Disorder Ensues

Acts IV and V of Richard II are saturated with foreboding warnings. They are rich with imagery of disorder and chaos, which lead to the murder of Richard at the end of Act V. To begin, the Bishop of Carlisle states: “And, if you crown [Bolingbroke], let me prophesy/ The blood of English shall manure the ground,” as well as, “And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars/ Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound” (4.1.127-132). This is the ultimate image of society caving in on itself, literally falling to disgrace with noble British blood turning to manure on a once solid ground. It depicts family and countrymen at war with each other with nothing to unite them. It is utter chaos; it would confound the common people who have lived their lives guided by tradition –the tradition of the King’s divine right. The instability depicted in the Bishop’s warning prevails as the scene continues. In lines 176-179 Richard states, that he and Bolingbroke are like two buckets…“The emptier ever dancing in the air,/ the other down, unseen, full of water… Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.” Richard compares his and Bolingbroke’s desire for the crown to a well of water. Bolingbroke is the bucket that has risen, while Richard is the bucket sinking heavily toward the ground. However, despite the fact that Bolingbroke is mounted “up on high,” he is described as “The emptier ever dancing in the air,” which does not sound promising. He is empty –light-weight and dangling—as well as “dancing in the air” as if there is nothing to ground him; he could be knocked down at any moment. In both quotes, the English people's relationship with the physical land is deteriorating with manure and the image of the new king dangling up in the air, far from the land he rules over. These ominous quotes come right before the crown is handed over to Bolingbroke.

Once the crown is handed over, we begin to see disorder actually ensue. Richard breaks a mirror right after parting with the crown. The glass shatters violently as he no longer recognizes his face; he feels instability and disruption internally. This parallels the disruption of order in the nation. In Act V, Richard and the Queen are separated and the tradition of marriage violated. The Queen inquires: “Must we be divided? Must we part?” (5.1. 81) while Richard exclaims in anger at this violation. Immediately following, the Duke of York’s family is broken apart by disagreement about allegiance to the king. York, whose son has conspired to kill Bolingbroke, says, “Mine honor lives when his dishonor dies” (5.3.68); meanwhile, the Duchess of York pleads for her son's pardon. The scene is chaotic and the family burdened with dysfunction, no longer strong with loyalty and shared blood. York goes so far as to say, “Against them both my true joints bended be.” (5.3.96). A final piece of evidence for the disruption of order is the murder of Richard due to a convoluted exchange between Bolingbroke and a servant. Bolingbroke’s actions parallel those of Richard’s, and now we must question whether or not Bolingbroke was actually justified in taking the crown from a divinely chosen king. The disruption of order has begun on a small scale, within the royal family, but it's implied that it will spread throughout the nation with the new King’s immediate involvement in murder (whether it was his intention or not).

Richard & Water

I’m interested in the way Richard uses water images in his deposition towards the end of 4.1. First, from 172-179, Richard describes the “golden crown,” or the throne, as “like a deep well/That owes two buckets filling one another,/the emptier ever dancing in the air,/The other down, unseen, and full of water./That bucket down and full of tears am I,/Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.” This image took me by surprise—I assumed the “emptier ever dancing” bucket was supposed to be a representation of Richard, because he is losing his control and has nothing to keep him grounded. By my logic, Bolingbroke would be the full bucket, weighed down with the burden of being a king, and of being a part of Richard’s dubious legacy. Reversed, the way Richard intends it, the images do make sense—Bolingbroke now holds the highest rank possible in his country and has a great deal of freedom along with it (“the emptier ever dancing in the air,” again), and Richard is weighed down with disappointment, guilt, and any other emotions to which he ambiguously pretends.

To me, the two images are interchangeable. I think this is indicative of Richard’s ambiguous characterization. I should preface: I am pretty suspicious of Richard at this point (maybe because I’m looking for some excitement in this play!). Is he remorseful? Is he deceptive? The interchangeability, and I would argue, instability, of Richard’s language in this passage is open to interpretation. I have two guesses: his language is contrived, because his expression of emotion lacks truth or hides truth, or his language is the result of just not having a way with words.

