people always talk about the doomed love timeloop when they talk about hadestown. look i love that shit as much as the next homosexual but can we please talk about the revolutionary politics. genuinely one of the best anticapitalist pieces of art of the 21st century. can we watch act 2 with our brains please
i have more thoughts on this. sorry.
in anaïs mitchell's own words, hadestown was conceived in the wake of the economic and climate devastation brought on by hurricane katrina. i don't think i need to belabour the concept of hades building a wall to keep the enemy out—explicitly and repeatedly named as poverty. nor do i feel the need to dumb down the environmental message. by hoarding capital for the sake of it, hades destroys the environment for the working class who he requires as fodder for (in the words of william blake) his "dark, satantic mills."
this message isn't particularly subtle, and it shouldn't be.
the vision orpheus presents with his song is not only one of ecological restoration with the seasons, but also community and egalitarian collectivization "if no one takes too much, there will always be enough."
in finishing his song, orpheus succeeds where eurydice cannot: not only setting the seasons right, but returning humanity to the anonymized workers by unionizing them.
i think that, as is the case with a lot of theatre, it's easy to anonymize the chorus. they're extra voices to round out a song or bodies used for the dance break. in hadestown, this anonymity is purposeful. whether above ground or below it, the chorus have been so thoroughly ground under hades' boot that they do not even have the luxury of individuality. their identity is reduced simply to workers.
the workers keep their heads and voices down because it is the only way they can survive, wretched as this existence is. they are not allowed to hold onto their old identities because voices that are too loud can be raised in protest and music. see field hollers, work songs, sea shanties—or chanties; it's no coincidence that two of the songs most explicitly about the toll this backbreaking labour takes on the body are called chants.
moreover, the work that they do—building a wall that will never be finished, extracting resources—isn't merely productive in the sense that it's furthering hades' capital. this form of labour is specifically punitive in a way that is meant to break their spirits. the workers "dig [their] own graves for a living." penal labour is destructive rather than productive. workers are given monotonous and repetitive tasks meant to punish them for a perceived wrongdoing. tasks like moving stones from one pile to another, turning crank machines, or walking on treadmills. the repetitive nature of these tasks was meant to break both body and spirit with no focus on rehabilitation because you are never getting out of prison. we see examples of this hard labour in victorian england, in chattel slavery, and around the world today.
it's easy to get swept up in the romance and forget that orpheus is responsible not only for bringing eurydice out of hell, but the workers as well. when threatened with a strike, hades (encouraged by the fates) breaks up the union. orpheus is separated from eurydice, yes, but also from his fellow workers. his impossible task is meant to break up his community, because community is harder to quell than individual rebels.
to quote mitchell again "it's a love story, but politics really is romantic." it's a sad song that we sing over and over again, not just in hopes that orpheus and eurydice will make it out of the underworld, but that we all will.
