Because the theaters are dark on Monday nights.
"Inspired by Bruno Bettelheim's 1976 book,
The Uses of Enchantment," Stephen Sondheim's musical
Into the Woods...
...intertwines the plots of several Brothers Grimm fairy tales and follows them further to explore the consequences of the characters' wishes and quests. The main characters are taken from the stories of Little Red Riding Hood, Jack and the Beanstalk, Rapunzel, and Cinderella ...
Each of these characters must for one reason or another venture "into the woods"; along the way they learn
many valuable things (though at the cost of innocence), and by the end of the show, sadder but definitely wiser, they abandon any cliché-ridden notion of fairy-tale happy endings for a world in which pain and joy are both necessary aspects of real life.
"On the Steps of the Palace," in which Cinderella begins to grow up, is here set (rather nicely) to video from the Disney movie:
He's a very smart prince,
He's a prince who prepares.
Knowing this time I'd run from him,
He spread pitch on the stairs.
I was caught unawares.
And I thought: well, he cares —
This is more than just malice.
Better stop and take stock
While you're standing here stuck
On the steps of the palace.
You think, what do you want?
You think, make a decision.
Why not stay and be caught?
You think, well, it's a thought,
What would be his response?
But then what if he knew
Who you were when you know
That you're not what he thinks
That he wants?
And then what if you are
What a prince would envision?
Although how can you know
Who you are till you know
What you want, which you don't?
So then which do you pick:
Where you're safe, out of sight,
And yourself, but where everything's wrong?
Or where everything's right
And you know that you'll never belong?
And whichever you pick,
Do it quick,
'Cause you're starting to stick
To the steps of the palace.
It's your first big decision,
The choice isn't easy to make.
To arrive at a ball
Is exciting and all —
Once you're there, though, it's scary.
And it's fun to deceive
When you know you can leave,
But you have to be wary.
There's a lot that's at stake,
But you've stalled long enough,
'Cause you're still standing stuck
In the stuff on the steps...
Better run along home
And avoid the collision.
Even though they don't care,
You'll be better of there
Where there's nothing to choose,
So there's nothing to lose.
So you pry up your shoes.
Then from out of the blue,
And without any guide,
You know what your decision is,
Which is not to decide.
You'll just leave him a clue:
For example, a shoe.
And then see what he'll do.
Now it's he and not you
Who is stuck with a shoe,
In a stew, in the goo,
And you've learned something, too,
Something you never knew,
On the steps of the palace.
I can sure relate to Cinderella here (and to Mr. Sondheim, for whom
ambivalence is a constant theme). Decisions so often flummox me if I let them. Maybe that's why I like the idea that perhaps, sometimes, deciding "not to decide" is an option worth considering. Don't get me wrong: leaving it "to the universe" to sort out
can be a cop-out, an excuse not to act; but it might also be a very good choice — especially when it leads you to
Learn something new
When you're stuck in the goo.
Welcome to Monday Night at the Theater.