Northumberland interrupts Richard’s speech three times, to ask him to read aloud the articles about his crimes. Richard responds with water images in lines 227-231, 233-236, and 247-252: (1) “…Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands,/Showing an outward pity, yet you Pilates/Have here delivered me to my sour cross,/And water cannot wash away your sin.” (2) “Mine eyes are full of tears; I cannot see./And yet salt water blinds them not so much/But they can see a sort of traitors here….” (3) “…But ‘tis usurped. Alack the heavy day,/That I have worn so many winters out/And know not now what name to call myself/O, that I were a mockery of snow,/Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke/To melt myself away in water-drops!...”

In these three passages, Richard is using water images to: compare the act of washing one’s hands to being a (his) traitor; describe the clarity with which he see his traitors despite his tears; and express a desire—that he be “a mockery of snow,” able to melt away. Richard is using water images rather arbitrarily in these passages, and they lack the emotive, sympathetic effect that Richard intends for them. Water can be used to paint Richard’s comrades in a poor light and to paint Richard in a sympathetic light. But since its meaning is inconsistent in these passages, the water image means nothing at all. Richard’s use of the water image is more important, because it is consistent with his character: he makes everything, even language, work for him—or, at least, he tries.

King of Discontent

In Act five, scene five, Richard II, imprisoned and no longer king, is alone onstage. His soliloquy in the beginning of the scene expresses his loneliness and his reflections on how he spent his life. The most important element of his reflection is his understanding of his own thoughts and his sense of self. He uses the term thought (or thoughts) is eight times in lines 1 to 66 alone. He describes the creation of his thoughts through his “brain” being “the female to [his] soul” which is “the father” (lines 6-7). His brain and soul mate and “beget/ A generation of still-breeding thoughts” and that “these same thoughts people” the world (lines 7-9). It is interesting that Richard II uses a metaphor of thoughts being birthed by his mind, because these thoughts become both his only heir and the only thing he leaves behind after death because Bolingbroke took his title, freedom, crown, and any chance of a legacy.

Richard II speech continues discussing thoughts, and the evils inherent in them. He explains that “no thought is contented” like that “the people of [the] world” are not content (lines 10-11). He also states that good thoughts, or “thoughts of things divine” are corrupted by “scruples” and contradict themselves (lines 12-13). Richard uses the discontent in the being of thoughts to introduce and explain the discontent within him. He describes himself as “sometimes…king,” then a “beggar,” and then “king’d again” (lines 32-36). All of this by means of his own brain and thoughts, and then he is finally “unking’d by Bolingbroke” (line 37). This way he is as confused and separated as his thoughts were earlier in the speech. After all of this, he declares himself to be “nothing,” and his discontent shall continue until man is capable of being content “with being nothing” (lines 38-41). The entire speech becomes a discussion of his grief at losing his crown, which made him everything he was. By being forced to give his crown away, Richard made himself nothing, which he cannot be content with. His own thoughts are at war with his pride, vanity, and idea of self because they point out what he has lost.

The music that Richard hears leads him into a discussion of keeping time, which is Richard’s way of coming to terms with the time he wasted while he was king, and now imprisoned, sees the time wasting him. After describing himself as a clock, depicts Bolingbroke as being the “Jack of the clock” which strikes his “heart, which is the bell,” and that Richard’s “time/ runs posting on in Bolingbroke’s proud joy” (line56-60). The metaphor of the clock and time reveal Richard’s understanding that he is subjected under Bolingbroke” This also, in the action of Bolingbroke striking Richard’s heart like a bell, shows that Richard is pained by Bolingbroke’s position over him.

Blood Versus Justice

In scene five, act three of Richard II we witness Bolingbroke, now King Henry, make his first difficult decision as King.

Prior to this scene, we learn than Aumerle, now named “Rutland” has committed a horrible crime. Aumerle’s father, the Duke of York, discovers a letter adorning Aumerle’s neck. Although Aumerle attempts to hid the note from his father, York eventually reads it. After retrieving the note, York learns that Aumerle is among a group of individuals who are planning the assassination of King Henry.

