’t quite see their faces right . . .

  But you could hear them singing

  Workers

  Oh, keep your head, keep your head

  Hermes

  Swinging their hammers in the cold hard ground

  You could hear the sound of the pick-axe ringing

  Workers

  Huh! Kkh! If you wanna keep your

  Hermes

  And they called it

  Hermes & Workers

  “Freedom”

  Eurydice

  (to Workers) I’m Eurydice

  (to Fates) Doesn’t anybody hear me?

  Fates

  They can hear

  But they don’t care

  No one has a name down here

  Mister Hades set you free

  To work yourself into the ground

  Free to spend eternity

  In the factory

  And the warehouse

  Where the whistles scream

  And the foremen shout

  And you’re punchin’ in

  And punchin’ in

  And punchin’ in

  And you can’t punch out

  And you’re way down Hadestown

  Way down Hadestown

  Way down Hadestown

  Way down under the ground

  Workers

  Oh, keep your head, keep your head

  Low, oh, you gotta keep your head

  Low, if you wanna keep your head

  Oh, keep your head low

  Eurydice

  Why won’t anybody look at me?

  Fates

  They can look

  But they don’t see

  You see?

  It’s easier that way

  Your eyes will look like that someday

  Down in the river of oblivion

  You kissed your little life goodbye

  And Hades laid his hands on ya

  And gave ya everlasting life

  And everlasting overtime

  In the mine

  In the mill

  In the machinery

  Your place on the assembly line

  Replaces all your memories

  Way down Hadestown

  Way down Hadestown

  Way down Hadestown

  Way down under the ground

  Workers

  Oh, keep your head, keep your head

  Low, oh, you gotta keep your head

  Low, if you wanna keep your head

  Oh, keep your head low

  Eurydice

  What do you mean, I’ll look like that?

  Fates

  That’s what it looks like to forget

  Eurydice

  Forget what?

  Fates

  Who you are

  And everything that came before

  Eurydice

  I have to go

  Fates

  Go where?

  Eurydice

  Go back

  Fates

  Oh—and where is that?

  So—what was your name again?

  You’ve already forgotten . . .

  Hermes

  Ya see, it’s like I said before

  A lot can happen behind closed doors

  Eurydice was a hungry young girl

  But she wasn’t hungry anymore

  What she was instead, was dead

  Dead to the world anyway

  Ya see, she went behind those doors

  And signed her life away

  Fates

  Saw that wheel up in the sky

  Heard the big bell tolling

  A lot of souls have gotta die

  To keep the rust belt rolling

  A lot of spirits gotta break

  To make the underworld go round

  Way down Hadestown

  Fates, Workers, Hermes

  Way down under the ground

  Notes on “Way Down Hadestown Reprise”

  Workshops

  The first workshop I did with Rachel was the “tough love” table-read in 2013. Mara was there, but we hadn’t yet linked up with NYTW. I was living in Vermont and had a tiny infant, so the whole family traveled to Manhattan and posted up at a Midtown hotel while we worked. We’d begun to identify missing plot points, and one of them was this: We needed to contextualize Eurydice’s rueful soliloquy “Flowers” by preceding it with an underworld “reality check” that revealed Hadestown for what it was. At first, I envisioned this dark news being delivered to Orpheus by the Fates in a loose reprise of “When the Chips Are Down” and “Gone, I’m Gone.” I shared this at the table-read; it was called “No One Now”:

  Fates: Used to be a blushing bride / That was on the other side / Better to forget her face / Now she’s like the rest of us / One more number in a crowd / Maybe she was someone once / She ain’t no one now

  Used to be a loving wife / That was in another life / Carve it on a marble stone / Now she’s like the rest of us / One more body in the ground / Maybe she was someone once / She ain’t no one now

  Brother, don’t you think we all / Used to have a name to call? / A tale to tell as well as her? / Now she’s like the rest of us . . .

