Hedwig & the Angry Inch: A Trio of Triads

Aristophanes’ speech from Plato’s Symposium, the Berlin Wall, and Hedwig & the Angry Inch; who would ever have guessed that this trinity has anything at all in common? Let alone a triad of themes that intertwine to tightly connect these fragments of history. There may be decades, or even centuries, between the philosophical classic, the East German calamity, and the modern theatrical concert; but three universal themes that they each represent are timeless. Reading Plato’s Symposium, it is easy to recognize these three points: 1) absolute power corrupts, 2) freedom requires sacrifice, and 3) mankind’s constant search for their other half. At the library, in search of resources concerning Germany and the Berlin Wall, words such as “power”, “freedom”, and “reunification” jumped off the spines and pages of those books and struck me with complete relevance. Since John Cameron Mitchell and Stephen Trask brilliantly fabricated their off-Broadway production of Hedwig & the Angry Inch to include direct thematic context to both Symposium and Communist East Berlin, the incorporation of the three aforementioned themes was inevitable.
As Hedwig’s mother warns her small child, “Absolute power corrupts” (22). Yet from Hitler to Hedwig, whether causing the devastation of an entire country and populace or just a chain of disjointed relationships, power has corrupted. The people of Aristophanes’ speech in Symposium abused their gods-given power to such an extent that “they made an attack upon…and would have laid hands upon the gods” (Plato 179). This terrible intention brought on their fate. First the gods wanted to “kill them and annihilate the race with thunderbolts”, but that “would be an end of the sacrifices and worship which men offered to them”. Then Zeus said, “Methinks I have a plan which will humble their pride…I will cut them in two and then they will be diminished in strength…”(Plato 179). A comparable power struggle happened in 20th century Berlin, only it was reversed and the Communists were the control gluttons. In June 1961, Krushchev implied that “the Soviet Union was prepared to fight a nuclear war” (Epler 49) which would obviously do away with everything. After Ulbright “gained supreme power in East Germany” (Epler 51) only three months later, he erected the Berlin Wall to stop the flow of escapes by valuable workmen; cutting the city of Berlin in two.
The parallels in these two stories are reflected in Hedwig by the use of allusion and in metaphorical representation using the character of Hedwig. Plato’s Symposium is represented in a “bedtime story that mother once whispered to [Hedwig] in the dark and later retracted” (Mitchell 25) with the song, “The Origin of Love”(26-31). Young Hedwig (then Hansel) took this story of love and “thought of power. The gods were terrified” (32). Hedwig/Hansel wanted the power of having someone love him and didn’t realize the compromises that would need to be made in loving back. When Luther came into the picture and seduced Hansel with Gummy Bears; the candy had “the taste of power” (38) to Hansel, not love. Hansel could taste the power he had over Luther; but Luther, together with thoughts of freedom, are the main reasons Hedwig/Hansel had the operation that would cause so much incompetence for years to come. This brings us to the Berlin Wall comparison, “Hedwig is like that wall, standing before you in the divide between East and West, Slavery and Freedom, Man and Woman…” (Mitchell 15). Hedwig’s sexual defect also put up a “wall”, preventing her from finding her “other half” regardless of the freedom the operation allowed. In Symposium, Aristophanes discusses the joining of man-woman, man-man, and woman-woman; but if Hedwig was neither man nor woman, what was Hedwig’s other half? The “angry inch” is the reason Tommy had such power over Hedwig, which gave Hedwig an excuse for her complete power over her husband, Yitzhak. From the beginning of the show, Hedwig pushes Yitzhak into the shadows, stepping on Yitzhak’s applause with, “There’s really no need” (18). This selfish domination over Yitzhak is used as a precautionary protection for Hedwig’s heart, however that is not the way to connect with your “other half”. Yitzhak, a man who yearns to be a drag queen, is cleverly cast as a woman. What could be a more perfect match for the sexual non-identity that is Hedwig?
