Gillian Lynne

 Gillian Lynne 

Gillian Lynne es una niña de siete años y no puede sentarse en la escuela. Se levanta continuamente, se distrae, vuela con los pensamientos y no sigue las lecciones. Sus profesores se preocupan, la castigan, la regañan, premian las pocas veces que está atenta pero nada, Gillian no sabe sentarse y no puede estar atenta. Cuando llega a casa, mamá también la castiga. Mamá piensa que no puede fingir nada ante el comportamiento de la niña. Así que Gillian no sólo toma malas notas y castigo en la escuela, sino que también los toma en casa, como si no fuera ya un castigo y una humillación el maltrato y los gritos ante todos los compañeros.

Un día la madre de Gillian es llamada a la escuela. La señora, triste como quien espera malas noticias, toma a la niña de la mano y se va a la escuela, en la sala de entrevistas. Los profesores hablan de enfermedad, de un trastorno evidente de la niña. Todavía no hay hiperactividad, o tal vez alguien le daría un medicamento a la pequeña Gillian. Durante la entrevista llega un viejo profesor que conoce a la niña y su historia. Pide a todos los adultos, madre y colegas, que lo sigan a una habitación contigua desde donde todavía se puede ver a la niña. Al irse le dice a la niña que tenga un poco de paciencia que volverán enseguida y le enciende una vieja radio con música de fondo. Como la niña se encuentra sola en la habitación inmediatamente se levanta y comienza a moverse hacia arriba y abajo persiguiendo con los pies y el corazón la música en el aire. El viejo profesor sonríe y mientras los colegas y la madre lo miran entre confundidos y compasivos, como a menudo se hace con los viejos, él grita:

"Ven a Gillian, no está enferma, Gillian es bailarina!".

Le recomienda a la madre que la lleve a una clase de baile y a sus colegas que la hagan bailar de vez en cuando.

La niña sigue su primera lección y cuando llega a casa a mamá solo dice: " todos son como yo, allí nadie puede sentarse!"

En 1981, después de una hermosa carrera de bailarina, después de abrir su propia academia de baile, después de recibir reconocimientos internacionales por su arte Gillian Lynne será la coreógrafa del musical Cats.

𝗨𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝗼 𝗮 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗼𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝘀 𝗻𝗶ñ𝗼𝘀 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝘀

Deseando que encuentren en su camino a los adultos capaces de acogerlos por lo que son y no por lo que les falta.

Tomado de la red......

LA HORA DEL CUENTO (Storytime)

Here's a little playlist where I tell favourite stories in Spanish, using my own words and the illustrations from storybooks. I began with Lily White and Rose Red, followed by The Snow Queen... and wound up telling three tragedies by Shakespeare, the first half of Les Misérables (until Cosette goes to school in the nunnery where her guardian Valjean becomes gardener), and some Slavic tales. Some of the stories --like Othello, Les Mis, Cats...-- contain my own translations of songs from their musical adaptations.

THE JELLICLE CODE

PS. The following are my own esoteric interpretations. Nothing more and nothing less.
https://gutenberg.ca/ebooks/eliotts-practicalcats/eliotts-practicalcats-01-h.html
https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/c16b/4ac78384e968d8b70e7b2ff49d3d9ba8580f.pdf
and more chakra symbolism http://philosopherswheel.com/toccata.htm



THE JELLICLE CODE - my own personal interpretation of the musical Cats

I. Jellicles as Archetypes of the Collective Unconscious
II. The Triform Naming of Jellicle Cats
III. Jenny Anydots - the Caregiver
IV. The Rum Tum Tugger - Adolescent Subversion
Grizabella Interlude I - the Plight of the Traitor/Outsider
V. Bustopher Jones - the Authority Figure
VI. Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer - Young Adult Subversion
VII. Old Deuteronomy - the Hierophant
Grizabella Interlude II: Mournful Memory
VIII. Asparagus - the Piscean Paradigm
Interlude on the Fiend of the Fell and Growltiger/Griddlebone
IX. Skimbleshanks - the Aquarian Paradigm
The Mystery of Life, Death, and Rebirth I: MacCavity, the Dark Lord
The Mystery of Life, Death, and Rebirth II: Mr. Mistoffeles, the Lightbringer
The Mystery of Life, Death, and Rebirth III: Hopeful Memory
The Mystery of Life, Death, and Rebirth IV: The Jellicle Choice
X. The Ad-Dressing of Cats





I. Jellicles as Archetypes of the Collective Unconscious
"jellicle": dear little + jewel (hara/3rd chakra - precious gemstone - navel jewels in Steven Universe and Trollz) + miracle
allegorical, metaphorical, mystical, magical -- the jellicles are fey cats/cait sith: extended lifespan, sapiency, supernatural powers (revealed later on as the story unfurls)
unity in diversity (of ages, ranks, genders, personalities/philosophies)
supermoon - lunacy - as the time of their rendezvous; later on we'll talk about Arcanus XVIII but for now let's focus on the supermoon as a lunar phase
the jellicle choice - arcanus XXI - judgement as resurrection/catharsis

the heaviside layer is enlightenment, of course

*

II. The Triform Naming of Jellicle Cats
3 as a magic number - trinities

• name bestowed by human people (there are namesakes)
• name bestowed by other jellicle cats (unique special snowflake; the same name can't be used by more than one individual)
• secret name (completely confidential; compare the power of names in straw-into-gold fairytales and egyptian myth)

analogy of the tripartite psyche: gut/heart/head or id/ego/superego --

id/gut: secret name (the part of the iceberg that is underwater - the unconscious, individual and collective)
ego/heart: jellicle name
superego/head: human name (bestowed by established society)

**


III. Jenny Anydots - the Caregiver
third musical number, analogous to arcanus III and the caregiver/mother nature archetype

jenny: spinning wheel, used to make one's own clothes - she teaches her pupils music, crochet, and tatting
dots/spots on her back and name echo seeds (it. / fr. Jenny Touteàpois)
raising small animals considered disturbances (vermin/pests), like beetles or rodents, to teach them life skills
young children as disturbances/vermin/pests need someone to raise them right
from disorderly louts to disciplined helpful bug scouts
epilogue: the beetle tattoo - "tatau" in pacific cultures


***

IV. The Rum Tum Tugger - Adolescent Subversion
the knights on tarot
a "curious beast", stubborn, whom the likes of Jenny Anydots cannot tame since he refuses
rhum - pirate poison (compare quaffing draft cream scene) - tum tugger echoes "tsuntsun" (compare es. "rontón terco", stubborn) doesn't care for a cuddle (ie sees affection/endearment as too "kiddie" or "sissy" like most bad boys and some bad girls do)
nothing he enjoys more than a horrible muddle
on the stage show - the Tugger's 4th wall breaks, taking up a girl from the audience to the stage to dance with her


****

Grizabella Interlude I - the Plight of the Traitor/Outsider
her coat is stained and the corners of her eyes are twitchy (tsurime)
loiters on the streets at night on her own, unwelcome by the jellicles since she went over to the enemy, who left her in turn
jellicles surprised that she's still alive - but the lonely life of sacrificed youth she leads is worse than death
arcanus XII, the Hanged One
 
characters who embody this arcanus in Persona - most importantly Chidori/Medea (persona named after archetypal fallen woman) - character arc if the choice in the game is having her survive her injuries/trauma
one needs to fall down to get back up again; no catharsis is possible without previous catastrophe

+

V. Bustopher Jones - the Authority Figure
young rebels like the Tugger need someone to show them the socially established way, for them to  look up to/protest against
analogous to arcanus IV and the authority/father state archetype

not skin and bones - physical and social weight (no pubs like the tugger: 8 or 9 gents' clubs; 9-Sagittarius-Jupiter, compare his spherical waistline)
eclectic food tastes - from curry (exotic, expensive) to cabbage and mutton (unexpected peasant fare) depending on his mood
putting on weight both for status and for a rainy day
fashion sense - tux, spats, gloves: fashion is not considered quite masculine, but closer to society than to nature, and meant to signify status
...

