The Penelopiad...

Thanks to commodorified and auriaephiala, I went to see The Penelopeiad at the National Arts Centre last night. Subtitled: From Hades, Penelope and her Maids tell the story of their lives, though actually the Maids didn't tell their own story at all.

I enjoyed it very much - even though I don't like Margaret Atwood's writing and didn't like Penelope, who is very much the main character - most of the play is her monologue.

Some of the staging, or most of the staging, was brilliant. Minimalist and clever. My favourite bits were done with lighting - water rippling across the stage, or a spider-web growing around Penelope as she sits on the stage. Penelope wears a plain red dress, very striking; most of the other characters wear earth tones, except her mother, the Niaid, who wears blue, and Helen of Troy, who wears gold. There was a wonderful scene where Penelope is drowning, and survives, saved by a flock of ducks - beautifully staged. And best of all, the deaths of the handmaidens by hanging - very dramatic, and beautifully acted. I was reminded of Frank Miller's art.

Other bits of staging flopped in absurdity. King Laertes walking around with a stuffed goat? A sailor's song and dance routine that looked as if it came out of South Pacific?

All the parts were played by women, which made me think of the Tarakazuka shows I was reading about. But since this was sort of modernistic Greek tragedy, not musical comedy - though it was musical, and sometimes farcical - I was left not really sure what to make of it. I think the use of women in men's roles was meant to emphasize the gender differences by bringing attention to it, and as such, it worked well. Sarah Malin as Odysseus was particularly good, once you got over the effect of seeing such a girlish Odysseus.

I did think that the actress who played Penelope, Penny Downie, should play Cordelia Naismith Vorkosigan. Long red hair, a sense of presence - but not regality. Pictures I found of her online didn't reflect this.... Though this one comes close. She was most attractive.

Why didn't I like Penelope? Partly because she was passive. Passivity bothers me, especially in protagonists. Most of the play is the story of her misfortunes, and her purpose in life seemed to be primarily to bewail her love of her husband Odysseus, who just didn't come home... and didn't come home... and didn't come home.... I felt as if I was watching a country-western song. I wanted to say: woman, leave him to his chosen destiny, and make your own life with good grace. Don't begrudge him his.

Moreover, Penelope didn't seem to like or love anyone she knew. Her parents, her cousin, Odysseus' parents, the people of Ithica - she only loved her twelve slave-maidens and her son Telemachus, and even then, the play emphasizes her guilt for the slave-maidens and her estrangement from her son. I found this... less than endearing. Even with her love for Odysseus, it was implied that she was beguiled by his charm and his storytelling, but that she doubted he was worthy of her love.

Now, her distaste for those around her seems to be simply because they were uncaring and unworthy of affection. But when everyone she meets reflects this, it made me feel that the problem was not with them, it was with Penelope, that she was cold.

Odysseus triumphed over adversity and carried on as a hero. Penelope faced adversity and triumphed - over and over - and saw it as failure. Was it that Atwood thought it was failure? Or that Homer did? No, I don't think Homer did, but I'm no expert on the Odyssey, which I've only read in bits and pieces. Must do something about that.

I think there are different ways of presenting the Odyssey with a modern feminist slant, and I'd rather do it by showing how Penelope was a clever woman who succeeded in her clever strategems, rather than showing her complaints about her life.

After the show, we went and had coffee at the NAC. I love that place. commorified looked glamorous in a black dress, and the restaurant - outfitted in chrome, white, and touches of blue glass and blue light - is always a pleasure to be in. It overlooks the canal, except that at 10 p.m., you don't really see the canal very clearly.

I was going to bravely forego dessert, but they had creme brulee on the menu - what's a person to do? ...It was utterly wonderful. A perfect post-birthday outing.

My horoscope...

My Yahoo! horoscope today - which I read by accident - said:

If you suddenly have an urge to take your coffee or tea in a different way this morning, go for it! Try a new blend, skip the sugar, add more milk -- whatever your mood dictates.... A routine can come dangerously close to creating too much monotony in your life. Mix things up today.

To which I can only think to say: I beg your pardon? Someone thinks that putting more milk in my tea is going to shake up the routines of my life? Who on earth has a life that boring?

Patterns...

Speaking of routines: I have been the secretary of the Ottawa Science Fiction Society for a while now, and I've noticed a pattern in the way I write the minutes.

1. I go to the monthly executive meeting. Take careful and copious notes in an illegible scribble. Go home resolving to type them up immediately.

2. Get home. Decide I'm too tried. Put my steno pad in my purse for dealing with immediately the next morning.

3. Morning comes. I decide I don't need to to it right away. Tonight will be okay.

4. Too busy to do it tonight, so I postpone till tomorrow. Repeat. Then repeat again.

5. A week later, I've forgotten I haven't written up the minutes. I've forgotten there was even a meeting.

6. A few days before the next meeting, someone reminds me that there is a meeting coming up, and I realize I haven't written up the minutes of the last meeting yet. Time to do it before anyone knows how long I procrastinated. But then I can't find my steno pad. It was right there in my purse... wasn't it?

7. Search for my steno pad in increasing panic. Fail to find it.

8. Resolve to confess all to the other members of the OSFS executive, hoping I will be forgiven, despite my shame and ignominy.

9. I find my steno pad. Hastily write the minutes. Proofread and e-mail them to the other members of the executive as if I always meant to send them on the day of the meeting. Really. After all, if I send them early, they'll only forget them, right?

10. Arrive at the meeting with steno pad in hand, trying to appear blithely competent.