York’s reaction to Aumerle’s action struck me as very peculiar. As a present day reader, I would expect York’s loyalty to be to his son rather than to the King. However, we do not see this. York responds to the letter saying “Treason, foul treason! Villain, traitor, slave” (5.2 72). 

The Duke of York completely ignores the familial ties that he has to his son. This scene directly influences the argument of blood versus justice, and which is more important. It is clear that the Duke of York finds it more important to remain loyal to one’s leader, rather than one’s kin. These values completely contrast the values of the Duchess of York. She begs the Duke of York to not tell the King of Aumerle’s unlawful actions. The Duchess of York’s plea to maintain her son’s innocence can be seen when she says: “Why York, what whilt thou do?/ Will thou not hid the trespass of thine own?/ Have we more sons? Or are we like to have”? (5.2 88-90). 

It is obvious after reading this passage of what the Duchess of York palces importance on. Although she may have a great deal of admiration and respect for her leader, King Henry, it is clear that her loyalty belongs to her son. This idea of unconditional love for one’s child, regardless of their actions, greatly contradicts the opinion of the Duke of York. 

Regardless of the pleas of his wife, York decides to take immediate action and report Aumerle’s crime to the King at once. In order to attempt to save his life, both Aumerle and the Duchess of York flee to visit King Henry as well. It is here that the Duke of York begs King Henry to execute Aumerle for the crime of plotting the assassination of the King. At the same time, the Duchess of York is begging the King to spare her son’s life. Once again, the struggle between blood versus justice is clearly illustrated in this passage. Ultimately, King Henry chooses to spare Aumerle’s life, but decides the other individuals involved in the crime will be executed. This decision brings up the question, which is more important to King Henry, blood or justice? 

Divine Right in Act 4

In class, the idea of whether Bolingbroke breaks with divine right or if he is nobly protecting his country has been much discussed.  I think this is an interesting problem that the play presents so the reader is conflicted as to what side of the argument they find themselves on.  The last two acts of Richard II include support for Richard’s divine right to the throne.  Bolingbroke and his men are all traitors towards God according to supportive lines in the text.  In Act 4, the Bishop of Carlisle, a religious figure whom the audience can assume as a man of God, opposes Bolingbroke becoming King.  He knows, or has a vision, of the fateful events that are to come: “My lord of Hereford here, whom you call king,/ Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford’s king;/ And, if you crown him, let me prophesy/ The blood of English shall manure the ground,/ And future ages groan for this foul act”(4.1.125-129).  Shakespeare obviously knew of the Wars of the Roses and could write Carlisle as a sort of prophetic figure.  The reader sees a person associated with God foretelling negative events that the Kingship of Bolingbroke will arise.  This all stems from the Duke not following with England’s method of divine right. Richard II may not have been the best King for England, but according to the bishop, King Henry will not be any better for the country. 

                Shakespeare cleverly gives Richard lines that connect to Christ and his traitor/disciple Judas.  This religious subject would have been known to the majority of Shakespeare’s audience and is something that further conveys the severity of Bolingbroke’s usurpation.  Shakespeare essentially implies that, by knocking Richard off the throne, it is akin to Judas giving Jesus to the Romans.  The religious theme of divine right, something that Jesus epitomizes as he was sent from God to do a mission, is further supported by instances in the acts.  “Yet I well remember/ The favours of these men.  Were they not mine?/ Did they not sometime cry ‘All hail!’ to me?/ So Judas did to Christ.  But He in twelve/ Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, none” reveals how Richard associates Bolingbroke and his company as primary traitors to his divine kingship, just as the betrayal of Christ was a divine moment (4.1.158-162).  Another biblical association made by Richard occurs later in the same act.  He associates his usurpers to that of Pilate, the judge of Christ, who stated that he was not responsible for Christ’s death, even though he enabled it to occur.  That is exactly how Richard views his foes acting:  “Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands,/ Showing an outward pity, yet you Pilates/ Have here deliver me to my sour cross,/ And water cannot wash away your sin” (4.1.229-232).  Richard believes that something as sacred as divine right cannot merely be taken away and the opposition have their sins forgiven.  The severity of disorder in the customary, religious based practice of Kings is not a thing to be trifled with, according to the religious Carlisle and kingly Richard II. 

