“But the Liquidators say, – ‘never mind you needn’t pay,’
So you start another Company tomorrow!”
Imagine for the moment that you are the King of a South Sea Island Paradise.
Since it’s so nice there, you decide to call it “Utopia.” As we all learned
in English – 101, the word “Utopia” was coined by the English writer Sir
Thomas More in his fictional satire called “Utopia” (1516), from Greek terms
meaning “no” and “place.” More describes an imaginary society without the
inequalities of wealth and status that characterized his own Tudor England.
Now if I were such a King, I’d leave the cell phone at home and sit on
the beach with one of those drinks in a coconut shell with a little umbrella
in it and enjoy life.
This King, however, is always trying to think of new and better ways to
improve his island kingdom. (He calls himself “King Paramount, the First."
Since Paramount means “No. 1" or “the first,” he’s known familiarly around
the palace as "King the First, the First.”)
He has sent his eldest daughter off to college in England so she can learn
all the secrets that have made England the preeminent country in the world.
In addition, he hires a veddy proper English Lady to “finish” his two
younger daughters in the proper English fashion. So now he has two teen-age
girls acting like Mrs. Grundy.
The opera begins on the day that the eldest daughter, Princess Zara is to
return from England.
All is not sweetness and light for the King. While he is nominally a
benevolent despot and his will is law, the government of Utopia has three
branches with checks and balances, in some ways similar to ours, but with
some interesting twists.
The King is advised by the second branch of the government, the Utopian
Supreme Court, consisting of two wise men. The King is required to do
everything they tell him to. If he does not, they report him to the third
branch of the government, the Public Exploder, who forthwith dynamites the
King and becomes King in his stead. We assume, I guess, that a new Public
Exploder is then appointed.
Thus the King is trapped by these two men who run roughshod over the
government and even require the King to make fun of himself publically both
in print and on the stage.
But now his daughter has come to his rescue. She has not only returned home
from college but has brought with her some interesting house guests. The
first are members of the British Household Cavalry, commonly known as “The
First Life Guards.” These are the guys you see all dressed up in scarlet
tunics with shiny breast plates, white breeches and high black boots, seated
on huge chargers in front of Whitehall in London to amuse the tourists.
There are five of these stalwarts led by a Captain Fitzbattleaxe. We can
assume that this colorful escort was provided by the English government to
honor a fellow monarch.
Another thing that girls commonly bring home from college is a new
boyfriend. Fitzbattleaxe is the guy.
In addition to her escort, she has brought a handful of “consultants,” who
Gilbert calls “Flowers of Progress,” who will help her father modernize his
kingdom and convert it from a backward paradise to a modern clone of
England. What fun!
These experts include a Lord Chamberlain who will censor stage productions (a
touchy subject with Gilbert,) a County Councilor who will introduce flush
toilets to everyone, an attorney who will teach the populace how to use both
sides of their brains simultaneously, a stock broker who will teach them how
to make stupendous profits on their real estate investments, and finally a
Captain of the Royal Navy to teach them how to convert their sailing navy
into one of steam and steel.
Now, what could possibly go wrong?
In short order, the two wise men of the Supreme Court simultaneously fall in
love with Princess Zara. This conundrum is neatly solved by Captain Fitz
invoking the “Rival Admirers’ Clauses Consolidation Act.” A law familiar to
every English schoolboy.
Then, Mr. Goldbury, the stock broker, convinces the King that he should
incorporate his kingdom as a Limited Liability Company under the “Joint
Stock Companies Act of 1862.” You may recall that this act is printed, in
full, on the back of every derivative financial instrument you have ever
purchased.
This seems to be such a popular idea that every citizen of Utopia forms his
or her own little limited liability company and issues a prospectus
outlining the advantages of investment. Thus they change the name of the
kingdom to “Utopia, Ltd.”
The big number opening the second act features the lead tenor
(Fitzbattleaxe) so in love with Zara that he loses his voice! Aha, you say.
The perfect ending for an opera! No, we still have a long way to go. On top
of that, he is exaggerating a bit when he claims that his voice cracks when
he attempts a “C.” While his voice certainly cracks, I checked the score and
it’s actually only an E-flat.
If you can handle that nonsense, the fact that a minstrel show breaks out in
the middle of the annual board meeting of Utopia, Ltd. (The Company) should
be little reason for concern.
That is followed by a debutantes' ball in the Royal Palace and a group sing
of a popular song about shooting at a sparrow with an arrow while a tiger
and a fawn stand by as you fix them with your eye. It’s very pretty and ends
with glory crowning the day.
All of this jollity isn’t sitting well with the other branches of the
government. For one thing, threatening the King with explosion was all very
well in the old days, but now that he is a corporation it is much less
effective. Plus Utopia is now running so smoothly that most of the little
“get rich” schemes of the wise men are going bankrupt. So they hatch a
diabolical plot . . .
Meanwhile, the Lord Chamberlain and the Stock Broker have gotten to the two
younger princesses and convinced them that English girls are really not so
up tight as Lady Sophy has taught them. This revelation leads to the dancing
of a Tarantella, of all things.
Also Lady Sophy has learned that the King was not himself when he said all
those unflattering things about himself, both on stage and in the
newspapers. He was under the influence of the Supreme Court. This revelation
leads to them dancing a minuet, of all things.
At that point, the plot dreamed up by the two wise guys and the Exploder
hatches. It’s not much of a plot, consisting mainly of inciting a riot among
the villagers, who denounce the consultants for messing with their lives.
The King and his court are at first baffled by this but finally the Attorney
reminds Princess Zara that she overlooked something essential in remodeling
the government. That, simply put, is letting political parties run
everything. As we all know, the collective wisdom of our politicians can
solve most any problem and they do it in an acuminous manner.
So the show finally ends with a bang. (No pun involved here.)
--Mike Storie
Producer
