Angel Street Review

             Belhaven University’s production of Patrick Hamilton’s Angel Street, or Gas Light as it’s known outside of the United States, was an excellent and thought provoking one. Directed by Ginny Holladay, the story deals with questions of mental health, spousal abuse, and the inter-class relations and gender roles of the 1800s.

             The play opens on the two lead characters, Bella and Jack Manningham, played by Elizabeth Borst and Craig Fairbanks. Bella is very submissive and on edge, while Jack is very calm and controlling. He openly flirts with one of the maids, Nancy, played by Allison Horton, and seems to care little for his wife’s emotions.

He blames Bella for the disappearance of a picture frame from the wall, even though she denies knowing anything about it. A history of mental illness in Bella’s family is alludded to. Jack calls in the maids, Elizabeth, played by Ashley Hester, and Nancy, to question them. Neither know anything about it, and Jack returns to accusing his wife. When Bella finds the picture in the hall, Jack uses that as evidence that she hid it. He is angry and storms out of the house to “work.”

            When a mysterious gentleman, who calls himself Sergeant Rough, played by John Alford, comes to call, he challenges Bella’s belief in her insanity. He reveals himself to be a detective investigating the murder of a woman that occurred fifteen years ago, and that he believes Jack Manningham to be the murderer, come back to the site of the murder to find the jewels he wasn’t able to get a hold of the first time around. The find the jewels, among other items that Bella supposedly misplaced, in a locked drawer in Jack’s desk.

            Jack returns home to find that his desk has been broken into. He reacts violently, shoving Bella and beginning to choke her. Rough bursts into the room with two police officers in tow, and they arrest Jack. Asking them for a moment, Bella confronts Jack, who pleads with her to release him. She plays mind games with him, teasing him with the idea of freedom, but plays the mental patient, and refuses. Rough reenters the room, and drags Jack away, while Elizabeth comforts her mistress.

            The play says several things about the nature of Victorian high society, namely in the realms of the roles of men versus women and social classes and how they interact. Women are shown as inferior to men, even when they assume positions of power. That power is only theirs because the men give it to them. Jack is very domineering, while Bella is very submissive. Even when Bella has the power over Jack, it is only because Rough had him tied up for her. Not even the strongest female character, Nancy, is immune to the dominance of Jack. When she thinks she’s seducing him, the reality is that she is being manipulated to his purposes.

            The class conflict between the upper class and that of the servant class is prevalent throughout the story. Nancy is constantly showing her disdain for Bella, considering herself better than her social superior, and is given a substantial amount of liberty, even going as far as to bring one of her “suitors” into the house with her. Elizabeth, on the other hand, is very set in her position, doing as she is told and keeping her head down, even when Jack makes advances towards her.

            The way the Victorians viewed mental health is shown with stark clarity in this show, though its inclusion is more subtle. The discussions of Bella being taken away, or put in the hospital because she is “sick” have a sense of finality. There’s almost the impression that they are speaking about putting down a rabid dog. The implication is that mental illness was untreatable, or that treatment rarely worked or ended poorly for the patient. This raises the stakes of the show, as the threat of Bella being sent away are constantly hanging in the air.

            The show tells the story of a woman coming to terms with herself, and resisting the image of her that others have placed on her. In accepting the truth of her husband’s identity as a murderer and a thief, and standing up to him and defying his abuse, she matures, no longer being the scared little girl that she is at the beginning of the show. Her decisive action marks a new course for her life. While the play is bleak, the ending has hope that Bella’s life will get better.

Henry V stage

I've been assistant stage managing(ASM) for Belhaven's production of Shakespeare's Henry V for the last couple of months. It's been difficult, but the end product going to be bloody fantastic. Here's a post from our technical director about the painting of the stage. If you're in Jackson, MS this week or next(Or you can get to Jackson, MS this week or next), you should come see it.

Henry V Painting work

Hope is out there.

For at least half my life, I've struggled with depression. While it wasn't until the last year that I've realized what it was, but looking back, it's fairly apparent. It's a hard thing to live with, and it can be difficult to open up about. I've been fortunate recently to have friends willing to bear with me through this.

Another struggle that I've observed first hand is that of self-harm. It's not something I've had to struggle with myself, thankfully, but I've had close friends that have. It's hard to watch, but I've noticed that it can be much worse if they have no one to go to. Unfortunately, it's often difficult for them to find someone to talk to. I've seen relationships damaged because the wrong person was told. My university in particular has been known to be harsh on those who are "found out." Suspension was threatened if it didn't stop in one case, and the counselors on staff are better suited for grief and family counseling than self-harm, and they're understaffed for a campus of this size.

At this point, I'm going to do a bit of name-dropping; you've probably heard of To Write Love On Her Arms. They're an organization dedicated to raising awareness for depression, anxiety, and addiction, and making sure that people have access to the help that they need. They also focus on changing the stigma that tends to surround these issues. These stigmas can make finding help difficult.

