Wednesday, October 28, 2009

A Song is a Wish Your Heart Makes. . . .

I know that’s not how the song actually goes but it does describe my reading of late. Over the course of the past several weeks, I’ve encountered three different and yet important portrayals of song. I’m just not entirely sure what to do with these distinct images. I feel much as if someone handed me several puzzle pieces and told me to make a picture; I’m just not sure if the pieces make the same puzzle. Nevertheless, I must see if I can make a cohesive image.

Having spent the majority of my life engaged in a relationship with a giant singing mouse, I appreciate the idea that each of us has songs lurking inside, waiting for the right moment (and the perfect assembly of ensemble) to burst forth. I also believe that there are times when songs are the only means of expression. True, we may not have a “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?” type song erupt from our imagination impromptu but that doesn’t mean that there hasn’t been a song performed and created by another that seems to represent more than we can put into words.

With that said, with such feelings on the subject, perhaps I merely see a connection of melody where none actually exists.

The first piece of the puzzle comes from this week’s assigned text: August Wilson’s “Joe Turner’s Come and Gone.” One of the most powerful moments of the play is delivered in stage directions for some ambitious actor to embody. Wilson writes that Loomis, “[having] found his song, the song of self-sufficiency, fully resurrected, cleansed and given breath, free from any encumbrance other than the workings of his own heart and the bonds of the flesh, having accepted the responsibility for his own presence in the world, he is free to soar above the environs that weighed and pushed his spirit into terrifying contractions” (93-94 Plume Edition). How, I ask, is an actor to portray all of this? How is the audience to know that such a pivotal moment has just occurred? Even if the best actor manages to convey freedom in his body language, how can he show that his song has been actualized? In some ways, I almost feel as if Wilson has cheated his audiences here. Instead of struggling to find the words to express this sentiment, he just writes “Goodbye, Martha” and leaves the rest up to the acting (94 Plume Edition).

Take that idea, that image, and juxtapose on top of it the images that Wole Soyinka creates in “Death and the King’s Horseman.” Soyinka, in capturing the essence of his people, the Yoruba, ensures that song is an ever-felt presence. Here, however, it comes most often from the Praise-Singer, a man whose job it is to sing not the songs hidden within his own heart but the melodies belonging to another man. The Praise-Singer’s music is critical; it is not only the acknowledgement of Elesin but the insurance that Elesin fulfills his sacred duty. No less important that Loomis’ “song of self-sufficiency,” the Praise-Singer’s music gains its power based on the needs of a greater collective. We have then, two types of song: the song of the individual and the song needed for the community. These two portrayals of song couldn’t be too much more different in nature (one sung by a man, the other sung to a man, one sung solo, the other sung communal) and yet found in each is a truth powerful enough to shake worldviews and rock entire foundations.

Over these two images, I find myself complicating things by adding a third. Frederick Douglass, in his personal narrative, wrote “I have often been utterly astonished, since I came north, to find persons who speak of the singing, among slaves, as evidence of their contentment and happiness. It is impossible to conceive of a greater mistake. Slaves sing most when they are most unhappy. The songs of the slave represent the sorrows of his heart; and he is relived by them, only as an aching heart is relived by its tears” (9 Dover Edition). Out of all that Douglass had to say, much of which was powerful, this image has taken precedence, twisting and reshaping my thoughts. And as I read these two other plays enriched with music, speaking of the colonized Yoruba and the recently freed African Americans, I wonder how Douglass’ observation fits into the greater whole, if it does at all.

As I’m not sure that I’ve found anything amazing to stay about my puzzle pieces, I don’t have much else to say. Perhaps there is no connection or perhaps the connection is so profound that it boggles my little mind (much along the lines of ‘can God create something so large, even He can’t move it?’) Either way, I can’t help but feel that these three images are stuck in my head for a reason. Any thoughts?

The Culture of Black Incarceration

“If a black was convicted of vagrancy or some minor offense (petty larceny, drunkenness), and fined, he became… in effect a kind of slave; he was turned over to a white employer who paid the fine and got a laborer in return (Lawrence 95)”

In this chapter of Crime and Punishment in American History, author Lawrence Friedman is discussing the incarceration of black men in Post-Reconstruction America. Reconstruction was a confusing time in America. When the Civil War ended there was chaos in the south. The southern economy was crippled not only by the free work force it lost, but by the price tag for the war. During the years of Reconstruction the incarceration rates of newly freed slaves skyrocketed. Often they would be incarcerated for the most ridiculous crimes. They would be arrested and put to work on a chain gang.