*****
VI. Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer - Young Adult Subversion
Mercury, Gemini, and arcanus VI

knockabout artistes among the jellicle cats, but terrorists to wealthy human people (the establishment); those who protest against/question authority
twin resemblance as the key to their ruse + playful incestuous subtext
Rumpleteazer: Rumplestiltskin (spinning straw into gold thread - secret name as key to him not taking royal baby away: analogy to Jellicles' secret names) + teaser (both playfully/prankster and erotically/twincest innuendo) / Mungojerry: mongoose/mango jelly?
connection between arcanus VI and XV (the siblings' arrival is heralded by an alarm of MacCavity, the first mention in fact)
...


******
VII. Old Deuteronomy - the Hierophant
gender "they" explained - Dame Judi Dench proves this archetype can also be female
lifespan of centuries - this character has lived since the ancien régime, which like their name provides a clue
wise old mentor in spiritual retirement (lives in the countryside away from London and only comes to town for the jellicle choice)
name taken from a patriarchal sacred text that is in some places too conservative (no crossdressing, no mixing of animal and plant fibers in the same garment...), mirrors the conservatism of Arcanus V

wise old mentor/elder kind of leader as hierophant, ie initiating priest/spiritualist


*******
Grizabella Interlude II: Mournful Memory
Mournful Memory - autumn leaves in the light of the Tarot Moon (Arcanus XVIII) - delusion and disenchantment unable to discern positivity -- baroque disenchantment in Andrew Marvell: the cramp of hope, joy's cheerful madness (mania), the pestilence of love does heat (febrile, septic infection) -- When you (psyche/kokoro) experience any hope, I (physical body/karada) am racked with cramp. If you experience love, I am fevered with the plague, or sepsis. If you experience joy, I feel madly elated, like in a manic episode. - even more painfully, Sir Edmund Arwaker compares eros love to a cancer affecting the heart, where kokoro and karada overlap in 4th chakra (Love's O'erspreading Cancer gnaws my Heart), a cancerous tumour which can reproduce through the system, and is chronic, unlike acute sepsis (heart cancer is a rarity, but it still can be a possibility scientifically and a powerful metaphor!) - and Cancer is ruled by the Moon - let's return to the Jellicle Moon but now in the light of the delusion of Arcanus XVIII

Deuteronomy's Experience - Moments of Happiness (Skimbleshanks tune, as foreshadowing, after "many generations")


The Innocent Child at Heart, Arcanus 0 - Send Her, Victoria, Happy and Glorious;
most powerful person in the 19th c, female (reclaiming the power of femininity) - also, name is an omen
white fur coat for purity
Victoria's innocence and lack of "beautiful ghosts", but her mixed yearning and fear thereof - the "riddle princess" stage with its fears/insecurities towards coming of age, social integration, commitment (compare Portia or the 4th Story of TSQ)

++

VIII. Asparagus - the Piscean Paradigm
Aspara-Gus (fr. End-Yves) named after nourishing yet underrated vegetable; thin as a rake - bohemian (compare Bustopher Jones); eats only what he needs to survive in the present
waning star ("once of the highest degree") - his star is waning - outdated paradigm

Interlude on the Fiend of the Fell and Growltiger/Griddlebone
epic villains (in Frye's mythos of summer) are also tragic heroes (in Frye's mythos of autumn) - two sides to every story
Fiend: demon/villain/enemy (se. fiende)
Fell: either fall/fell/fallen (in defeat) or mountains (se. fjäll; ie the higher the rise the harder the fall)
Growltiger the pirate captain: grow, glow, burning bright -- but missing an eye and an ear in fearful asymmetry
vendetta against Asians/Easterners
Griddlebone: no meat on that bone either (compare both Gus and Bustopher)
Is Grizabella Griddlebone? Identity Change Theory

********

IX. Skimbleshanks - the Aquarian Paradigm
last standalone musical number: jaunty, catchy, releases serotonin
Thespian Gus hands over the torch to Skimble, Nimble Nimbus - changing of the astrological age
Uranus and the Industrial Revolution
a quite Aquarian choice of name for the railway conductor in the English source text
trains in Discworld Raising Steam, embodying quintessence created artificially (harnessing all classical elements)
Telepathy and Glass-Green Eye Contact - first cat with more powers than physical prowess and extended lifespan to be mentioned; cold steel may have weakened his powers, but he supplements the telepathy he has left with people skills - "I know" as Aquarian motto
Guided by the North Star - arcanus XVII


supervises everyone of both the crew (from train driver to lowest guards) and passengers (first, second, and third class) without any regard for social rank, treating them equally, with those glass-green eyes (Aquarian correlation)
fresh and bright, with perhaps a drop of scotch / what he does at each station while passengers are unaware / help them to get out at the final station - character depth and more apt role model for this day and age


*********

The Mystery of Life, Death, and Rebirth I: MacCavity, the Dark Lord
one of the two most powerful jellicles when it comes to magic

Arcanus XV as Horned One or Dark Lord - similar figure is the Dragon or Serpent
Mac=son, Cavity=abyss/chasm - incarnation of primordial chaos (ginnungagap)
very very tall and thin - compare the Slenderman
Panderers (pimp and madame) as corruptors of innocence
The Griddlebone/Grizabella and Arcanus VI/XV Connections Confirmed

+++

The Mystery of Life, Death, and Rebirth II: Mr. Mistoffeles, the Lightbringer
the other of the two most powerful jellicles when it comes to magic
the mastery in Arcanus I and Mercury as Hermes Thrice-Blessed (recall the triple names of jellicles and three powers he seems to possess - sexual/gender fluidity, bilocation, and physical feats)

The Dignified Trickster - Loki (compare to Misto) as Positive Catalyst
stage illusionist as opposed to the more adult, corrupting pimp - conjuring and casting spells for entertaining and helping others
Mistoffeles - Mephisto - Lucifer - Lightbringer; compare the Huntsman (animal killer) freeing Red Riding Hood from the belly of the big bad wolf / or Set (usurper) freeing Ra from the belly of the Serpent

++++

The Mystery of Life, Death, and Rebirth III: Hopeful Memory
Consequence of Deuteronomy's Liberation
Grizabella Warmed by Victoria and Deuteronomy Sees the Light; Maiden, Mother, Crone - three generations
Soon it will be dawning - impending catharsis

+++++

The Mystery of Life, Death, and Rebirth IV: The Jellicle Choice
Arcanus XIII - Death as Transfiguration/Metamorphosis - segue from the Hopeful Memory above

Arcanus XXI - judgement as resurrection/catharsis

Grizabella/Griddlebone deserved attaining Enlightenment, ie the Heaviside Layer
fate of MacCavity in the musical: chaos/darkness can be defeated, but not destroyed


++++++

X. The Ad-Dressing of Cats
cats are more or less like people, so treat them like that, with gifts, endearment, earning their trust... - Golden Rule "love/treat the others like you love/treat yourself"
sunrise - crowning the magnum opus

THE SNOW QUEEN CAT (CATS AU)