This is what TWLOHA means to me. It's a movement to change unhealthy environments, and helping people who are hurting. Cliche as it sounds, they're a beacon of hope. They're a group of people who genuinely care about people that are hurting, and that is a rare and valuable thing in today's world. I, for one, wholeheartedly support this organization and their mission. Their efforts mean a lot to me, personally, and I hope that you would take some time to find out more about what they do, and what they stand for.

To Write Love on Her Arms: Behind The Scenes

This is blog post really spoke to me, especially considering the things that I've been going through lately. Enjoy:

To Write Love on Her Arms: Behind The Scenes:

'via Blog this'

Almost Getting Better

You ever wonder if you're a burden? Like you need the people that you care about more than they actually need you? That you're not giving enough into your relationships? It's a hard place to be. How do you resolve it? Will they tell you the truth if you ask? Will they be offended or relieved if you start pulling away or finding other friendships that you might be able to contribute more to? And is that even possible?

It's not something you can easily quantify. The thing I'm starting to realize is that people come to relationships for different reasons, so they may be expecting different things. Whether this makes maintaining relationships easier or harder is a matter of opinion and probably varies from relationship to relationship.

The important thing, I guess, is to try not to be selfish. Trying to make sure that you're not dead weight, and that you're making an effort to invest in their lives.

I know the last few posts have been pretty disjointed, but for now I'm just using this to work through some things. The less I keep in my head, the less stress I have to worry about. Hopefully, this will keep the depressed spirals at bay, and reduce the amount of tension going on in my life. I've had enough interpersonal tension lately, and I'd like a little time to recover.

Life from the Current Perspective

One of the most frustrating things, I think, is to see someone struggling, and to know that they need help, but they refuse it. To know, by experience, the fake smiles, the false enjoyment. That moment when you realize that someone who used to confide in you has given up talking to people. Whether it's just an attempt to deny the issue, or they feel, despite many assurances to the negative, that they're a burden. They try too hard not to hurt anyone, or make anyone worry, that they end up doing exactly that.

On a similar note, I wonder why there're people who don't believe in long-term friendships. Or maybe people worry too much about whether this friend or that friend are short-term or long-term friends, that they really miss the point of the relationship in the first place.

I'll admit, I'm notorious for the automatic withdrawal if I'm worried about getting hurt. The trick is realizing when you're doing that. Sometimes, it's not a lost cause, but to give up and withdraw guarantees that the connection is ended. Or at least irreparably damaged.

It's always worth wondering how your actions and decisions are impacting those you care about. And watch what you say: the ones who care about you most don't accept people bad-mouthing you, and they don't care if you're the one doing it. It WILL upset them, and most of the time it's MORE painful if the words are from your mouth.

The late teens-early twenties are some of the hardest years so far. Everything changes on a year-to-year basis, if not more. Change is good, but too much change leaves you lost with no direction. Finding which things to hold on to, and which to let go isn't easy, but it's necessary. Humanity craves stability, but it also requires change. Balance is the only way to be happy. Or as close as we can get to it.

So keep your head up, and hold on to what matters most. Grades, accomplishments, awards, mistakes; they all fade. Time can't be recovered, and you only have so long to make the connections that matter. Fear can't make your decisions for you. Trust me, I know.

"Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee. And I don't mean to." -Samwise Gamgee, Fellowship of the Ring

Struggling Through the Trenches

Depression is hard. Like, seriously. Don't knock it(or more specifically, those dealing with it) unless you've been through it. And if you still knock it(again, them) then you didn't really go through with it. It's really not as easy as you'd think, to just be happy sometimes. How hard it is to resist something when you don't see it coming until it's there and in full swing. It's tempting to blame it on negativity, or not enough Jesus, but the truth of the matter is that it's not that simple. It's not about how much "Jesus" you have, because I was extremely gung-ho Christian when I first started struggling with it. It took me almost eleven years to realize it for what it was.

The sad thing is that, in my experience, depression isn't just sadness. For me, it also comes with a lot of anger. You're lashing out at the slightest thing like a wounded animal because you have no reason to feel the way you do, and you feel helpless. It's the kind of thing that damages friendships, because they can't understand why you lash out the way you do. And that makes it hard to be on the other side of it, too.

It's a sick, twisted spiral. You lash out without meaning to, they take it personal and start to withdraw, which makes the depression worse, which causes more lashing out. The farther down you go, the tighter the spiral and the faster down it goes, plunging into the abyss at breakneck speed. And from there, suicide isn't so unreasonable. Thank God I'm not there yet.

I want this to stop. I want to stop hurting people. I want to stop being hurt. I want to be able to connect to people when I'm with them, instead of having situations where the signal strength doesn't go beyond my own skin. I just want to get to the end of this horrid mess.

"[I will close my ears and my heart and I will be a stone]Dear God, make me a stone." -River Tam, Serenity. Brackets contain the approximate translation of a Mandarin phrase.