When he sings and plays his lyre, people are entranced, birds descend to hear him, wild beasts become tame, trees bend their boughs towards him, streams hesitate in their flowing. Orpheus is the greatest singer the world has ever known. My protagonists seem determined to head off into darkness and danger with me at their side with strings of words, wondering if I’ll be able to bring them safely back. It has helped shape many of my images, scenes and stories. It has pestered me ever since I began to write, especially for young people. History is rich in its retellings: Ovid, Monteverdi, Birtwistle, Nick Cave, Cocteau, Rodin, Rilke … the list goes on, and is a challenge and inspiration to any artist. It’s a legend that goes back to when we gathered in caves to be safe and warm, to eat and drink, to sing and chant and dance the stories, spells and rituals that expressed our love of life, that gave comforting shape to our fears. Could music have such force? Could love be so intense? Could Orpheus conquer death and charm the forces of the underworld? Could he bring his lost Eurydice to the world of light and life again? Always, their eyes widened as their minds and hearts were caught by its elemental power. I told it to primary school children on council estates in Gateshead, to troubled teenagers in Newcastle and North Tyneside. W hen I was a teacher, I often told the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice.
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