Fragment of an Abandoned Musical

Author's note: In late 1974, whilst watching the Beeb series Doctor Who under the influence of an herbal cigarette of questionable legality, I had a sudden flash of inspiration brought on by the operatic quality of the story I was watching (enhanced greatly by my youthful lust for Sarah Jane Smith) and conceived of a musical play of sweeping moral and political scope. Sometime the next morning, I managed to recall some small sections of the libretto that I had fleshed out for the epic, much in the manner of Sam Coleridge managing to capture a bit of his dope-soaked reveries as the "visionary fragment" of Kubla Khan.

My story, loosely based on the life story of Jiang Qing (or, as we knew her then, Chiang Ch'ing) was written up as a story treatment, with some extended set pieces meant to serve as samples of a libretto. One of these sections is included below.

On a whim, I sent the manuscript and proposal off to a young composer of some note, who a few weeks later responded quite favorably to the idea. Andrew Lloyd-Webber, or "Andy" as I came to know him, and I met several times to discuss the project over a pint in a now-defunct public house named The Weedy Garden. Andy went so far as to set one section to music before our relationship soured over a disagreement concerning the correct temperature at which to serve sake (a common point of contention during that era).

Andy, of course, teamed up with his erstwhile lyricist Tim Rice to recast my idea from China and Jiang Qing to Argentina and the life of Eva Perón, and produce the musical the world knows as Evita. I went on to a more modest success as a poet, whose work has been published at Literotica and other fine sites in Cyberspace.

In any case, the following fragment is offered for historical interest to connoisseurs of popular musical culture. Students of modern Chinese history may note some anachronisms in the text, which was extensively revised for a staged reading at the West End Poeticising Society in January of 1998. To hear Andy's tune in its re-lyricised context, check out Madonna singing Don't Cry for Me, Argentina on You Tube.
—AS

[MADAME HU appears on the balcony above Tiananmen Square and raises her arms to the adoring crowd. After basking in their cowed silence, she commences self-criticism.]

It won't be easy, you'll think it strange
When I try to explain what is real,
How I still need your help after all I have done.

No, I mean really.
All you will see is a poet, one who
(Although one with business degree)
Seems clueless with her poesy.

I had to decide, I had to make
Some decision about work or fame,
Sitting at table, writing odd villanelles.

So I chose money.
Damn, I'm sorry, but what should I have done?
I mean I, like, needed a job.
And, well, I mean Poet's not one.

Don't cry for me, O sestina!
The truth is, I never wrote you.
Because restrictions,
Of all those form things
Made me just crazy
Unlike Deng Xiaoping.

So. Sometimes theory and sometimes shame
With verse things I screwed up again
When I should have been thinking of our workers' rights.

Capitalism
Within limits, as I mean, is not the only
Thing. Laissez-faire isn't a crime,
Because we're one people, Chinese.

Opening up Chinese markets!

[Musical interlude, reprising main theme.]

Opening up Chinese markets!
Quite crazy, we thought at one time,
Because the Party
Thought economics
Was still quite Marxist.
(They didn't know chicks.)

Have I said too much?
There's nothing more Adam Smith would say to you.
But all you have to do is look at stocks to know
You want to say "Me too."

[Reprise main theme, and fade.]

Don't cry for me, O sestina!
The truth is, I never wrote you.
Because restrictions,
Of all those form things
Made me just crazy,
Unlike Deng Xiaoping.

[MADAME HU, drained of emotion, drops her arms and turns away from the crowd. Curtain.]