  Maybe when she first arrived / So alive, so naive / All the bright lights in her eyes / All her insides fluttering (alt. Heart aflutter on her sleeve) / Maybe she was someone then / Back when Hades drew her in / Like a moth into his flame / Borne aloft on burning wings / Well, she ain’t the first and she ain’t the last / Hades’ fire is hot and fast / Just ask all the other girls / Sweeping up the ashes in the underworld / See even when the flame is new / She doesn’t hold a candle to / The woman Hades truly loves / So maybe she was someone once / But now she’s like the rest of us / All used up, all burned out / Maybe she was someone once / She ain’t no one now

  The song was discarded—it was more “poetic portraiture,” which posed dramatic challenges, and musically it didn’t “swing”—but a lot of the language was recycled a year later when I wrote the first version of the “Way Down Hadestown Reprise.” I wrote it in preparation for a very different workshop: NYTW’s summer residency at Dartmouth College in New Hampshire. This was an immersive two-week creative love affair in which a whole group of very game New Yorkers rehearsed all day and hung out all night, passing around guitars and whiskey and often continuing to rehearse for fun.

  I was still trying to achieve a pre-“Flowers” reality check. I knew I wanted the music to be dark, but not slow; “Flowers” is a dreamy number, and to precede it with any kind of sluggishness made it fall flat. What I couldn�
�t figure out was who should deliver the song, and to whom! At first it was Hermes’s song, directed at Orpheus. Later it was the Workers’ song, describing their own circumstances. Finally it became the Fates’ song, directed at Eurydice, with the Workers chanting in descant beneath the choruses. At Dartmouth I was exploring an early version of Hermes’s verbal narration. The Hermes part was played by the brilliant Taylor Mac, and this was his advice to Orpheus:

  Hermes: If you wanna get around down here in the tank / Down here in the clink / Down here in the hole / You got to think the way they think / Which is to say, your mind is blank / Which is to say, don’t think at all / Come / I’ll show you how it’s done:

  Mister Hades set us free . . . / To work ourselves into the ground . . .

  Later, he introduced the Workers:

  Hermes: Welcome to the skeleton crew! / Welcome to the chain gang, kid / Lemme introduce you to / The members of the working dead / Old Jack Hammer! Mister Miner / Wandering forever in the catacombs / Working on a hole to China / Diggin’ up them dino bones / Way down . . .

  Sweatshop Sally! Missus Miller! / Workin’ in the cellar where the sun don’t shine / Sad-eyed little Cinderella / Sweeping up the ashes of the summertime / Used to be one a the boss’s pets / Now she’s just another stiff / One night in the boss’s bed / And a lifetime on the graveyard shift / Way down . . .

  Off-Broadway, Edmonton, & London

  For NYTW, I cut many of those verses and gave the remaining ones to the Fates, who made them deliciously vicious. I also inserted a series of recitative exchanges between the Fates and Eurydice. This was something both Rachel and Ken had pushed for: an explicit, beat-by-beat realization on the part of Eurydice that she has made a terrible mistake. Ken described it in cartoon terms like this: “All right! / What? / No! / Oh, shit . . .” My first version of those exchanges leaned toward the abstract:

  Eurydice: I’m free / We’re free / Mr. Hades set us free

  Fates: Mister Hades set you free . . .

  Eurydice: But I don’t understand / You said this was the promised land

  Fates: You sell your soul, you get your due / That is all we promised you

  Eurydice: But don’t you see? / It’s different with me

  Fates: Different than who? / They thought they were different too!

  Eurydice: There must be some mistake!

  Fates: Oh, it was a mistake, alright / And now you got to pay / And pay / And pay for it / For the rest of your life

  The following verse appeared only at NYTW. The song was overstaying its welcome, so I cut it:

  Fates: Heard that mighty trumpet sound / Crossed the river to the other side / Thought you’d lay your burdens down / And rest in peace in paradise / But there ain’t no rest for your weary soul / Hades keeps you toiling / Shoveling coal in a big black hole / To keep his boiler boiling