Finally a HAPPY woman in Richard II

While reading Richard II, it became evident to me that this was a male dominant play.  Unlike the last two plays we’d read, the women character’s appearances were few and far between.  In addition, when the women in this play were highlighted, they never accomplished their objectives or achieved what they set out for.    

For example, in 1.2, we meet our first female character, The Duchess of Gloucester.  In this scene she is trying to persuade John of Gaunt to avenge his brother’s death.  “In suff’ring thus thy brother to be slaughtered/Thou show’st the naked pathway to thy life,/Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee./That which in mean men we entitle patience/Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts./What shall I say? To safeguard thine own life/The best way is to venge my Gloucester’s death” (1.2.30-36) Clearly, she is going through great pains to gain justice for her murdered husband.  Despite her efforts, John of Gaunt refuses to help her in her quest for revenge.  Defeated, she leaves with these final words: “Desolate, Desolate will I hence and die./The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye” (1.2.73-74).  After her failed objective, The Duchess of Gloucester gives up on life and retires to die.

Similarly, Queen Isabel tragically does not obtain what she wishes for.  In 3.4, The Queen eneters the garden in an effort to cheer up and find peace of mind.  Despite her attendants’ efforts at distracting her, she cannot take her mind off of her woes.  Then, instead of finding a remedy, she overhears the fate of her husband, which sends her even further into despair: “What, was I born to this, that my sad look/Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?/Gard’ner, for telling me these news of woe,/Pray God the plants thou graft’st may never grow” (3.4.99-102).  In 5.1, The Queen suggests anything she can so that she and Richard can remain together.  This too, however, is to no avail.  Our last image of the Queen is a banished and devastated wife saying a final goodbye to her fallen husband.  Needless to say, things did not go according to her wishes.

Finally, in 5.2, we meet the one female in this play who valiantly succeeds in her mission: The Duchess of York.  After discovering that Aumerle is involved in an assassination plot against King Henry, Duke of York is adament about turning his son into the authorites.  Dutchess of York makes it her mission to do everything in her power to save her only son and bloodline.  In doing so, she abandons her husband’s side and, at one point, even orders her son to “Strike him [York]” (5.2.87).  At the end of the scene, she exclaims with extreme confidence: “Spur, post, and get before him to the King,/And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee./I’ll not be long behind—though I be old,/I doubt not but to ride as fast as York—/And never will I rise up from the ground/Till Bolingbroke have pardoned thee” (5.2.112-17).  When King Henry is confronted with both York and the Duchess, he is ultimately moved by The Duchess’ relentless pleads for her son’s pardon.  Her success in achieving her goal marks her as the only successful female in this play—a feat that I consider worth noting!     

Richard the Deposed Drama King?

            Act four is only comprised of one scene, and even though a few different things happen within this scene it is safe to say the most significant event is Richard’s resignation as king, and his crowning of Bolingbroke to rule in his place.  When Richard enters the scene he expresses a melancholy demeanor as he speaks of how short a time he has had to adapt to his transition from king to subject, stating “I hardly yet have learned / To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee” (4.1.155-56).  He insists that he should be given more time to deal with the sorrow he feels from falling from his position of absolute authority to a humbled state of submission.  When he questions why he has been brought before Bolingbroke York reminds him that it is his duty to perform the ceremony of crowning a new king.  Richard holds the crown in his hands and speaks to Bolingbroke with words of self-pity, describing how the crown is like a deep well.  As Bolingbroke’s bucket becomes “the emptier ever dancing in the air,” Richard’s bucket becomes “down, unseen, and full of tears” (4.1.176-77).  When Bolingbroke questions his willingness to resign Richard says that he is giving up his crown, but not his grief at losing it.  This back and forth exchange between Richard and Bolingbroke seems like an attempt to delay the inevitable, but finally Richard hands over the crown and his sceptre.  When Richard asks what more there is to do, Northumberland states that he must confess to the accusations and crimes he and his followers committed during his kingship.  Richard argues that he should not have to give a public reading of his acts of wrongdoing as it would shame him, and he is already feeling miserable about being deposed.  Northumberland insists upon reading them, to which the Richard replies “Mine eyes are full of tears; I cannot see,” (4.1.234).  Richard seems to play out his grief in an overly dramatic way that doesn’t seem to suit the proper demeanor of a king.  Richard becomes even more melodramatic as he comments on Northumberland referring to him as “lord” and exclaims that he is no lord of his, but furthermore that he is “no man’s lord” (4.1.245).  He no longer has a name or a title. 