All right, this is my first Cats AU, written for World Children's and YA Literature Day as a homage to Andersen - the source material for this retelling is the Snow Queen from the Usborne Andersen for a change - but also with some details from Old Possum's Book and the musical; the characters stay true to whom and what they are in the musical and the poems, but their roles adapt to those of their parts in the fairytale. I had the plot bunny since a month ago and now, since both Andersen and Old Possum are kidlit, it is finally time to release this fusion:

THE SNOW QUEEN CAT

A Jellicle Adventure in Seven Stories

Story the First - The First Time They Ever Heard of the Snow Queen

All right, let us begin, and, when this tale comes to an end, we shall know much more than we know already. The first time the two of them ever heard of the Snow Queen was around after the local production of the Nutcracker that winter when both of them were about to come of age. The waltz of the flowers and the Spanish dance had stood out for both theatre kittens, but it was the human ballerina who starred in that part of the snowflake waltz that really took their breath away.
Backstage there were a lot of stage props, and behind the little district theatre, in one of those vacant lots so hard to find in the cramped Soho, there was a little vacant lot full of wildflowers; a real little garden with a rose bush, tassel hyacinths, primroses, pansies, dandelions -- as lush as any village green, where Mistoffelees and Victoria play-fought, chased insects, and staged their little stories (both those they'd seen on the stage from behind and those they made up themselves) all springtime and summer long. There, they had been Bottom and Titania, Marius and Cosette, or even the sorcerer Quaxo and his ladylove Lily-la-Rose in the story Victoria herself had dreamed up. She was a cheerful and hyperactive white Bengal who loved to make up new games and tales full of adventure. He was a kind and friendly tux, always ready to help others, though reserved and shy, and always reluctant to fight.
In winter, however, it was far cozier to curl up in the warmth of the quinquet ghost-light, once the theatre was empty, and listen to the tales of their guardian Asparagus, or Gus for short, a rake-thin and shabby old thespian tomcat, about his glory days and the stellar parts he had played decades ago, as well as the plots of the shows he had starred in. It was thanks to the old theatre cat taking both orphans in that they learned to dream, to imagine, to think up other realities. And on that December night, when they were praising the human Snow Queen ballerina, he worriedly told them that there was a real Snow Queen Cat out there, in an icy fortelesque palace far to the north. "She can fly, for of course she is a Jellicle like we are, but immensely more powerful, being far more in touch with nature than we Londoners have ever been." He necked down another sip of gin before resuming. "In winter, she brings the cold down south, through woods and streets alike; she strokes the windowpanes with her cold whiskers and the glass is soon blooming with frost flowers." The windows of the Egyptian Theatre were frosted in that very evening, and thus the kittens supposed that a real Snow Queen, a Jellicle cat like they were, existed. "If she could always have her way, she would freeze everything to ice... even your warm hearts," he put the gin bottle to his lips once more, looking worried at both youngsters.
"Let her try if she dares!" Misto defiantly challenged her, in a fit of unlikely pluck, though at heart he was exceedingly frightened,
"Worry not, my lad," Gus reassured him in a far more slurred tone. "She is only able to conquer your heart if you allow her."
That very same night, when Mistoffelees retired to his nestlike bed of old theatre curtains, a gentle winter snow began to sift down, and the tux kitten peered through a frosted window, to watch the flakes fall. All of a sudden, the flakes began to merge and take the shape of a beautiful adult queen-cat, who appeared to be of ice, with frost for fur and icy blue chips of ice for eyes, head decked with a crown of icicles; far whiter and far colder than Victoria. She gazed down at Misto with a piercing blue look.
The Snow Queen! he thought as he stared back in awe. With eager haste, he flung the skylight window wide open, letting in a gale as cutting as a blade.
The Snow Queen reached out a paw and stroked Mistoffelees' incipient whiskers. An icy shudder, or shiver, ran down his spine. Without breathing a word, the winter cat disappeared becoming a whirl of dazzling snowflakes once more. All he could do was stare back as he swaddled himself in the curtain covers once more.
Misto never told his female friend that he had seen the Snow Queen that night. He even came to think that it had all been just a dream. Winter passed by, and he gradually forgot her. Springtime came, the roses bloomed, the pansies and primroses shot up, and the two kittens began to play as usual in the theatre backlot.


Story the Second - Estrangement Leading to a Wintry Enticement

However, Mistoffelees was no longer his former self. He no longer enjoyed the warm sun and wished for winter to return once more. He also had a change of heart for something completely different, and for each and every day he became colder, more aloof, more detached.
One day, when they were chasing white cabbage butterflies, Misto suddenly winced in pain: "Ow, my eyes!" Then, he stopped and put his right paw to his chest, left paw hanging slack by his side, breathing heavily in more intense pain: "In... my... chest... don't know... what I've... got..."
"Misto! MISTO! What's going on with you?" Victoria asked him with utmost concern. She came closer and peered into his clear blue eyes, but saw nothing strange; his breathing had also returned to normal.
What had happened was that, when Mistoffelees had opened the window to see the Snow Queen from up closer, tiny shards of ice from her whiskers had lodged in his eye lenses, and he had breathed in a third one, that had entered his heart. The magical ice was increasing more and more in power. The shards in the eyes were already warping everything he saw for the worse; the one in his heart was freezing and hardening it, without any cure.
"Twattery to chase such creepy bugs, isn't it?" he grumbled, sauntering back into the theatre.
"Let's ask good old Gus to tell us a Shakespeare story instead," Victoria chimed in.
"Bo-ring!" Misto replied. "I don't want to see you again. I'm going out on the town, for a drink or two with some real tomcats!"
Victoria was so stunned that she couldn't find the right words. She just stood there stunned, staring with wide honey eyes at Misto climb up the fence of the backlot. He was no longer the kitten that she knew.
Spring and summer went by, autumn as well, and winter came once more, but Mistoffelees remained discontented. He had become more aloof and rude than ever, and nothing could now make him happy.
One day, when he left the local pub reeling and about to collapse, a large white sleigh pulled by winged reindeer appeared. It was the Snow Queen herself, as both driver and passenger. The queen smiled upon seeing the little one and her eyes shone icy blue. Misto was out of his wits.
Sobering up and mustering all his strength, he ran in pursuit of the sleigh until it finally stopped. The Snow Queen flicked a paw at him and told him: "Come with me..."
The young tux leapt up into the sleigh, without thinking twice. The Snow Queen wrapped an arm lined with frosty fur coat around his shoulders, and Misto felt as if he were sinking into a snowdrift. Then, the queen kissed him on the lips, and the inside of his chest froze completely. Her second kiss completely froze the skin under his shorthair coat; Misto was left unable to feel anything, and he forgot everything he had been through, his mind a blank slate.
The sleigh left London town avoiding railway tracks, leaving a trail of powdered snow. The older Jellicle toms at the pub kept on drinking and playing darts, as if they had never noticed anything strange.
Seeing that Misto had not come home yet, little Victoria asked the patrons at the pub if they had seen him, but not one of them was able to recall anything.
Oh, dear, Victoria thought. He liked to hang out on the banks of the Thames. Hope he hasn't frozen to death in a watery grave...
Victoria and her thespian guardian spent winter weeks without end, mourning the poor lost tux kitten.