Incarceration is a reoccurring theme in Joe Turner’s Come and Gone. The first time we hear about it in the play is at the very beginning. Jeremy is not at breakfast because he was picked up by the police for hanging out after work. Later on in the play we find out that Herald Loomis did a seven year bid on the chain gang. On page 74 of my text Loomis says, “I was walking down this road in this little town outside of Memphis. Come up on these fellows gambling. I stooped to preach to these fellows to see if maybe I could turn some of them from their sinning when Joe Tunrer, brother of the Governor of the great sovereign state of Tennessee, swooped down on us and grabbed everybody there. Kept us all seven years. My wife Martha hone from me after Joe Turner catched me…I just wanna see her face so I can get me a starting place in the world(Wilson 74).” This bit of information is critical. Not only does it tell how the play got its title, but it explains why Herald Loomis is lost.

One hundred years after men like Herald Loomis went to prison black men are still going to jail at alarming numbers. According to an essay published in Being a Black Man: At the Corner of Progress Peril, Hamil Harris and Ben De La Cruz are quoted saying, “More than a fifth of all black men ages 35 to 44 have been to prison—twice the percentage pf Hispanic men and six times the percentage of white men in the same age group. If current incarceration rates hold, Justice Department statisticians project, about one in three black males will go to state or federal prison during their lifetimes. One of every 14 black children has a parent in prison. Since 1954, when 98,000 blacks were incarcerated, the black prison population has grown to nearly 1 million. Although blacks account for just 12 percent of the population of the U.S. population, 44 percent of all inmates are black. In each state in this nation, the percentage of blacks in prison exceeds the percentage of African Americans in the general population (Being 239).”

In the past thirty years incarceration has become apart of the culture of black poverty. In some black communities going to jail has become a rite of passage. I think what has happened is that for so long so man black people were going to jail that it became a way of life. I love this play because August Wilson does a great job of putting the culture of black incarceration into perspective for the theatre world. It dose not take much to connect the dots from 1865, to 1911, to 2009.

Works Cited

Being a Black Man At the Corner of Progress and Peril. New York: PublicAffairs, 2007. Print.

Friedman, Lawrence M. Crime and Punisment in American History. Basic Books, 1994. Print.

Wilson, August. Joe Turner's Come and Gone: a play in two acts. New American Library, 1988. Print.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Culture of the marketplace and kitchen

I wanted to take a moment and talk about my first impressions of Joe Turner’s Come and Gone and Death and the Kings Horseman. The first thing I thought was the setting that ties each of these plays together, and the music that is used throughout the plays that give each one a solid heart.

In Joe Turner’s Come and Gone we are given a homey, large kitchen and parlor in which many of the scenes take place around a table. While in Death and the Kings Horseman there are several places we travel to, I want to focus on the Marketplace. It is the Marketplace where we are first introduced to our characters, it is also here where most of the important scenes (except the final scene) regarding the characters that are native to Nigeria are seen and heard through poetry and dance.
The Kitchen for many brings up feelings of Mom and family, when one has a party where do most of the guests congregate? If it is large enough the kitchen or dining room will be the meeting place. It may be more comfortable to be in the living room on the couch, but you often find the kitchen is the heart of the home. The Holly’s home in Joe Turner is no different. The boarders may not be family per say but they act like one.

Then you have the Marketplace in Death and the Kings Horseman. We learned last week the market place was a meeting place and usually run by the women, so I find it fitting to place the wedding scene and the ritual of passage here where it is lead by the women. The kitchen and marketplace are run and fed by strong women.
In the Holly home, Bertha may not have a lot of lines but the kitchen is her domain and she runs it with a firm hand. For example in Act Two Scene One Bertha says to Seth while making breakfast “go on out there and make some pots and pans and leave them people alone.” And in Death when the “police” arrive in the marketplace to take Elesin away the women stand up to them and even mock them by speaking with English accents.

This brings me then to the music and songs used in both plays. Considering both plays are on different continents, during different time periods the feel is similar and the sound is too, to a point. In Death they perform a Yoruba dance. Lead by a praise singer with drums this is a call and response song consisting of poetry and verse. In Joe turner they also have a call and response song called a Yuba, based on Ring Shouts of the African Slaves. (page 52 of JTCAG) Since they do not have any drums they use the table or chests to pound out the heavy beat.

