Posts
What
is the essence of The Lathe of Heaven? This is my third stage adaptation of a
science fiction novel, and I have adapted and translated numerous other works
(I connect the two, in my own work, for all of my translations have been
adaptations of sorts as well). My
first question is always what is the essence, and my second is, how do I convey
that essence theatrically?
I
tend to think that the essence lies in the ideas that behind the content—not
surprising, as I run a Theater of Ideas.
Obviously, Taoism is a major influence on Lathe, the title is based on a (somewhat mistranslated) Chuang Tzu
quote, and in the novel Le Guin punctuated the chapters with other quotes from
Taoist sources. Buy beyond mere
quotation, the ideas of balance, of nature, of inaction versus action, of the
value of uncertainty—these are all Taoist ideas.
So
I knew I wanted to drop those ideas in, with a minimum of exposition and a
maximum of emotional content.
Music seemed the obvious medium.
The poetic, elliptical nature of Lao Tzu’s writing seemed very much to
lend itself to the style of art music that our composer, Henry Akona, often
enjoys writing. So I used Le Guin’s
translation of Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching
as a major inspiration for the lyrics. And stillness while in motion—what
better way to convey that than a static set, put in motion by video images?
Music
and video also answered a practical matter, the complex question of how to
portray a dream onstage. I wanted
a set that was a canvas, on which dreams could be painted by video, and music that
evoked dream logic and implied a connection to something beyond itself.
I
was particularly drawn by the idea of uncertainty, especially in a work like Lathe that references one of my favorite
topics, neurology. I have been
reading a lot about our irrational, neurological imperative towards certainty
(I particularly recommend Robert Burton’s On
Being Certain). As Haber says
in the play, “The brain craves certainty,” and indeed we are drawn to those who
seem to possess it. How long would
a political candidates last if, when asked for a cure for the economy, they
simply shrugged their shoulders and said: “I don’t know. I don’t fully understand money, and I
certainly don’t know for sure what to do about a recession. I don’t think anyone does, and only
fools pretend to.”
And
yet, what true, justifiable certainty do we possess on any topic? Is the answer then to struggle for
understanding, or simply to realize that some of the most important questions
we have don’t have any knowable answers?
The
belief in our own ability to understand and solve these unsolvable questions has
led humanity down many paths, one of the more extreme being failed
utopianism. It is those with the
greatest convictions who often can do the most harm.
That,
at least, was my initial connection into this work, and when I found that, all
else flowed. The word “flowed “of course evokes water, one of the symbols used
often in Lathe and in Taoism. And
indeed, when I am connected to a work, it can sometimes feel like a I rafting
through a river of words, not exacting guiding the raft but learning how the
river moves and how best to look elegant while keeping my balance.
I
hope I will manage to look elegant.
Though I would be thankful if, at least, I can keep my balance.