            Richard’s request to have a mirror brought to him only emphasizes his over dramatic reaction to his resignation.  He looks at his image reflected in the glass and rambles on about how he cannot believe he had so quickly lost his royal authority and king status.  He looks at his face and recalls his glory days:

                        Was this face the face

                        That every day under his household roof

                        Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face

                        That like the sun did make beholders wink?

                        Is this the face which faced so many follies,

                        That was at last outfaced by Bolingbroke?

                        A brittle glory shineth in this face,

                        As brittle as the glory is the face.  (4.1.271-78)

Richard then shatters the glass, exclaiming how his deep sorrow destroyed his face.  Bolingbroke suggests that the darkness of his sorrow, not the sorrow itself, is behind the destruction of the resigned king’s face. 

            This entire moment within the scene may have been intended to make me feel compassion toward Richard, but in actuality it made me dislike him more.  His behavior was very unbecoming of someone who had once been a king, and yet can we even truly say he ever possessed the qualities of an honorable king?  His self-pity and overdramatic reaction to his grief over his resignation in this part of the scene make clear to us just how weak Richard was from the very beginning.  The truth is that the loss of power he laments for he never truly possessed.  The only type of king Richard can rightfully be called is a Drama King. 

                        

The Politics of Family

Shakespeare’s Richard II deals very much with the idea of family, more specifically—ancestral ties and their place in England at the time. To be of noble ancestry was to inherit power directly, and this power was often sought after. While family may affect the possibility of obtaining a noble title, its connection to power compromises the importance of family because there is a high chance that family members are pitted against one another.

Richard II himself is in the center of quite a few family affairs. He begins by organizing the death of his own uncle, the Duke of Gloucester. He then is involved with family when he must banish his own cousin Bolingbroke—the presence of a familial tie does make Richard lighten the sentence on his cousin and his cousin alone. Does he do this at the pleas of his cousin himself, or does Richard do this because he knows his uncle (the father of Bolingbroke) will die soon? Bolingbroke would rather duel Mowbray than accept the punishment of his cousin, who he knows will be influenced by their familial bond: “Pale trembling coward, / here I throw my gage, / Disclaiming here the kindred of the King, / And lay aside my high blood’s royalty, / Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to accept” (1.1 68-72). This is a sign of the importance of ancestry in society—it affects status and certain privileges; sometimes, a duel would actually be the best way to avoid the favoring of an individual because of family.

After Richard stops the duel and banishes both Bolingbroke and Mowbray, Bolingbroke’s banishment is reduced. He may be favored to this extent, but is still forbidden to return at his father’s death. Not only is it the emotional aspect of the death of Bolingbroke’s father is a factor, but Bolingbroke would receive the title of Duke of Lancaster—it is also a political matter. It affects John of Gaunt (Bolingbroke’s father) and Bolingbroke both emotionally and politically, and therefore, the familial conflict will be much stronger than a purely motional or a purely political matter. John of Gaunt goes as far as to accuse Richard’s banishment of Bolingbroke as a cause of his illness and death: “Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt./ The pleasure that some fathers feed upon/ Is my strict fast; I mean my children’s looks” (2.1 78-79). Richard’s lack of sympathy at John of Gaunt’s death shows the bad blood between family and its emphasis on politics in the nobility as opposed to familial love. Richard, therefore, should not be surprised when Bolingbroke returns to take his place in the nobility by force.

Bolingbroke and Richard’s uncle, the Duke of York, is reluctant to take the side of Bolingbroke in gaining his title because he knows there are political, not only familial, consequences. One of his nephews will triumph, and his best place is to be with the victor of the dispute. He says to Bolingbroke “It may well be I will go with you—but yet I’ll pause, / For I am loath to break our country’s laws. / Nor friends nor foes, to me welcome you are. / Things past redress are now with me past care” (2.3 167-170).