The following is a better example of the Yuba song as defined by the Encyclopedia Britannica: A dance of Afro-American slaves, found as late as the 19th century from Dutch Guiana to the Caribbean and the southern United States. It was danced by a circle of men around two men who performed various steps (e.g., the juba, the long dog scratch, the pigeon wing) in response to a rhythmic call and to the clapping (patting juba) of the other dancers. As a refrain, after each new step the circle danced counterclockwise using the juba step. The juba contained features that persist in Afro-American dances, notably improvisation, shuffle steps, supple body movements, and sharp rhythms and was probably related to the African giouba.

“Patting juba”—slapping the hands, legs, and body to produce complex, rapid rhythms—survived the dance and still appears occasionally in areas where the dance had flourished.

Lastly I found it very fascinating that Joe turner takes place in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 1910 about 30 years prior to Death and the Kings Horseman (1944). But when you read the two side by side I get a more contemporary feel from Wilson than I do Soyinka. That’s a whole nother blog!

Here is a link to a quick video of the Lincoln Center’s production of Joe Turner.
http://www.lct.org/showMain.htm?id=186

J'veux ton amour, Et je veux ta revanche

After debating in class what was really meant behind "clash of cultures" I began wondering - what is so wrong with that? Many definitions of clash deal with a physical battle between two separate things. In this sense, the battle would be between the English Colonials and the Yoruba people. If this clearly is a story that deals with the two, why is focusing on their differences such a bad thing? AFter thinking about this, perhaps it is because the differences are completely noticeable without ever having to be defined. When I first read the play and was coming up with my own idea of how it would be portrayed, the production had the two cultures at completely different ends of the spectrum. The Yoruba scenes were played in the thrust portion of my stage to show openness, but the English scenes were performed behind the proscenium to present a stereotypical classic style of doing drama. I even wanted the English people to be painted in a way that they resembled clowns. But then the author's notes have a way of haunting the reader/producer. I didn't want to present a clash of culture.
While reading the theory of Post-colonialism, it talks about Soyinka specifically wanting to discuss the differences between cultures (red flag?). However, it goes on to discuss that he also focuses on survival, and when reading Death and the King's Horseman I believe that survival is key in what Soyinka is writing about. It's easy for one to be distracted by the clashing of the two cultures (and perhaps it's purposely written that way), but Soyinka even goes as far as to point survival out in his play. I think one of the most pivotal scenes in the show is the 4th scene in which Olunde finds Jane and they begin discussing Olunde's father's decisions. "I thought all that at the beginning. Then I slowly realised that your greatest art is the art of survival. But at least have the humility to let others survive in their own way" (Olunde, pg 53). It is in this scene where the physical barriers are torn down between the two cultures (as we see Olunde as a bridge between the two), but it is here where we see the true clashing of cultures as they are compared throughout the scene. Soyinka makes a very poignant juxtaposition of the cultures where we see ideal English colonial/Western perspective explicitly challenged and defeated from multi-cultural perspective.
I believe that Olunde is the pure example of survival. I think Soyinka, whether or not he meant to, created the survival out of the two cultures. That is not to say that the original Yoruba culture is in anyway wrong, but I think that it's impossible to imagine a non-european influence Yoruban, but we get close to that with Olunde. Another example, it got brought up in class the idea of natives playing the orchestrations at the Prince's reception - I tried to make a point of this but the conversation got distracted away into another area of thought, but would that not be an example of survival, and celebrating the blend (the positive idea of clash) of cultures, even though power is still unfair. I'm starting to get lost in thoughts, creating more questions and answers than I have the time to make sense of. I will end this saying that I believe survival is key and whichever route a producer of the play has to deal with the clashing of cultures is fine, as long as the end result is still a gut-wrenching understanding of BOTH cultures.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Was it Elesin's fault??????

One critical aspect of this piece that we did not discuss in class was the reaction of the Yoruba tribe once the ritual suicide was not accomplished by Elesin. The reaction could have been easier to comprehend if he decided by his own will that he did not want to complete the ritual. I constantly remind myself not to place judgement on their actions during this scene. Their response was another reminder in the cultural differences between this tribes paradigms and our conditioned way of thinking. Olunde's remark to his father when he realizes he is still alive gave me chills. Olunde says, "I have no father, eater of left overs." Can you imagine speaking to a loved one in that manner over a situation that was not entirely their fault. Which makes me further ponder this situation. Did Elesin have accountability in the failure to complete the ritual?

