Do You Hear the People Sing?, by Ben Jeapes
Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay
Some years ago – and golly, I mean about 35 years ago; where did the time go? – I went with a group of friends to see Les Miserables in London. A cracking show then and a cracking show now. Act 1 ends with one of the show’s barnstormers, ‘One Day More’, as multiple storylines come together, rebellion pours out onto the streets of Paris in 1832 and a huge red flag waves over the heads of the cast.
At the bar during the interval, one of my friends looked around and commented, “You know, if that actually happened now, today, everyone here would be choking on their G&Ts.”
One thing Les Mis does very well for a family-friendly musical is capture the simmering anger and discontent that underpins the whole story. Emotions we would rather not recognise, and if we have to see them then, well, we can say it’s just a story on stage. The musical opens as Jean Valjean is paroled after nineteen years for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his starving sister and her child – five years for breaking and entering, the rest for trying to escape. Fast forward a few years and rebellion brews as the people become more and more fed up with the corrupt, inept rulers of France. Rebellions don’t happen out of boredom or perversity. They happen because people are angry. And desperate.
Unfortunately – like this one – they often don’t end happily either.
There was anger around 35 years ago, too, and I would say there’s even more now.
We’re coming up to Palm Sunday, marking the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. We all know the story. What emotions do we attach to it as we sing on Sunday? The majestic ‘All Glory, Laud and Honour’ or ‘Ride On, Ride On In Majesty’? Graham Kendrick’s uplifting ‘Make Way’? The cheerful ‘Hosanna, hey-sanna’ of Jesus Christ Superstar? (One of the few songs in the musical to approximate to theological accuracy.)
How about anger?
The crowds didn’t turn out because they were happy prophecies were being fulfilled. I picture the crowd as only one small step away from a mob. The seething anger of a proud people reduced to vassal status, barely bottled but kept a lid on because just maybe this was finally It. Hosanna … Or else.
I recently read a book which has had all kinds of acclaim but in my opinion was crippled by the author’s love for her characters. They were all so nice and reasonable and she couldn’t bear to have them fall out. Quite relaxing in some ways (I won’t deny there’s a lot of gratuitous negativity out there); but in other ways, no way to tell a story.
Give your characters something to be angry about, make them angry, and let them show it.
And then, like Jesus, completely overturn your readers’ expectations about how it’s going to work out!
Ben Jeapes (www.benjeapes.com) took up writing in the mistaken belief that it would be easier than a real job (it isn’t). Hence, as well as being the author of eight novels and co-author of many more, he has also been a journal editor, book publisher, and technical writer. His most recent title is Ghostwriting Novels: A Guide for Ghostwriters and the Ghostwritten.
At the bar during the interval, one of my friends looked around and commented, “You know, if that actually happened now, today, everyone here would be choking on their G&Ts.”
One thing Les Mis does very well for a family-friendly musical is capture the simmering anger and discontent that underpins the whole story. Emotions we would rather not recognise, and if we have to see them then, well, we can say it’s just a story on stage. The musical opens as Jean Valjean is paroled after nineteen years for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his starving sister and her child – five years for breaking and entering, the rest for trying to escape. Fast forward a few years and rebellion brews as the people become more and more fed up with the corrupt, inept rulers of France. Rebellions don’t happen out of boredom or perversity. They happen because people are angry. And desperate.
Unfortunately – like this one – they often don’t end happily either.
There was anger around 35 years ago, too, and I would say there’s even more now.
We’re coming up to Palm Sunday, marking the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. We all know the story. What emotions do we attach to it as we sing on Sunday? The majestic ‘All Glory, Laud and Honour’ or ‘Ride On, Ride On In Majesty’? Graham Kendrick’s uplifting ‘Make Way’? The cheerful ‘Hosanna, hey-sanna’ of Jesus Christ Superstar? (One of the few songs in the musical to approximate to theological accuracy.)
How about anger?
The crowds didn’t turn out because they were happy prophecies were being fulfilled. I picture the crowd as only one small step away from a mob. The seething anger of a proud people reduced to vassal status, barely bottled but kept a lid on because just maybe this was finally It. Hosanna … Or else.
I recently read a book which has had all kinds of acclaim but in my opinion was crippled by the author’s love for her characters. They were all so nice and reasonable and she couldn’t bear to have them fall out. Quite relaxing in some ways (I won’t deny there’s a lot of gratuitous negativity out there); but in other ways, no way to tell a story.
Give your characters something to be angry about, make them angry, and let them show it.
And then, like Jesus, completely overturn your readers’ expectations about how it’s going to work out!
My church just did a Lent course based on Les Misérables! What a great story, so powerful. I agree: everyone being nice to each other in a story is cloying. And there's so much about crowd psychology to be drawn from Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem.
ReplyDeleteLovely post, Ben. I have never considered the pros and cons of rebellion until this post! There's hope for countries in Africa. With our Lord Jesus, the rebellion led to his crucifixion and finally to His resurrection and life eternal for us all. Blessings.
ReplyDeleteI’ll have a go. Take your point!
ReplyDeleteGood timing for me. Thanks. Am on the verge of writing a hot boiling speech from one of the daughters of the Irish discontent & rebellion in late 1700s…a little beyond my normal horizons.
ReplyDelete