Another of Hedwig’s mother’s lessons that Hedwig should have taken to heart is: “to be free, one must give up a little part of oneself” (43). Hedwig suffered this advice literally when freeing herself from East Berlin, but doesn’t give in to the intimate meanings of this theme readily enough. Just like the Soviet Union could not sacrifice their power for the people’s freedom (Yancey 13), Hedwig wasn’t about to give up her power trip for love. When, on their first encounter, Yitzhak (a drag queen by the name of Krystal at the time) asked to come with Hedwig, Hedwig says, “Krystal, to walk away, you gotta leave something behind. I’ll marry you on the condition that a wig never touches your head again” (56). Using her mother’s advice in all the wrong ways, Hedwig gives Yitzhak this ultimatum only because as a drag queen, Yitzhak gave a better performance than Hedwig. Hedwig would not be overshadowed. Hedwig’s ultimatum gave her absolute power in the relationship, and Hedwig gave up nothing for Yitzhak; two directions that don’t lead the way to your “other half”.
Perversion of power is the reason Zeus split us in half in the first place (Plato 179), now we’ve got to indulge in the emotional sacrifices that come with the search for our other half. This is something that Hedwig had experienced unwillingly and unrelentingly, which is why it was so easy to mistreat Yitzhak and take him for granted. Her bond with Tommy was the most painful of Hedwig’s failed relationships, and I found an interesting symbol of that. Hedwig paints “a bold silver cross on [Tommy’s] forehead” (64), which soon becomes the emblem of Tommy Gnosis. In Germany, on the west side of the Berlin Wall “white crosses marked East German escape attempts that had failed” (Yancey 25). Many people risked and even sacrificed their lives to get over, through, under, or around the Berlin Wall; Hedwig must take emotional risks in order break through her “wall”. At the end of the show, Hedwig realizes all of the emotional sacrifices she’s made. “They cut me up into parts/ I gave a piece to my mother/ I gave a piece to my man/ I gave a piece to the rock star/ He took the good stuff and ran” (70). But she ends the show “all sewn up” (70-72).
The split beings of Symposium ended up “longing to grow into one, they were on the point of dying from hunger and self-neglect, because they did not like to do anything apart” (Plato 180). Correspondingly “disgraced and divided, East and West Germans never stopped wanting to become one again” (Yancey 8). Analogously, Hedwig thought to himself, after hearing his mother’s story of “The Origin of Love”, “It is clear that I must find my other half” (31). Hedwig’s first realization of, “No, he was never the one. Never the missing half” (46) about Luther, was on “November 9, 1989. Junction City, Kansas” (46). That same day, “November 9, a Communist spokesperson announced that the Berlin Wall no longer served any purpose and that all travel restrictions were lifted” (Yancey 36). The bitter irony of those two events occurring on the same day, and the fact that Hedwig was “divorced, penniless, a woman”, left her crying, “because I will laugh if I don’t” (46). Although it was the end of Germany’s quest for reunification, Hedwig’s journey still had quite a span. Tommy decided for her that they didn’t fit together. As Hedwig puts it, most of his excursions only ended up to be “the jobs we call blow” (57).
Hedwig finally lets down her façade of power over Yitzhak (unintentionally at first), then sees Yitzhak from a new perspective. “It’s nice over here. Out of the spotlight. You and me…”, then she ruins the moment with, “The German and the Jew. Think of the symmetry. Think of the power.” (68). Yitzhak sees the usual Hedwig leaking back in and spits in her face. Hedwig (as Tommy) finally makes the personal realization that there is “no cosmic lover preassigned” (Trask 74). Hedwig gives Yitzhak a wig, followed by the lyrics, “Know that you’re whole” (75). Hedwig ultimately and benevolently sacrifices her power over Yitzhak for Yitzhak’s freedom. “Hedwig begs Yitzhak’s hand. He grants it and they dance. She releases his hand, setting him free…he exits into the house with the grace of new hope…Hedwig waves goodbye” (78).
Hedwig demonstrates how the corruption of absolute power, sacrifice for freedom, and mankind’s personal search for wholeness are all intertwined. We realize by the end that Hedwig’s mother was a wise woman indeed, but Hedwig had to acquire these lessons as they applied to her own unique life. John Cameron Mitchell and Stephen Trask dig into the resources provided by Symposium and the tragedy of the Berlin Wall, but they learn from history and take their story further. Hedwig’s personal journey goes beyond 1989, and Mitchell and Trask explore options that aren’t realized in Symposium. Overall, this is a brilliant work that portrays three timeless, universal themes, and how they correlate to form one of the basic human necessities; love.