  Broadway

  With the exception of the verse cut, this song didn’t change in Edmonton or London. During Broadway rehearsals, though, Rachel began flagging it again as a dramaturgical weak point. It was a place she felt we should be tackling head-on a question we’d heard many times over the years: “What is so bad about Hadestown?” In earlier versions of the show, Eurydice had come to the underworld under false pretenses—believing it was the lap of luxury, or that as Hades’s mistress she’d be under his protection. We’d now framed her as a tough, smart character making a clear-eyed choice. She’d come for a job, and she’d gotten that job. She’d willingly sold her body and / or soul in exchange for the security she craved, and now it was hers. For our tough heroine to be appalled by “hard work” was a disservice to her character. Returning to the mythology, I found that what had always frightened me most about the underworld was the idea of “forgetting.” The dead are made to drink of the waters of the River Lethe, which causes them to forget their former lives. This was the river of oblivion in “Way Down Hadestown Reprise.” Numbing and forgetting play a big part in “Flowers.” There was also an early cutting room floor version of “Wait for Me” in which the Fates “brainwashed” Eurydice! The first stanza went:

  Fates: One (one, one) / You forget the sun

  Eurydice: I forget the sun

  Fates: You forget where you come from / You forget the sun

  Eurydice: I forget the sun

  Fates: Two (two, two) . . .

  With that in mind, I took a baby step toward addressing the note, making one change in the Fates’ language. The line that once went: Running his old assembly line from Pluto to the Pleiades became: Your place on the assembly line replaces all your memories. It wasn’t enough for Rachel, who wished the whole scene felt more like “a horror film.” So I went further, adding the series of exchanges that culminates in the Fates’ So, what was your name again? / You’ve already forgotten . . . The rewriting of those interludes was the last thing I finished before we locked the show for Broadway.

  FLOWERS

  Eurydice

  What I wanted was to fall asleep

  Close my eyes and disappear

  Like a petal on a stream

  A feather on the air

  Lily white and poppy red

  I trembled when he laid me out

  You won’t feel a thing, he said

  When you go down

  Nothing gonna wake you now

  Dreams are sweet until they’re not

  Men are kind until they aren’t

  Flowers bloom until they rot

  And fall apart

  Is anybody listening?

  I open my mouth and nothing comes out

  Nothing

  Nothing gonna wake me now

  Flowers, I remember fields

  Of flowers, soft beneath my heels

  Walking in the sun

  I remember someone

  Someone by my side

  Turned his face to mine

  And then I turned away

  Into the shade

  You, the one I left behind

  If you ever walk this way

  Come and find me

  Lying in the bed I made

  Notes on “Flowers”

  “Flowers” didn’t exist in the early Vermont productions, but there was a brief reprise of the long-lost “Everything Written” song that expressed Eurydice’s regret:

  Eurydice: If it’s me—if it’s me you’re looking for / Orpheus, I can’t be with you anymore

  Fates: She signed in blood / She signed for good

  Eurydice: I signed before I understood / And I’d unsign it if I could / But it’s too late / They say that everything is written / Everything written in those stars / Even these lives we’re living / Even this love

  Fates: Seven Sisters . . .

  Eurydice never had a solo feature in Vermont, and I was determined to write one for the studio album. I’d started working, but was exceptionally stuck. At the same time, I’d commissioned my dear friend and brilliant artist Peter Nevins to create linoleum-cut portraits of the main characters as album art. Each character was portrayed with an object—Persephone had a raised cup, Hades held a bird—and usually we’d brainstorm the objects together. We hadn’t spoken at all about Eurydice when Peter showed me his portrait of her, eyes closed, holding a flower. “Why’d you give her a flower?” I asked. “I don’t know,” he said, “it felt right.” It was that image that sparked the lyrics of “Flowers,” and it was that image that ended up on the cover of the studio album, as well as tattooed on my right forearm. It was that image that became a visual touchstone for London and Broadway, both in the storytelling and in the marketing of the show. The flower kept revealing itself, as if by magic, and it was just as Peter said: “It felt right.”

  COME HOME WITH ME REPRISE

  Orpheus


  Come home with me!

  Eurydice

  It’s you!

  Orpheus

  It’s me

  Eurydice

  Orpheus . . .

  Orpheus

  Eurydice

  Eurydice

  I called your name before—

  Orpheus

  I know

  Eurydice

  You heard?

  Orpheus

  No—Mister Hermes told me so

  Whatever happened, I’m to blame

 

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