Story the Third - A Whimsical Teacher and her Society Fiancé

Springtime came and no Mistoffelees was to be seen. Victoria looked through the window out into the green flowering backlot and missed him very much.
Everyone else thought that Misto had fallen into the icy Thames and frozen to death, but Victoria, in the bottom of her heart, knew that he was still alive somewhere. She could hear his voice, or at least hear him purr, from the theatre roof above, all winter and springtime long. One day, when the swallows had returned, she went out for a walk about the riverbank. She hopped onto a small empty coracle that was moored on the bank, when... suddenly the rope mooring slipped and the current carried the rowboat further downstream.
"Oh, Father Thames, are you taking me to see Misto?" Victoria asked.
The Thames didn't bother to ask her and took Victoria further away, through vast flowerbeds and lush forested English gardens, further away than she had ever travelled before.
At the end, she came to a bend of the river, where there was a little flowering country garden in front of a quaint thatched cottage, in the middle of a blossoming cherry orchard. The coracle approached the riverbank, and Victoria hopped onto the shore. She was still without knowing where to find Mistoffelees when she suddenly crossed paths with a large green jewel beetle bombinating right in front of her.
"Buzz, buzz," the bug hummed.
"Good morning to you, Sir Beetle," Victoria politely replied.
To her astonishment, her new six-footed acquaintance began to speak in her language. "Since it appears that you can't speak Bugspeak, I'll try to speak Jellicle instead, like you do. Anyway, whither are you heading, so alone in this whole wide world?"
Victoria told her whole tale, from the stage props at the Egyptian Theatre and the primroses in its backlot to her search for young Mistoffelees. She also told him of that she had to make haste in order to find her missing friend.
The beetle cocked an antenna. "You Jellicle cats are all equal, but it is possible that I might have seen your friend. You see, I learned your language and many a useful fact and skill in a grand mansion, not far from here, along with many other rodents and insects in this district as fellow students. Our teacher, a Jellicle tabby queen-cat, was however worn-out by giving lecture after lecture on military drilling, sailor knots, music, crochet, tatting... so to find some respite she looked for a husband; yet all the toms she had met were good-looking but empty-headed, until one day a dapper young tux from another district stepped into her classroom, intrigued by her new style of bloodless pest control. He wore white spats, was cocky but nevertheless bright and well-read and knew the finer things in life, and the teacher fell head over heels for him! Now she lives part-time with him at the same gentry's clubs..."
"It could be Misto!" Victoria squealed with elation. "He wears white spats and he's very clever and knows a lot about the performing arts! Couldn't you please take me to the club?"
The jewel beetle kept on showing her the way through the forest-like English garden, until they reached a cobbled street of white neoclassical townhouses that looked like temples for gods.
The green bug approached a pedimented threshold with a loud buzz and a pair of cockroaches came out the front entrance to receive them. All three kept on buzzing for a while first; then the jewel beetle turned to Victoria to explain the situation to her:
"You won't be allowed through the front gate of the club the way you are," the green beetle commented at last. "Only aristocats are allowed to enter. But I can take you to see this tux."
Night fell, and all the windows on the street and in the whole district were lit up; the sound of dancing streamed in through the windows as waltzes, gavottes, csárdás... The jewel beetle flew over the garden wall, while Victoria found a hole wide enough to crawl through it. They kept on waiting in the shade of hydrangeas, listening to the dance tunes, until the lights were put out one after the other, and then the beetle buzzed: "Follow me!"
They entered the club through the kitchen door. With catlike tread, never better said, they kept on climbing, in the dark, up stairs that led to a hall carpeted in red velvet. Victoria's bare cold paws were thankful for how warm and fuzzy the carpets were.
The beetle showed Victoria to a carved mahogany door. Upon opening it, they saw a drawing room lined with portraits of Jellicle cats in cavalier and eighteenth-century clothes, with a large chaise-longue in the middle. With their backs turned to the white kitten and her bug friend, there sat on the chaise-longue two Jellicles; a ginger tabby, doubtless the teacher, and a tux whose head was hidden by her arm, in her embrace.
Without thinking twice, Victoria approached and prepared to lay a paw on his shoulder. "Misto? Mistoffelees? It's me, Victoria," she whispered close to his ear.
The tux tomcat bounded up, astounded, and looked at Victoria without understanding a thing. "Victoria? Who are you?" he asked.
Victoria could not restrain a stifled sob. This tomcat was not Misto, but an older perfect stranger, his whiskers waxed on point, his ribcage remarkably stouter, his waistline remarkably rounder.
"Pardon me very much indeed. I was convinced you were someone else..." she said, looking down.
The chubby tabby teacher was equally surprised. "Whom are you looking for?" she asked. "Maybe we can help."
Victoria told the newlyweds her whole tale, from the stage props at the Egyptian Theatre and the primroses in its backlot to her search for young Mistoffelees; and also how the jewel beetle had helped her.
Jenny Anydots, the tabby teacher, looked at the jewel beetle with warm golden eyes. "As a reward for helping this young kitten," she said, "you will get promoted to Lieutenant Colonel of our Beetle Tattoo for the rest of your lifetime."
"Buzz!" the green beetle buzzed most contentedly.
Then, Jenny Anydots addressed Victoria:
"Tomorrow morning you will be escorted to King's Cross; we will put at our disposition a railway ticket for the Northern Mail train with the best service on board and a charming Jellicle conductor of my close acquaintance. We hope that this will make your search far easier."
Victoria was beside herself with elation and she didn't know how to thank or repay that much kindness.
The next morning, after a full English breakfast, her generous hosts showed her the way to the station, Victoria swaddled in a warm velvet cape lined with otter fur. Jenny Anydots and Bustopher Jones themselves helped her into the railway carriage, taking her leave of her, but before the train left there was a little delay all over the track: "Where is Skimble? Where is Skimble?"
In the end, a slender Jellicle tomcat with waxed curly whiskers, a ginger tabby wearing a conductor's flat cap and waistcoat, appeared like out of the blue and sauntered into the carriage. He and Jenny were elated to see each other, and, along with the leave-taking, Victoria was introduced by the female tabby to the one into whose care the trip up north, and Victoria's own safety, would proceed. Skimbleshanks was, indeed, as charming at first impression as Jenny Anydots had said, and he proved so dutiful that there was no better Jellicle train conductor to entrust any passengers or staff on board to.
Whistles blew and signal flags waved. As the train left the station and Victoria kept on waving Jenny and Bustopher goodbye, the lieutenant colonel beetle accompanied her on board the railway carriage for a long while, very often perched on Skimble's cap or on his shoulder. Then, when the train entered the northern region full of redbrick towns and sooty industrial mills, the jewel-like bug had flown out of sight.