In Richard II, family is mixed with political dealings, and the drama is increased. Characters are torn between their family and their betterment in the nobility—these do not always coincide.

What's in a Name?

Let me just throw this out there: I am really bad with names. When I meet people, I focus more on waiting for them to finish speaking so that I can say “nice to meet you,” than listening to what they say their name is. Needless to say, this is something I really need to work on. Along with this terrible habit, I am also the worst at keeping characters’ names straight in plays such as this. Richard II poses and extremely difficult task for me: so many names, second names, nicknames, aliases, it seems, I feel like my head is going to explode. Not only are there several names, but so many names are alike or the same; there are two Thomas’, several Dukes, and some characters have titles attributed to them by where they live as well as where they govern. It makes following the story extremely difficult for me and turns into more of a project when I have to write down character names and create a sort of summary just so I avoid further confusion. I figured that maybe, for this blog post, I’d simply delve into the characters and plot in a way that hopefully can be commented on for accuracy. I hope someone is up for the challenge of reading this blabber…


I’ll begin with Richard. Richard II is the king who begins Act I Scene I attempting to settle an argument between two men. One of the men is Henry Bolingbroke, also known as the Duke of Herford. He is the son of John of Gaunt, who happens to be Richard’s uncle. This would make Bolingbroke Richard’s cousin. The other man is Thomas Mowbray, also known as the Duke of Norfolk. Bolingbroke is accusing Mowbray of several crimes, including participation in the murder of one of the king’s uncles, Thomas of Woodstock/ Duke of Gloucester. Mowbray denies these charges although, he does confess that he had once plotted to kill another of Richard’s uncles, John of Gaunt, without success. We are then introduced to John of Gaunt himself, as he and Richard attempt to make Mowbray and Bollingbroke settle their argument. John of Gaunt, as noted earlier, is Bolingbroke’s father. If I may go off on a tangent, this part confused me a bit- how can John of Gaunt try to stop Bollingbroke from fighting Mowbray when Mowbray just admitted that he was plotting to murder him? Wouldn’t John want Mowbray to be punished? Regardless of this issue, we’ve now got King Richard II, Henry Bolinbroke, John of Gaunt, and Thomas Mowbray. Richard is Bolingbroke’s cousin and John of Gaunt’s nephew. Thomas Mowbray, I believe, does not have any familiar relations to other characters at this point. I think…


Then we are introduced to the first female character, the Duchess of Gloucester, the widow of Thomas of Gloucester. Thomas of Gloucester is the deceased brother of John of Gaunt, uncle to both Bolingbroke and Richard. Thomas of Gloucester gives us the second Thomas to keep track of, although this should be easier since Mowbray is usually addressed as so. The Duchess also mentions another of Richard’s uncles, Edmund Duke of York.

In summation, Richard's uncles include Edmund, John, Thomas. The Duchess is Richard's aunt. Bolingbroke is Richard's cousin, and Mowbray has no relation to other characters.

Am I right? I hope I can keep this straight...

