The Wicked


(From Wicked a week or so ago with my momma)

One of my favorite things about a story is when it personally speaks to you. It’s what I love about reading. Aside from the adventure a book brings,Β  I love connecting with the author, with the story, and with the characters. I’m not sure why, but perhaps it’s that message of “You’re not alone” that I find so calming among the pages of books in the hearts and minds of characters and stories.

Wicked is, without a doubt, one of those stories. From the moment I read the first page until the very end, I felt so moved, like someone had finally spoken an unknown truth. It’s an interesting perspective to hear the side of the villian, to learn why they are the way they are. You don’t think about villains in the story much. You only yearn for their defeat and the triumph of good over evil. Even authors and directors are guilty of not defending their villians and telling us how they came to be so evil, and even when they do, we never get the whole story.

But the truth is, no one is born that way, no one is born wicked, and even the Devil was once an angel.

To quote Gregory Maguire: “People who claim that they’re evil are usually no worse than the rest of us… It’s people who claim that they’re good, or any way better than the rest of us, that you have to be wary of.”


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