Story the Fourth - The Attack on the Railway Train and its Aftermath

The steam train glistened among the shadows of the sooty factories, its whistle piercing the foggy northern air. It drew so much attention that, no sooner than it had entered the mills, some robber Jellicles leapt onto the rails and latched onto the carriages.
"This train is ours! Off with the driver, and the guards, but first of all with the conductor!" commanded in a cockney accent their leader, a dark ginger who was the tallest, thinnest tomcat Victoria or Skimbleshanks had ever seen, his right eye green as absinthe and his left eye icy blue.
"Macavity!" Skimble gasped, but no sooner had the name passed his lips that he was struck in the back of the head, knocked out like a light, and promptly paw-tied by twin young calicos.
"Now what are we going to do with li'l missy?" Macavity asked, peering into the other end of the railway carriage where Victoria was huddled, as the twin calicos led Skimbleshanks away.
A young dark tabby tom with a wild mane and frill of fur streaked in gold and black, and lustful golden eyes, now peered into the railway carriage as well and said: "I'll keep 'er as a mate!"
He opened wide the door to the railway carriage and forced Victoria to get out. Then, he tore the cloak from her shoulder and seized her at the wrist, pulling her forwards.
The gang returned as fast as they could, prisoners in tow, to their lair, a rundown and sooty steel mill half-claimed by the adjacent heather moors.
The Rum Tum Tugger, for that was how Victoria's captor styled himself, showed her around the dark corner that was his usual living quarters, when he wasn't out and about. Then, he leaned closer to a fenced patch of the very corner and produced poor Skimbleshanks, who was paw-tied to a ring on the wall with a sturdy rope.
"There you 'ave yer Skimble," he scoffed. "'E's tied up like this so 'e can't get out."
Victoria was lost in afterthought, wondering how the two of them would escape and make it back to the train on time, for the conductor knew the schedule of the Northern line by heart, professional trainspotter as he was.
Suddenly the Tugger cast a lustful look on Victoria and, producing long, sharp claw-nails from his left paw, he warned her:
"If you try to get out or free 'im, I scar that pretty face ov yours." Then he smiled. "Now tell me a tale. Make it a good one. If not, I may scar yer face..."
"Well, well, well," Victoria doubted. "The truth is that I don't know if this is a good tale, but it's a true story after all." Then, she told the Tugger her whole tale, from the stage props at the Egyptian Theatre and the primroses in its backlot to her search for young Mistoffelees; and also about the jewel beetle, the tabby teacher, and her aristocat husband who had helped her.
All of a sudden, she heard a faint wince and a familiar tenor voice at the nape of her neck: Skimbleshanks was coming to. The twin calicos had, in the meantime, climbed up to the rafters and were also chatting:
"I've seen that young tux she spoke ov, 'Teazer. Wosn't he with de Snow Queen? But I don't know where they went."
The twin sister replied to her brother with a lilting laugh:
"Iknow where. This Snow Queen lives up north in the icy Far North, 'Jerrie, 'aven't you forgott'n?"
"SHUDDUP!" the Tugger suddenly yelled, so loudly that it frightened them all. After looking at Skimble and Victoria for a while, he suddenly said: "Yer tale woz a luvly one. And the twins seemed ready to 'elp; guess I must do the same as well..." He untied Skimbleshanks and asked him: "D'ya know de way to de Far North, Mr. Conducter?"
The conductor looked back at the young brigand with piercing green eyes, then nodded solemnly.
"Well, then get li'l Vic 'ere on the train and take 'er there till she finds 'er friend," the Tugger said. "Quick, 'fore I get a change o' heart!"
Then, when the next Northern Mail train was about to arrive, he escorted Victoria (whom he had already untied) and Skimble to the railway tracks, helped them to get on board the train, and gave them a pair of red herring kippers. "Wish you could find 'im," the Tugger brusquely said.
"Thanks..." Victoria replied. Without further delay and with a shrill whistle, the train picked up steam and kept on rolling northwards.


Story the Fifth - The Wise Old Matriarch in the Far North

For each and every hour, they were heading further and further up north, past Hadrian's Wall, past the heather moors, further up north where the ravens croaked and the gale slashed their faces through fur and skin. Suddenly, they saw mysterious emerald, coral, golden lights streaking the night sky.
"The aurora, or northern lights," Skimbleshanks told Victoria over their cups of tea laced with Scotch; "this means that we are about to reach the final station."
As Skimble helped her to get out of the train there at the little isolated railway station, the air was icy crisp and even brittle. Now there was nothing but an endless white wasteland in sight. After a short stop to share their now rock-hard kippers, they kept on trudging through snow and frost. Victoria was numb with cold, leaning on Skimble's back for warmth and support, clinging to his waistcoat with frozen paws for dear life.
In the end they reached a little cave, similar to a rabbit hole. Skimbleshanks waved a numb paw in front of the round entrance and a very old queen cat with a thick grey fur coat let them in, bowing low.
Inside the cozy den that had once been a rabbit-hole, a tea kettle whistled cheerily. Old Deuteronomy, the dowager matriarch most Jellicles revered as a living goddess for having lived nearly over a century and being their common ancestor, poured out cups of hot tea for both young cats to warm their paws and, as all three of them sipped, Skimbleshanks kept on telling the whole story.
"I know you are as wise as you are old, my lady," the conductor said in a velvety voice. "You have lived all the way since before the French Revolution, outlived ninety-nine husbands through the ages, and we your numerous progeny still thrive across this United Kingdom. Thus, would it matter to help this poor, lonely little thing?"
"But how?" old Deuteronomy asked.
"You could cast a spell that gives her the strength of twelve sabertooth tigers," Skimble suggested. "Thus, she could have a chance to defeat the Snow Queen."
The matriarch slowly shook her heavy head. "Twelve sabertooth tigers would not be able to defeat the Snow Queen, but this sweet little kitten can, just the way she is. Have you not realised what immense power she has? Beetles speak to her, high society welcomes her, even outlaws step in to help her. Her power is in her warm and noble heart, and, as long as she has that, no one will be able to conquer her."
Then, she told Skimbleshanks to escort Victoria further up north, where the barren frost-garden of the Snow Queen grew, and then leave her there and return to Deuteronomy's rabbit hole.
"But then... she will freeze to..." Skimble's words caught in his throat.
Victoria patted him on the back. "At least I will try."
And, having said those words, she took the conductor by the paw and left.
The walls of the Snow Queen's garden were made of enormous blocks of blue ice. In that yard, nothing green ever grew, and it was snowing so heavily that there scarcely was any air to breathe in between snowflakes.
Victoria put her paws on Skimble's waist, in a reassuring embrace, and told him:
"Dear Skimbleshanks, hope we can see one another quite soon. Now, I must go save Mistoffelees."
Turning around, Victoria eagerly scaled the ice wall and entered the frozen garden.
At first, she saw nothing but snowflakes, each one larger than the previous. Then she realised that those flakes moved by themselves and tried to surround her with enormous swirls that took the forms of terrible beasts. Some were huge polar bears of ice; others, many-headed glacial serpents that could freeze the blood in the veins of the stoutest warrior.
"Please spare... my life..." a frightened Victoria pleaded.
Suddenly, the little white puffs that her breath condensed into clouds began to drift towards the ice monsters, causing their fangs to drip liquid and making them retreat, for fear of warmth, while the young queen-cat kept on advancing, always at the verge of collapse.


