I will mourn the Wicked...

It’s a fairly well known fact among my friends and acquaintances that I like musicals. That’s an understatement, really. I’m mildly obsessed. As best as I can recall, I have seen 48 different live musicals, and several of those I have seen up to four times. (Yes, 48. And yes, I have a list. Perhaps I’ll post it as a prelude to this entry.)

Since I have seen, oh, say, 9 times as many musicals as the average American, people often ask me which is my favorite. Mostly, I answer that a dozen different shows have different aspects that are my favorite. The music and story of Jeckyll and Hyde pull at my emotions like no other show. The score of Phantom of the Opera fills an auditorium and surrounds me like no other. The Lion King, without question, is the most amazing visual spectacle I have ever seen. RENT has the best subculture surrounding it, with the front row rush tickets always available for under $25. And no show has ever surprised me as much or made me laugh as hard as The 25^th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.

But after a lot of thought, I realized that I do have an overall favorite. Despite my affection for a wide range of shows, no other holds a place in my heart like Wicked.

What is it about Wicked that makes me love it so? To begin with, the way the story ties into the Wizard of Oz still amazes me. The show not only tells you the witch’s story, it tells you the back story of the Tin Man, the Scarecrow, the Cowardly Lion, and even the Wizard himself. What’s more, the dialogue and lyrics are packed with foreshadowing. Elphaba predicts that she will be “so happy she will melt.” The Scarecrow, before he becomes the Scarecrow, calls himself “brainless.” And several characters forsee a celebration in Oz all about Elphaba – although none of them realize at first that it will be a celebration of her death. The thousand tiny hints that are hidden in Wicked make the soundtrack worth listening to time and time again.

But the really great thing about Wicked is that there is so much more to the show than just the Ozian story. There are many layers to the show, and lots of themes that run through it. There’s the familiar struggle between good and evil, and the unsettling idea that perhaps the line between good and evil is not so clear. There are numerous classic struggles with requited and unrequited love. There’s commentary on government, propaganda, animal rights, and mob mentality. And there’s an examination of the concept of truth: does an ultimate truth exist, or is the truth, as the Wizard suggests, just “what we all agree on”?

Yes, Wicked has a lot going on, and its complexity definitely gives it a high ranking on my list. But I think the thing that makes me really love it is what’s left when you strip all of that away. Because at its core, Wicked is not about Oz, or love, or good and evil. Ultimately, Wicked is a show about saying goodbye.

There are two parts of the show that make me believe this. One is right before intermission, when Elphaba makes the choice to fight against the system, even though she knows she will be on her own. Glinda begs her to change her mind, and reminds her that if she would just apologize and keep quiet, she could have “all she ever wanted.” Elphaba’s reply is, “I know. But I don’t want it. No, I can’t want it any more.” In that moment, she lets go of a dream she held for years, to everything she believed to be true all her life. She says goodbye to the person she was and the life she had hoped to have one day. And she moves off into the unknown.

The other crucial moment is the show is during the closing song. Glinda and Elphaba have spent years seemingly fighting on different sides, but struggling to remain friends at the same time. Finally, they reach a point when they know they will not see each other again. Not because they are forced to be apart, really, but because other choices they made have overpowered their friendship. Despite the fact that both know the other is the best friend she’s ever had, all they can do is look at each other and say, “because I knew you, I have been changed for good.” With that, they say goodbye. And even though I have seen the show five times, I still cry every time.

Wicked speaks to me because facing the reality of these kinds of goodbyes has been one of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn in my life. I’ve said both kinds of goodbyes in recent years – to dreams and beliefs I held dear for years, and friendships I thought would be for life.

During my second year of college, I got involved in a lot more activities and eventually found myself with a close-knit circle of friends. Among them was someone I even dared to call my best friend. (And from my previous post, you can see how well that label worked out for me in the past.) And also, as you might have guessed, among them was also someone with whom I eventually fell head over heels in love. And I was happy. I really was. Blissfully, if naively, happy.

But it didn’t last. The best friend and I had a fight that left us hardly speaking to each other, and despite my patience and effort, the guy simply did not love me back. This was the state of things when I left for my study abroad semester in Sweden.

My first months abroad were tumultuous and confusing, but after about three months, I took a trip to Russia. The trip included an 8+ hour bus ride across Finland. As Finland (at least the part I saw) is basically a giant expanse of frozen tundra, I had a lot of time to think during that bus ride. And I thought about my dysfunctional relationships for hours, asking myself where I had gone wrong and what I could do to fix them.

I remember very clearly the moment when I came to a realization that I had always believed that everything could be fixed if I tried hard enough. I could have whatever I wanted if I could just figure out the puzzle.

And after that first realization came a second – I was wrong. There were things I couldn’t fix. No matter how hard I tried, there were some things I could not make into a happy ending.

It doesn’t sound like much, but those two realizations struck me to my core. Without really knowing it, I had envisioned a whole future ahead of me with this best friend and this boyfriend, and I had really believed that there was a way to make it happen. Suddenly, I knew it never would.

I wish I could say that acceptance of that truth came right away, but it was another few years before I reached the point that Elphaba does. I struggled to come to terms with the fact that there was no way to know if I would end up married or single, scraping to make ends meet or living in luxury, fulfilled in my work or just doing something to pay the bills, with the close friend I could on or mostly on my own. But eventually, I did. I congratulated the boy when I found out he was buying a ring for someone else, and said goodbye to the belief that my loving him would ever be enough for him to love me. I hugged the friend goodbye when I left her wedding, knowing there were barriers our friendship simply would never pass. And like Elphaba, I stepped away from the future I had always imagined, away from beliefs I had held for so long, and into the uncomfortable unknown.

Whenever I watch Elphaba say goodbye, I remember those moments. Are they happy memories? Not really. But I find that it’s important for me to be reminded that not everything is fixable, and so not everything is my responsibility to fix. And reliving the realization of those sobering truths also prompts me to think about my life now, and remember that even though I said goodbye to certainty and hello to uncertainty, I am still happy with where I have been and where I seem to be headed.

So yes, I do have a favorite musical, and it’s Wicked. And yes, it’s a show based completely on fantasy. But that’s not why I love it so. I love the reality underneath the fantasy. I love the way it tells a truth it took me 23 years to learn.

It’s two weeks until the show closes in Chicago. I must say I’m sad to see it go.