In scene five he pleads with Iyaloja. He states "I need neither your pity nor the pity of the world. I need your understanding. Even I need understanding. You were present at my defeat." She answers him in parables but later eludes to a statement she made in scene one. When Elesin selected a woman to take into the "bridal chamber" , she cautions him to make sure the seed he leaves attracts no curse. Elesin choice to select a bride for his sexual desire was not a requirement for his transition. Is it possible that in their spiritual realm, the gods werent happy with his choice? If he would have not made this choice and the events occured as they did, would the village still hold him accountable? This question will never be answered. What is certain is the severity, discipline and wieght that honour holds in this culture.


My next thought about this reading was the aspect of christianty used as a tactic by the British. I found myself utterly disgusted by the British disassembling their way of life for their own profit and using christianity as a tool to do it. However, Iam not oblivious to the thoughts that may have ran through my mind if I had knowledge that someone one in the community I was living was planning to kill theirself. What would any of you do? What would be your obligation now that you have (unlawfully) control of their way of life?

As a christian who considers myself more spiritual than religious, I struggle with this type of missionary conversion. I struggle with the racial implications they place on the portrayl of Jesus as the white savior with flowing blonde hair and blue eyes. These images painted that would cause Joseph to make a statement like, " Oh no, master is white man. and good christian. Black man juju can't touch master." For centuries, people have twisted and turned the bible to support whatever theory they want to support. It has been used out of context for all types of negative and corrupt gains. In this miseducation, a main theme is lost. The simple source is love.

Loving your neighbor, doesnt make you come to another continent and steal their land and break down their way of life? Love considers your fellow man in the way you consider yourself.

Love is patient and kind;love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way. It's not irritable or resentful; It does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all thing. So now faith, hope and love abide, these three, but the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:4)

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

In Your Free Time . . .

I know that right now, mid-production, free time seems as magical and impossible as unicorns. Nevertheless, a friend of mine showed me a couple of video clips that reminded me of discussions we'd had in class. You may have seen them before but, if not, these clips are quite funny. Both feature Hugh Laurie, with Stephen Fry in one and Rowan Atkinson in the other.

The first is a mock Shakespeare Master Class where they focus on the importance of language.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gL5aBB1ZPtE&feature=youtube_gdata

The second is a "minor" rewrite suggested to Shakespeare from his editor.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IwbB6B0cQs4&feature=youtube_gdata

If you have the time and haven't seen them already, enjoy!

Monday, October 19, 2009

Death and the Playwright's Intentions

It’s disturbing that Wole Soyinka wants to dictate the interpretations in his works. According to the author’s notes before Death and the King’s Horseman, he seems thoroughly engaged in the idea of bringing about an essence of sorrowful, musical transitions and metaphysical confrontations, while refusing to admit that his work is largely about how the Yoruban community is being corrupted.

This refusal to focus on themes of the environment might have to do with Soyinka’s upbringing. He has to write about a westernized Yoruban culture because that’s just the way it is now. These themes are a part of his life, and so he just writes in that mode without thinking about it. However, criticizing those with a different perspective is a flaw. All playwrights should be aware of the fact that their audience always has a right to an individual perspective. He cannot be angry when someone finds one theme more substantial than the ones he intended. Soyinka even went so far as to call those with a different perspective perverse.

This “perverse” writer of the introduction to his novel, Season of Anomy, thought that the book was about the west’s influence in African traditions. Soyinka didn’t want people to think this of Death and the King’s Horseman this way either. Yet, how could one look at Death and the King’s Horseman and not think that it was about the western world’s corruption of African tradition? The scenes are split up so that sometimes it is from an African perspective, with Elesin the focal character, and other times from a European perspective, with the Pilkings in focus. There is only one time that Elesin and Simon Pilkings talk to eachother, and that’s at the end. If Soyinka wanted us to solely focus on the metaphysical confrontations and “Threnodic” music, he would not add so much hope for Elesin in the women’s songs, and he would not focus half of the time on a seemingly atheist British man. The main reason for the sorrow in the play was the influence of this British man on the community. Therefore, it would seem obvious to blame the westernization.