Story the Sixth - What Happened at the Snow Queen's Palace

Victoria arrived at the imposing, fortelesque blue palace with icicle towers, and crossed the huge icy front doors. Inside, walls and floors and windows were all of polished blue ice, and the ceilings were decorated with huge chandeliers made from thousands of icicles, but there was no other decoration to be seen. Never had there been any amusements in there, not even a little tea party or game of cards, so stern and serious was the royal ruler of this domain.
Victoria crossed cold empty hall after cold empty hall, the inside of the austere keep seemingly endless, until she reached a vast throne room in whose centre there was an enormous frozen lake with a cracked surface. On an island in the centre of the frozen lake stood the throne of the Snow Queen.
The throne was empty because, luckily, the Queen was absent. Ere she left to bring the winter down south once more, she had given Mistoffelees a task to keep them busy. "Spell out the words for what you miss the most with the runes on these blocks of ice," thus was her command. "If you are able, you will be your own lord and master of yourself. You will be able to go wherever you please, and I will also give you an icicle crown and throne by my side."
Ever since, Misto had been pushing puzzle pieces of ice from one place to another across the throne room, trying to spell out those runes. But he was nearly unable to think free, and did not know how to do. When Victoria entered the great throne room, she found him sitting on a block of ice, apparently a footstool, on the feet of the throne, completely still and despondent.
Victoria let out a scream of elation upon seeing him: "Misto, I've found you! I'VE FOUND YOU!" she yelled, running towards him, a trail of blood on the frozen-lake floor in her wake.
But Mistoffelees did not pay the slightest attention. The power of the Snow Queen had frozen his heart through and through; he sat there with that fixed expression, casting doubt on all she had to say. The look in his eyes, as he stared at Victoria, was completely lost and emotionless.
She clasped him as tight as she could, pressing him to her chest with all her strength. "I have crossed the whole of this kingdom to take you home, Misto..." she said in a broken voice. "I love you more than anything else..."
All of a sudden, a tiny sparkle contrived to light up the young tux's eyes. Victoria kissed him, and her body warmth seeped into him, through fur and skin and flesh. Another kiss of hers and his mind was clear once more, his limbs once more able to perform their functions.
All of a sudden, Misto remembered everything and recognised his very best friend. "Vic... how could I forget you?" he muttered in the same broken tone.
With warmth coursing through his whole self, the crystals he had in his eye lenses dissolved at last. The love his heart felt was also able to thaw the ice that lined his hardened heart, now warm and soft and throbbing once more. Now Mistoffelees had really returned to his old self.
Misto gave Victoria the strongest of hugs, and she replied with an equal one. The two burst into laughter, full of elation. Their laughs echoed through the entire throne room and made a precious melody chime among the icicles on the chandeliers.
Then, all of a sudden, something very strange occurred. All the rune-written blocks of ice in the vast room began to move. They're spelling out something, both young Jellicle cats thought.
"I can't believe it..." Misto whispered upon seeing that the ice blocks spelled out the three words that gave him his freedom: TRUE FREE LOVE.
"Vic, I'm free!" he exclaimed.
"Then, what are we waiting for?" Victoria replied, getting up. "Let's go home! Quick!" The two friends scrambled to get out of the throne room.
Suddenly, an icy whisper left them paralysed. "Who goes there, as silent as a phantom in the night?"
said a mezzo voice, that advanced quickly through endless corridors just like a long-clawed paw of ice.
Dread overtook both young hearts as they saw the Snow Queen Cat herself approach. She was running through hall after hall with all her composed, enormous coldness.
"Return to the throne room," she coldly commanded, with a look in her eyes so cold that it burned through flesh and bone.
"Nevermore, Your Grace," Mistoffelees valiantly denied. "The blocks of ice have spelled out the words TRUE FREE LOVE. Head for the throne, Your Grace, and see it with your very own eyes. Your power can no longer retain me here."
"Still, there is a certain... quid pro quo to be made here," her voice, for the first time in forever, sounded surprisingly warm.
"And what would you want in exchange?" Victoria asked, fixing a curious, intrigued look on the queen.
"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown," the latter replied, taking off her crown of icicles and putting it on Victoria's head. "Now that you have passed my test of character, with flying colours, it is time for you to share this royal burden, of which you are more than worthy."
All Mistoffeles could do was stare in awe at his crowned kittenhood friend. There was a regal air about her, one that made even the old Snow Queen pale in comparison.
"Give me but a year and a day down south to take my leave of those I love," the new young Snow Queen Victoria bowed her head as she made her honest plea.
"Permission conceded," the reply sounded equally earnest and honourable.
Thanking the old Snow Queen for her kindness, both friends bowed low and crossed at last the palace gates. They passed by ferocious beasts that were melting into fountains and roaring to salute their new queen.
Now nothing could stop Mistoffelees or Victoria, except for her new-found royal duties.


Story the Seventh - Long Live Snow Queen Victoria

Within a blink of an eye, they were once more at old Deuteronomy's, where Skimbleshanks had been waiting for Victoria for a while. 
She and Misto told the whole story together, their cups of tea lending sparkle to their eyes and warmth to their faces. Then, Skimble showed the two youngsters the way to the little isolated station, and helped them to get on the train; all three began the journey back to London.
The train sped by so quickly that landscapes were blurred and the wheels hardly touched the rails. Little by little, white winter began disappearing from the countryside. Without stopping for an instant, they made it all the way to King's Cross, where they discovered they had picked up a stowaway, a fluffy yet fierce one whose disobliging ways were a matter of habit.
"'Ere you are, Mr. Mistoffelees, a fine fella to go gaddin' about!" the Tugger said as Skimbleshanks helped him to get out. "Wonder wot 'e's got that I've not, for Vic to go t' such lengths to find 'im at the ends ov the frickin' Earth!"
Once all three young Jellicles had gotten off the train, the time came for Victoria to thank the railway cat: "We know the way home from here... and, dear Skimble, you don't know how thankful we all three are for what you have done for us. Now the time has come for you to go home and be happy."
"Home is on the rails for yours truly; nevertheless I shall never forget any one of you," the conductor softly replied, lowering his head for the Tugger to take off his flat cap and mess with his head for a while.
At the end of the day, as the Tugger took to exploring the Soho all by himself, Gus the old thespian came out of the Egyptian Theatre to receive his adoptive grandchildren once more, unable to restrain his joy at seeing both of them safe and sound. "Now you are the ones who have stories to tell me!" he explained.
The two kittens had passed so much time away from home that springtime had returned, and they were now young adult cats. When Mistoffelees and Victoria climbed up to the skylight window, they watched their longed-for backlot and rose bush, which where now once more packed with flowers.
Of course that winter the old Snow Queen would come to fetch her successor, both Vic and Misto wistfully thought as they looked one another in the eye, honey locked with sapphire. Yet this was ages, worlds away, and, no matter the royal obligations that Snow Queen Victoria would have every winter in the tutelage of her predecessor, the two young lovers would still have one another, and a warm glorious springtime day, forever within their thoughts and their hearts.

***THE END***

SO - JELLICLE CATS SNOW QUEEN FUSION?

Universe is UK as we know it from Cats, all the jellicles as themselves - plot follows TSQ (without goblin mirror, Atamanov style): Mistoria, Tuggoria friendly, Skimbletugger?, Bustopher*Jenny --- the source will be from abridged fairytale retellings (Usborne's Andersen), but adding my own Lemony narration

The First Time They Ever Heard of the Snow Queen - Yule, the Egyptian Theatre, Soho
Estrangement Leading to a Wintry Enticement - Imbolc, the Egyptian Theatre, Soho
A Whimsical Teacher and her Society Fiancé - Ostara/Beltane, Soho/Chelsea/King's Cross
The Attack on the Railway Train and its Aftermath - Beltane/Samhain, industrial area near a Northern English provincial town
The Wise Old Matriarch in the Far North - Samhain, a rugged cape in the Highland moors
What Happened at the Snow Queen's Palace - Yule, the Palace of Blue Ice
Long Live Snow Queen Victoria - En Route Home

DRAMATIS PERSONAE (all jellicles and OCs as themselves, but filling the roles from the TSQ story)
Victoria as herself - in the role of Gerda
Mr. Mistoffeles as himself - in the role of Kai
Asparagus as himself - in the role of Bedstemor/Granny
The Snow Queen Cat (my OC)
Emerald Beetle (my OC) - in the role of both crows
Jenny Anydots - in the role of the Princess
Bustopher Jones - in the role of the Prince
Skimbleshanks - in the role of the coachman and of the reindeer (composite - he survives the attack and is taken prisoner, then escapes with Victoria)
Macavity - in the role of the head robber
Mungojerrie & Rumpleteazer - in the roles of twin robbers
The Rum Tum Tugger - in the role of the robber maiden (rule 63:d)
She!Deuteronomy - in the role of the Finnwoman

The first line of chapter 1 will be:
The first time the two of them ever heard of the Snow Queen was around after the local production of the Nutcracker that winter when both of them were about to come of age. 

