The Happy Prince

In a few days Opera Siam will be mounting the Thai, perhaps Asian, premiere, of an opera by the Australian composer Malcolm Williamson.  The libretto is, pretty much verbatim, the well known fairy tale by Oscar Wilde.  Although the story was ostensibly written for children, and Williamson’s opera was originally composed to be performed by children, the lessons of this story are subtle and apply to adults as well — or even more so.  Plus, I think there is a Buddhist lesson to be learned as well.

The mythos surrounding the life of Siddhartha Gautama is in fact remarkably similar to the story of The Happy Prince.  The nameless prince in the Wilde fable has spent his entire youth behind the walls of the “palace of Sans Souci” — completely shielded from the sight of pain and suffering.  It is only after his early death, his soul having been transferred to a golden statue that overlooks the city, that he finally sees the misery of his people.  But as a statue, he cannot move.  We don’t know if he’s been sitting up there for centuries, but we know that finally manages to communicate his compassion to a passing swallow.  The swallow learns about compassion … becomes the prince’s messenger to help the poor and untrodden … and eventually gives up his life.  And the prince’s heart breaks.  (But it does not burn when they try to melt him down, because God sees who he really is.)

This is very much the traditional way we tell the story of the Buddha.  Shielded from the sight of suffering, Prince Siddhartha only begins his journey when he must confront the reality that suffering exists.  Like the Happy Prince, Siddhartha spends years unable to find an answer — in the case of Wilde, because the prince is rooted to the spot — in the case of the Buddha, because each pathway is a dead end.  And finally comes enlightenment.  Both stories deal with giving up everything, even life itself, for the sake of our fellow beings.   And both stories speak of becoming reconciled with the idea of decay, sickness, and death … because the true beauty is in the spirit.  

The protagonists of the opera are a bird and an inanimate statue, so there’s certainly a level of irony in the fact that they are the most human characters in the story. More irony, too, in that an “object” can have its heart break, and in that moment, can become truly alive in the very act of dying.  This is no simplistic, feel-good moral tale.

There’s also another subtext in Wilde’s story which is worth talking about.  Because at the climax of the story, the statue says to the swallow, “But you must kiss me on the lips, for I love you.”  Within a minute, both are dead.  The thing is, though, they are both boys.  In that moment, Wilde shatters the “bromantic subterfuge” behind which his love story has been carefully concealed.  He gets away with it … after all, they are an animal and a statue … not people.  In my years of reading essays and discussions of Wilde, I’ve never heard anyone talk about this … it goes right over their heads.

Did Oscar Wilde predict, in this love story that is followed immediately by tragedy, what his own future would be?  Did he foresee that society would punish him as well and force him to ensure a living death in Reading Gaol from which he never recovered?
Come and see this gorgeous little children’s opera this coming week and decide for yourself if it is a pretty fable with adorable children, or a searing commentary on society, a Buddhist parable, and an early pride manifesto. 

The performances are at 7.30pm at the Thailand Cultural Center (Small Hall) on March 21 and 22.  It is only an hour long, so with decent traffic, kids will not have to stay much past their bedtime.

You can book directly here: https://goo.gl/RMyBLa