The Woman Who Married Don Juan

Some people simply refuse to stay dead.

A year after her husband’s fiery death, Don Juan’s widow Doña Elvira Tenorio returns to Seville bearing a young servant about to lose his heart to a budding lothario. Meanwhile, Elvira’s friend Doña Anna de Ulloa refuses to marry the boorish Don Octavio, while young newlywed Zerlina cheerfully frolics with every man in town—except her spouse.

There’s only one problem: Don Juan escapes from Hell and storms the Andalusian countryside seducing girls, pursued by the stony ghost of the blowhard Commendatore that he killed. Before it’s all over, fortunes are told and bandits ride, lusts are quenched and love is shattered, wedding plans are waylaid and a full-blown riot takes everyone to the flaming gates of Hell. Amidst this passionate pandemonium, Doña Elvira must choose to follow the not-so-dead husband she still loves—or finally kick Don Juan aside and get on with her life.

The Woman Who Married Don Juan at Amazon

The Woman Who Married Don Juan Facebook Page

Speaking of ‘Wild Things,’ love lost — and Mozart

One of the things that most intrigues me about writers and writing is influence -- what works on writers to make them create what they do? What fascinates them, encourages them, depresses them? Lots of people want to know from where writers get their ideas. Sometimes that is so hard to explain, but if you can find out what a writer loves, and hates, and fears, and finds joy in, then you will come closer to understanding what makes their imaginations tick.

Anyway, here's a fascinating article about Maurice Sendak and his loves and sorrows, called Speaking of ‘Wild Things,’ love lost — and Mozart. One of Sendak's great joys, as is mine, is the music of Mozart. There is much that is fascinating in this article, but I think I most love the conclusion:

But just a week before the interview, Sendak says, he began to come out of his depression. It started by picking up “Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens, followed by listening to Mozart’s “Don Giovanni.”

“I’m coming back to life — and the movie of ‘Wild Things’ and everything is life-enhancing,” says the author. “One looks for signs and symptoms of what is good and what is bad, what is pulling you down and what is holding it up. It’s Mozart, but I haven’t listened to him carefully for a long time. Now he’s back in my life with a vengeance. ... And there’s Charles Dickens.”

Max, of “Wild Things,” would be around 50 now.

“If I had a preference, he would be an artist,” says Sendak. “He would be an artist and it could be in any profession — in painting, in illustrating, in writing, in music. Oh, God, if he were a great pianist, I would be so happy!”

That tells me more about Maurice Sendak than anything I've ever read about him. I'm anxious to see the HBO documentary about Sendak, Tell Them Anything You Want, made by Spike Jonze and Lance Bangs, which is due out the same day as the DVD of WTWTA, March 2.

Don Giovanni is my favorite opera, BTW.

^..^

Happy Birthday, Renée!

Because, on February 14, 1959, the Saturday afternoon Metropolitan Opera radio broadcast was Mozart's Don Giovanni, conducted by Karl Böhm.

Nice performance, BTW.

Because Don Giovanni is possibly the most devastating opera ever written. Don Juan ripped apart and given his comeuppance, even though we still, somehow, want him to kick the crap out of that stony ghost and keep on going.

Because, on that Saturday in 1959 -- February 14, for those keeping score -- a little girl was born in the small town of Indiana, Pennsylvania.

And she was named Renée Fleming.

Because I just watched this tonight:



And it has been a long time since anything has wiped me out the way this did tonight.

When Renée sings "Non mi dir," I swear the heavens rip apart, and angels swarm around Donna Anna. While I turn into a puddle on the floor.

Anyhoo. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Renée Fleming. We have a date at the Folly Theatre in Kansas City in October. I will be there!

^..^