REVIEW: CATS, FROM THE CREW OF LES MIS

Jellicle cats come out tonight  
jellicle cats come one come all 
the jellicle moon is shining bright 
jellicles come to the jellicle ball

With an all-star cast like its revolutionary prédecesseur, the mewsical of this winter season took us to the streets of interbellum London in the light of the supermoon that the Jellicle clan counts its rendezvous balls by. Unlike Les Mis or Beauty and the Beast, the source material for Cats is poetry instead of prose, so the lyrics were handed down to WestEnders on a platinum platter and all that was to do was compose the tunes, each one suited to the personality of the neko in question - thus, a cast of diverse personalities ensues, and all of these cats could have been people you may at least slightly know: the fallen woman who loiters leaning against a street lamp, the trickster twin siblings always up to their neck in shenanigans, the old thespian who now plays King Lear and such senex characters but lives on memories of his all-star lead roles (I felt that the song was every bit about Sir Ian McKellen as about his character Aspara-Gus!), the perfectionistic efficient train conductor who ensures that nothing on board goes off the rails, the wise old sage who is still alive as venerable head of a dynasty (again, the same song-performer analogy for Dame Judi Dench and old rule 63:d Deuteronomy), and so forth.

My first contact with Cats, long before the film, was as an adolescent during long road trips across Scandinavia with the recording cassette on. My paternal family of four had been to London town and seen the live show back when both dad and his bro were in their teens as well, and brought the cassette along to Sweden as a keepsake. So in the late 2000s (I think it was) I took it with me, chucked it in, and listened curiously:

There's a whisper down the line
at 11:39
when the Night Mail train's ready to depart
saying "SKIMBLE? WHERE IS SKIMBLE?"

...and the rest was history. I was there, thinking myself at the same King's Cross from which the steam-powered Hogwarts Express leaves and in the same age of steam locomotives, with all the staff combing the entire station until, finally,

At 11:42 
with the signal overdue 
and the passengers all frantic to a man...
That's when I would appear
and saunter to the rear:
I've been busy in the luggage van!
Then he gave one flash of his large green (actually "glass-green"; misheard lyric!) eyes
and the signal went "ALL CLEAR!"

Still today I have the song on the brain, especially since seeing the film, even though I'm a tad disappointed about those lyrics/poem lines that didn't make the cut into the screen version for want of time -- most relevantly, Skimble's drop of scotch and his rundown of the London-Glasgow line. The former verses show that there is more character depth to the ostensible perfectionistic control freak, ie that he can enjoy a drink - but not in excess, being well aware that he's an efficient train conductor on active duty:

In the watches of the night
I was always fresh and bright;
every now and then I had a cup of tea
with perhaps a drop of scotch
while I was keeping on the watch...

While the latter passage shows that he knows the railway line by heart --much like I know the Valencia-Castellón line from three or four university years of commuting-- (in fact, you can mark all the places mentioned in these lyrics/verses below on Google Earth - Gallowgate is Glasgow Railway Station - and follow a route from King's Cross in London to Gallowgate in Glasgow!), and not only more proofs of his efficiency, but also how much he cares about the train, staff, and passengers:

They were fast asleep at Crewe,
and so they never knew
that I was walking up and down the station...
they were sleeping all the while
I was busy at Carlisle
where I met the station master with ELATION!! (PS. Skimble taught me the word - anytime you read about anyone elated in my fics, you know whom to thank)
They might see me at Dumfries,
where I summoned the police
if there was anything they ought to know about...
When they got to Gallowgate
there they did not have to wait,
for SKIMBLESHANKS WOULD HELP THEM TO GET O-U-T!!!

So I was and am a bit cross that those lines in particular were not added to the film adaptation. They could at least have kept him sipping that cuppa laced with a drop of scotch (and, for an extra plus, maybe shown a map or route of the railway line as well, with Skimble-Steve pointing out each station as he sang what he does there?). Skimble-Steve tapdancing and twirling on the rail and wearing that conductor's uniform like a glove is all badass, but they could at least have iced the cake some more...

(To count a point of influence that has not to be forgotten in Dermarkian lore: In Les Mis/Wizarding World AU The Seed of the Hanged / El semen de los ahorcados, notably, Skimbleshanks is the conductor on the Hogwarts Express - as one out of several crossover cameos from author favourites - and plays a key role in some installments)

Sometimes all it takes at the start of these poems turned lyrics is an establishing character moment. In this jaunty number that is constantly allegro con brio due to its railway setting, Skimbleshanks is introduced as being slightly delayed due to overseeing the luggage - while this made the entire station despair in the meantime (even though it was less than a quarter of an hour). Jenny Anydots is phlegmatic by day because she teaches her vermin life skills in the nighttime, but at first she is introduced in diurnal mode, and even the tune changes in the stanza/day to refrain/night transition from lethargic adagio to allegro ma non troppo (not as jaunty as Skimble's but nevertheless action-packed), from lullaby to swing, to reflect this double life:

I have a gumbie cat in mind,
her name is Jenny Anydots;
the curtain cord she likes to wind
and tie it into sailor knots...
She sits upon a windowsill
or anywhere that's smooth and flat...
she sits and sits and sits and sits
and that's what makes a gumbie cat!

But when the day's hustle and bustle is done
then the gumbie cat's work is but hardly begun;
she thinks that the cockroaches need: Employment,
to prevent them from idle and wanton destroyment!

Similarly, the fashionable and obese aristocat Bustopher Jones is introduced with a classical-eighteenth-century-sounding moderato tune, that sounds like him striding with a slight wobble, and an understatement about his weight/waistline:

Bustopher Jones
is not skin and bones:
in fact he's remarkably
fat.
He doesn't haunt pubs,
he has eight or nine clubs,
for he's the St. James' Street Cat.

And so on for most of the general cast, with their appearance and their tunes, and even sound effects (the train whistles in the sleeping-car section of Skimbleshanks being the most obvious!), reflecting the personalities given in their respective poems/lyrics. The characterisations in the tunes and the settings, to fit the respective lyrics, give the diverse cast of Cats a Shakespearean air, true to the source poemary.

But it's the character arc of fallen woman Grizabella, not that different from Fantine, and her power ballad Memory that give the most psychological insight, both in the dark first installment and in the optimistic reprise:

(First Installment)

Every street lamp seems to beat
a fatalistic warning...
Someone mutters
in the street lamp gutters
and soon it will be morning!
Memory...
All alone in the moonlight
I can smile at the old days
I was beautiful then
I remember
the time I knew what happiness was...
Let the memory
live again!

(Optimistic Reprise)

The streetlamp dies,
another night is over,
another day is dawning!
Daylight...
I must wait for the sunrise
I must think of a new life
and I musn't give in!
When the dawn comes
tonight will be a memory too
And a new day
will begin...

There's a whole tragic-heroine-subversion character arc here; maybe for a Les Mis AU of Fantine's character arc where she makes it through consumption, marries Valjean, and all three live happily ever after, for these kindly adults raise Cosette together! It's like a brighter mirror image of the tragedy of Fantine, showing that there is hope and respite for the fallen women...