Based on Soyinka’s goals as a playwright, he does not seem to use his tools very cleverly. Not only does he put down those that have spent time focusing on him (namely the writer of the introduction of his novel), but he also doesn’t clearly outline his plays in a way that benefits his motives of bringing out only an essence of Thredonic music and metaphysical confrontations. However, if he succeeded in this, the play would be flat. Soyinka should be grateful that he failed at making his play void of depth.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Where Have All The Men Gone?

A question that we briefly brought up in class pertaining to Come Down Burning by Kia Corthron was: where are all the men? Upon reading the script and watching the play, I immediately made the assumption that this is a feminist play; a play dealing with the lives of women and dealing with the decisions that woman are sometimes forced to make. Like the play, I left the men exempt. In doing this, I found myself discriminating against others based on sex, assuming that men "wouldn't understand the decisions of a woman in this situation". I will be the first to say that this is the wrong attitude and the wrong assumption. Perphaps a man would not be able to understand the significance of abortion, but at this point, I cannot understand those specific circumstances either. I also cannot understand what it is like to live in deep poverty or be disabled, both issues the women in Come Down Burning dealt with. So it would be ridiculous of me to assume that because men are not written into the show that men in the audience would not be able to relate. As suggested in the book "Women in American Theatre" by Helen Krich Chinoy and Linda Walsh Jenkins, I will acknowledge that men have been written out of the script Come Down Burning. And now I will attempt to write them back in.

There are a few men that we know of in the script based off of the character's talk of them. Bink mentions a man named Gary. As Bink asks Skoolie about a performing an abortion for her, Skoolie replies that someone needs to watch the kids in the meantime. "My Gary will watch 'em. He knows it got to be done." ( Scene 2, p 13). From this we can assume that 1. Gary is Bink's husband, 2. He understands her decision on the abortion and supports it, and 3. He is mature enough to watch over not only his children, but other's children as well. From these assumptions, it is safe to label Gary as a loving, understanding father figure. The script also mentions another man, Willie Joe's father. He is said to have left Tee and the children when Willie Joe was one years old, forcing Tee to move in with her sister. The man who got Tee pregnant is unknown. From this the assumption can be made that the men in Tee's life tend to run out on her. Another man mentioned in the script is Mr. Jim, Skoolie's and Tee's father who died when they were children. The script is specific to say that he worked for twenty-three years and left with "not enough pension to feed a flea." (Scene 2, p 12). But he could be painted as a hard working man supporting his family until his death. There are also several boys mentioned in the script, Willie-Joe, Tee's son, Jazzman, Tee's baby,Charlie Wilt, the cussing boy in Evie's class, and Jay, Bink's son. Willie-Joe is the only male seen onstage. Gary's father is also mentioned, as he is the reason Bink moved back to town, so that Gary could take over his hardware store. (Scene 2, p 11). It seems that the men who are mentioned by name are the men who are worth mentioning.

Although I do feel that Come Down Burning is a feminist play, I don't think it is a feminist play that men have no part in, which is how I originally felt. However, in taking a closer interpretation of the script, the men who are written in the script take away from the feminist aspect of the show. There are men written into the play as "good" men who are still around, and "bad" men who leave their wife and children behind. I think this makes another strong view on how men are intertwined with the decisions of women concerning abortion. The script almost punishes the family without a man with the loss of Tee's life, where the family that includes a patriarchy is blessed with the survival of Bink. Was this really the purpose of men in the script? Could this be another aspect of the play: that a man in the family is needed in order to survive; and that a female (Skoolie) attempting to replace the patriarchy is doomed to fail? If so, it would certainly change some views I have of the show, especially taking the feminist view into consideration.

Monday, October 5, 2009

ONLY English in America!

During our discussion of My Fair lady today in class the conversation took a real quick turn to people in America speaking other languages. We were not able to delve deeply into this issue and I thought it’s a good one to discuss, so I just had to vocalize my opinion. I am of the opinion that everyone in this country should learn this language.

If I should travel to a foreign country I would not expect them to learn my language, but for me to learn theirs. Is that such a hard thing to do? I understand many people come from all over to live here and to have the “American Dream” so should that not entail learning the language?

My best friend (whom ill call G) has a grandmother who is completely helpless because she does not know our language, she moved here in the early 60’s from Italy and never bothered to learn English. I don’t find this very safe if she should need an emergency. Her entire life she has lived with her family who had been schooled here and all speak English. I do know my friend has tried to teach her English so she could get around. She refuses saying it’s “her country now and thinks we should all know Italian”. She is living with my friend but is becoming a burden on the family but they are having a problem finding a home that can accommodate her language needs. They are in Southern New Jersey and have found some homes, but most are in NY state or NY city. That just opens a whole new can of worms with her and New Yorkers.

