Alchemy

Turning Lead Into Dreams

Shocker of the (previous) millennium: a play called The Alchemist has alchemy as a huge symbol.

We know; we know. Don't worry. To help you out of your stunned stupor, we can rub vinegar all over your face—including in your eyes!—and get you on the waiting list for an 100% honest-to-goodness philosopher's stone. For a very fair price.

Because in this play, alchemy means swindling. It's the illusion of hope (worthless metal into gold? yes please!) that our fearsome threesome is selling the masses. It's both a long con and a short grift—because once a dummy has been played for a little bit of cash (short grift) there's a very good chance he'll be back for more (long con).

That's the thing about selling the promise of a way to turn lead into gold: you're not so much being sold gold as you're being sold the promise of gold. That's what people are suckered in by: the hope of a golden future.

Like Surly (the only guy not fooled by Face & Co's game) says:

"Alchemy is a pretty kind of game, / Somewhat like tricks o' the cards, to cheat a man / With charming." (2.3.180-182)

The key words here are "pretty" and "charming." No one's getting duped into shelling out coin for alchemical tricks because alchemy sounds legit. It's because alchemy sounds charming.

In fact, the alchemy ruse only goes so far. Soon the suckers that frequent Face's House of Ill-Repute (not its real name) are willing to forget about the whole magical alchemy part of the equation and settle for achieving their dreams however they can.

Take a look-see at our (least) favorite Anabaptists:

TRI. Ay; but stay,
This act of coining, is it lawful?

ANA. Lawful!
We know no magistrate: or, if we did,
This is foreign coin.

SUB. It is no coining, sir.
It is but casting.

TRI. Ha! you distinguish well:
Casting of money may be lawful.

ANA. 'Tis, sir.

They're talking about doing something very similar to alchemy—counterfeiting. After all, what's the big difference? If you can change something that isn't money into money, who cares if you slap the label of "alchemy" on it? A rose by any other name might smell as sweet, but alchemy by any other name means getting the cold hard cash necessary to buy all the roses you dang well please.

Turning Lead Into Limelight

But there's more to the symbol of alchemy than just sweet, sweet money.

There's also art.

We're going to get a tad meta on you now…because that's what Ben Jonson is doing in this entire play. Alchemy in The Alchemist is shorthand for the illusion of the theater.

After all, what's more of an alchemical process than turning common people into princes, witches, dukes, and gods? Or beet juice into blood? Or cardboard into swords and dragons? Or cheap foil into priceless jewelry?

Because that's exactly what happens onstage. We pay good money to go see a show knowing full well that what we're about to see isn't real. We suspend our disbelief and buy into the spectacle that total strangers are falling in love, dying, and betraying each other before our very eyes. We pay for a lie…and we love every minute of it.

Let's take another look at Surly's quote about alchemy:

"Alchemy is a pretty kind of game, / Somewhat like tricks o' the cards, to cheat a man / With charming." (2.3.180-182)

Yup. That can absolutely be applied to watching a production. We think we're clever enough to be paying for the spectacle and not fooling ourselves…but in fact "fooling ourselves" is exactly what's happening.

Have you ever walked out of a movie theater (because if a play's alchemical, then a movie absolutely is) with tears in your eyes, a new crush on a Hollywood hottie, or the kind of renewed faith in humanity that follows the end of a good romance?

If you have, congrats. You've succumbed to the alchemy of drama…just like people were way back in 1610. And we're willing to bet that you'll be back for more.