Notably, the film shows Aspara-Gus and Growltiger as distinct characters, unlike the stage version that presents us them on a show within the show, altering the original theatre cat's poem verse "I once played a tiger" to "I once played Growltiger" to segue into that premise. The film subverts this, showing Gus and Growltiger (originally the second lead character he played) as different cats who interact with one another... which raises the possibility of a biography à clef. On screen, the pirate captain kept all of MacCavity's prisoners on his boat in the middle of the Thames and was defeated by all their combined efforts, but it was 'Gus who gave the coup de grâce by forcing Growltiger to walk the plank and make his last splash with his best rendition of THE FIEND OF THE FELL!! (who is the title role of a show within a show in the film). I can picture myself the old thespian cat writing down his swan song for the stage in preparation for the next Jellicle Ball, in which he will star in Growltiger's Last Stand and will be the chosen one to ascend to the Heaviside Layer - thanks to an action-packed tragedy on the high seas about the romance between the fierce, infamous pirate captain Growltiger and his lovely ladylove Lady Griddlebone, one of MacCavity's perky female minions, who betrayed him to the enemy till he was forced to walk the plank.
Yasss, we're speaking of Gus penning a biography à clef just like in so many 1990s Recycled: The Series episodes with the biography à clef premise -- to give some examples: Hercules and the Trojan War, episode 26 with Helen being whisked away by the Trojan Academy students, Adonis sulking like Achilles, and even the gift horse, and Homerus as a news reporter covering the Greeks' rescue mission; the Little Mermaid's episode 22 Metal Fish, in which Hans Christian Andersen and his pet cat, on board the titular bathysphere, are saved from decompression/drowning and returned to terra firma by Ariel and friends; Tarzan and the Mysterious Visitor, episode 35 in which Edgar Rice Burroughs comes over from the US to Darkest Africa to investigate reported sightings of an ape-man for the press of his home country as well as inspiration for his adventure novels; and, going from Disney to anime, the Kaiketsu Zorro episode 36 ついにバレた！ゾロの正体!? / Tsuinibareta! Zorro no shōtai!?, in which a young Johnston McCulley, who went to boarding school in Barcelona together with Diego de la Vega, shows up at the latter's hometown looking for literary inspiration and finds himself roped into El Zorro's freedom fighting. Because the artist or author of the source material is well-known, someone decides to make a biographical work anyway and this leaves writers and producers scratching their heads how to make it work. And one way to do it is mix the artist's/author's life with their fiction. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote Detective Fiction, so have him investigate real murders and more or less play Sherlock Holmes, with a Watson and all. Here's Charles Dickens having a terrible childhood like Oliver Twist, leaving for London, having his pocket picked by the Artful Dodger, or an Expy of him, who makes Dickens think "I Should Write a Book About This. The Dark Tales series is a gothic take on the biography à clef, with E.A. Poe investigating the sinister, mysterious events allegedly based upon future Poe stories. Works using this trope vary from being sly and playful, to straight drama to outright MetaFiction. While examples of this trope do exist in earlier times, it certainly took off big time in the 20th Century, where psychology and other ideas made many people try and analyse works of art as an expression of the artist's personality. Biography à Clef more or less makes that subtext literal; in this premise, the real life of artists is presented with a key via their interactions with the inspirations for their fictional creations. Apparently, the Recycled: The Series premise always finds, if it's an animated adaptation of a film that is a literary adaptation in turn, the chance to squeeze the author in as a one-episode character of the week and have him interact with the cast of the show based upon his characters in a metafictional way. This is what a biography à clef is... and thus I picture myself, within film canon, Aspara-Gus in the title role in Growltiger's Last Stand, the final show and farewell to both life and the stage that he wrote inspired, like Cervantes, by his own experience in pirate captivity.

The main setting of the film is a little district theatre with a theme of Pharaonic Egypt going on and even called the Egyptian Theatre, both from outside and on the stage itself --the theme of sacred cats goes really well with the premise of the show--, though the characters change to some other places in London (Piccadilly Circus, King's Cross Station, Trafalgar Square, a gentlemen's club, the posh townhouse that 'Jerry and 'Teazer turn inside out...) as the story unfurls, cutting between settings as a way to establish the home/habitat of each and every individual.

Of course I was flabberghasted by the climax; catnip raining from the theatre ceiling from a moon stage prop, courtesy of MacCavity's perky female minions, including a prominent popstar of last decade - not even Gus and Skimble are immune to absorbing the drug and showing signs of effect, and thus Deuteronomy is quickly whisked away until Mr. Mistoffeles brings her, and all the other Jellicle prisoners, back - although he has little confidence in the reach of his powers and everyone who remains at the Egyptian has to sing Misto's theme to encourage him:

Oh! Well!
Never was there ever
a cat so clever 
as Magical Mr. Mistoffeles!

And the encouragement works, with surprise effects - I think Misto, like Elsa and the X-Men, has only got a case of adolescent power-controlling failure and has been repressing his supernatural abilities for too long - but unleashing them in a burst at the right hour comes in handy; time waits for no one, after all!
Speaking of Misto, he and Victoria look like the bride and groom on a western-style straight wedding cake (she is white and he's tux), and we got a lot of Mistoria (Mistoffeles*Victoria) moments that did not disappoint us... they're the closest thing to a canon couple we get in the cast of this film, actually. Victoria herself is the naïve newcomer to the Jellicle clan, the ingénue, our audience surrogate. Her friendship with the more experienced and jaded Grizabella is brilliant - the innocent adolescent and her broken, older counterpart are true foils that make each other shine even brighter when together.
We even learn Grizabella's backstory, something not expanded in the stage show, on the silver screen: she was seduced by the sinister pimp-looking master criminal MacCavity and left the Jellicle clan to become his partner in crime... but he left her for younger and perkier female minions, leaving her in the lurch to fend for herself on her own, with no humans to adopt her and the Jellicles rejecting her as a traitor. Read between the lines and you get an age-old story of female tragedy - think of Fantine, or of the French Lieutenant's Woman, in neko form.
Which makes the young and innocent Victoria's lilting sweet song to Grizabella, Beautiful Ghosts, even more cathartic and heartwarming; the innocent adolescent ingénue and her broken, older counterpart are true foils that make each other shine even brighter when together. Not an eye will be dry at the end of this song, that, just like its counterpart Memory, is guaranteed to tie your heartstrings into a knot:

All that I wanted 
was to be wanted;
too young to wander London streets alone and haunted...
Born into nothing, 
at least you had something...
something to cling to...
visions of dazzling rooms I'll never get let into...
And the memories were lost long ago,
but at least you have beautiful ghosts...

Victoria has always been a stray orphan - Grizabella has had a social life before her coat turn and the consequences thereof. She has the memories her younger counterpart has not, those "beautiful ghosts" - and thus, both female outsiders, in spite of their differences, admire what one another has.

SPOILERS AHEAD! Highlight for spoilers!
A lot of catharsis and excitement came during the epic finale in which MacCavity seized the ropes of the montgolfière that would carry Grizabella up to the Heaviside Layer and her future reincarnation... but his grip slipped and he fell stranded into the bicorn of Lord Nelson, on the topmost top of the column of Trafalgar Square, while all the Jellicles gathered at the foot of the column's majestic, massive lions as the sun gradually rose over everyone in the capital and the cast took its leave of us at dawn in chorus - just like in Les Misérables when TO-MO-RROW COMES!!! This was exactly the same breathtaking impression, only that the Jellicle clan sang a different coda line:

AND THAT'S HOW YOU AD-DRESS A CAT!!!