America is a melting pot of many nations, religions, and ideals. Can’t we have one thing in common?

Is Eliza Doolittle a Prostitue Archetype?

We really saw some wonderful presentations on "My Fair Lady" today. I would like to focus particularly on the remake which involved Eliza becoming a New York stripper. What I loved about the concept is that it creatively put the terms of the play in a setting that many Americans understand (or think they understand). However, I am really wrestling with the idea of Eliza Doolittle as a stripper or even a sex worker. I think this concept is riddled with pitfalls and may only serve to make Liza's character little more than a prostitute archetype. That being said I wonder if in the original version of "Pygmalion" and later "My Fair Lady" there is a concept of Eliza selling herself and selling out in order to elevate her status.
In Act II of "Pygmalion" and Act I Scene 3 of "My Fair Lady" Eliza tolerates an onslaught of insults and name calling from Higgins. For example Higgins says in both plays,"Pickering, shall we ask this baggage to sit down, or shall we throw her out the window." Thankfully Eliza retorts "I won't be called baggage when I offer to pay like any lady!" Eliza definitely stands up to Higgins when his insults become unbearable, but she decides to subject herself to his abrasive nature. She endures much of the unprovoked antics of Higgins because in the end she has an agenda of using his knowledge to help herself. However in her effort to improve herself is Eliza compromising too much of herself and thus becoming a prostitue archetype?
Honestly I would say at most Eliza Doolittle is a mini prostitute archetype. The screenwriters of "Pretty Woman" decided to distort the "Eliza Doolittle " figure into a mega prostitute archetype. She literally is a street walker. Besides occupational differences the main distinction between "Pygmalion" and "Pretty Woman is within the context of the relationships between the male and female characters. In "Pretty Woman" ,especially at the end, Julia Robert's character agrees to be rescued by Richard Gere's character. There is a feeling that the this character's only option was to be a street walker or the wife (or girlfriend) of her john. The dynamics of the male female relationships reduces the film to a "patriarchal mode of fantasizing woman'...." (Bernheimer, 220). "Pygmalion" and "My Fair Lady" don't have the dynamic of Higgins rescuing a whore but rather of Higgins demanding that his creation stay in her place. What makes Shaw's work more interesting is that there is the hint that Eliza having gotten what she needed from Higgins is now capable to go out on her own and create her own life.
There are different examples in the "Pygmalion" where it appears that Eliza puts up with too much from Higgins. However, what keeps Eliza from being pigeon holed to a prostitute archetype is that in the end she does have a sense of who she is and how to make it work for her. She even proposes to Higgins that she may use his trade secrets to gain employment with his rival. Basically there are several moments in Pygmalion where Eliza appears to have levels of self actualization. If we remake Eliza into a stripper or any other over sexualized character it minimizes the nuances of her development in the play.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

If only I had a better title for This

I feel like there is an assumption being made that Higgins and Eliza made the most logical decision, therefore they are happy with their decision, and I don't see that. Also, I don't give anyone the credit of being completely logical in a moment of both intense emotion, and confusion, so I think if Higgins could conjure up anyway to tell Eliza to stay, he would of, but that was not the case. In my opinion, their final decision was not based on anything more than the fact that Higgin's couldn't of asked her to stay even if he wanted to. What I'm trying to get across is the concept that, though it was impossible for the two of them to be together, I feel both of them might never get over the fact that it didn't happen.
All this derives from Higgin's fascination with Eliza. Though argument can be made of what exactly his intentions are, Eliza is an attractive girl that is unlike any Higgin's has ever encountered, and for that reason he cannot put his finger on the finite reason Eliza astounds him. To me it has something to do with the fact of her wit and confidence, regardless of her lower class. Higgins created all of her that appeared prestigous, and high in social class, but he couldn't alter her persona in it's truest form. This made her a mysterious uncomprehendable toy almost to Higgins.
Eliza goes through a similar problem, except her dilemna is much less a controlled choice. Eliza wants Higgins to just cave in and say he wants her. That's why she puts up with all of his slanderous insaults, and disregard of her accomplishments.
In conclusion, I think both of the characters left the situation disatisfied but not surprised, but due to the unforgetable nature of their encounters together. I don't think they'll forget about each other anytime soon, though I also highly doubt they could of ever been together.