Class & Edmund

Class & Edmund
One similarity between Richard II, Henry V, and King Lear is that they each blur the lines between the classes. In Richard II the usurped King laments the fact that he has been deposed and in King Lear the banished king begins to recognize the validity of the lower classes’ experiences, as can be seen when he says “Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart that’s sorry yet for thee,” at 3.2.70. Each of these leaders have lost the power they once had and are betrayed by those who had once been their subjects, their subordinates. In doing so they become enlightened, in a sense, because their range of experience is made larger. With Henry V, however, there is no actual change in his knowledge because he has already been associating with the lower classes. When he rallies his followers together by calling them a “band of brothers” and elevates the peasants rankings by telling them all those who fight with him will be nobles, it does not cause a crisis in his identity as it does with Richard (“And now know not what to call myself”) and Lear (“Yet he hath ever but slenderly known himself). Richard and Lear’s experience of downward social mobility destroys them: neither knows how to operate unless they are king. Henry’s experimentation with it empowers him: he is the one who initiates the upward “advancement” of others (while Richard and Lear fall) and his blurring of class distinctions allows him more power while simultaneously exempting him from the consequences of having that power (“no more is the King guilty of their damnation than he was before guilty of those impieties for which they are now visited” at 4.1.162.)
The character I find most interesting in Lear is Edmund: he drives forward the entire subplot of the play through his sheer force of will, which is in contrast to Lear, who sets the events in the plot in motion, but subsequently loses all control, very unlike Edmund; his psychology seems to be a mixture of feeling inferior because he is an illegitimate child whose father has no legal obligations to him and feeling superior to all those around him because he is smarter than they are (he keeps on making fun of his father’s superstitions) and can easily manipulate them; he’s an excellent example of performativity (like Hal) in that he performs his roles of “good son” and “good brother” well; and he is very rational and practical, traits that seem to be missing from all the other characters in the play (save maybe Goneril.) What interests me most, though, is how he resembles Shakespeare’s other ‘characters of manipulation,’ the Duke in MfM and Hal in Henry IV. All three of them have a lack of power (the Duke can’t really run his dukedom efficiently and Hal is thought to be foolish) and sacrifice others (Edgar, Angelo, Hotspur &Falstaff) in order to gain in. I’m not sure how an actor would play him: I watched the Ian McKellan version of the play and was surprised at how the actor playing him delivered his speech at 1.2. In my mind he was brooding and vengeful, but the actor made him flippant, arrogant, and even playful. I’m not sure which one seems more honest to the overall tone of the play.

Henry? Is That You?

Before I begin, I just have to say that I've always been a fan of Kenneth Branagh and I look forward to really diving into his interpretation of Henry V (the character, mostly). I've always said that Shakespeare has reincarnated himself into three people of the twentieth century: Branagh, Laurence Olivier, and Orson Welles (that last one may be controversial). It's one thing to play Hamlet for a little while on stage or in a movie, but these men seemingly lived and breathed Shakespeare. Honestly, I love Branagh and am excited to see the film (I've only ever seen the St. Crispin's Day speech, which was gorgeous by itself). Now, onto the blogging.

I was rather shocked by this Harry when comparing him to the Prince Hal we came to know and love in 1 Henry IV. The speeches he gives are just gorgeous (did I say that already?), particularly the one he gives after fooling the soldiers and is left alone in IV.1 (which I saw as VERY reminiscent of, ironically, Richard II's speech when he was imprisoned in the castle) and, of course, the St. Crispin's Speech in IV.3. As I read these speeches (and felt an overwhelming sense of English pride, despite myself being both English and obviously French), I couldn't help but lose track of the character. Is this what a perfect redemption looks like? Was Harry really such a lovely and eloquent person underneath all of that debauchery? Is it even possible to make such a one-eighty and be the same person? I honestly find it hard to believe that this is the same Hal. I understand he's older and now he has quite a bit of responsibility on his hands, but it seems to me that Shakespeare has either overinflated the virtue of Harry as King, or exaggerated his vices as Prince. Then again, this could be all apart of Shakespeare's plan to show the "like father, like son" aspect of the Henrys. This shining individual that Harry has become shows his near-perfect acting ability he inherited from his father, who was also presented as a near-perfect individual. Henry IV's kindness towards peasants and support from the people disgusted Richard II, who, until his death, saw royalty as far above the common swill that was a subject. Harry, too gained support from the people by living with them in the taverns, while at the same time building up a rather sour reputation so he could prove himself by renouncing the tavern life upon becoming king. This way, Harry gains the support of the people as king tenfold when compared to his father. He even goes so far as to banish Falstaff, who dies of a broken heart. It's this conniving nature that runs through the Henrys, seen first in the father's outward desire to cleanse the land and help and love the people, then seen in the son's outward fall from grace and rise to redemption. Once again, the Henrys rely on their subjects being very stupid and it works for them.

Another part of this play that had me thrown off was the final scene between Harry and Catherine. Since when was this a love story? The whole scene felt like an afterthought. I will admit that Catherine's English lessons provided some foreshadowing, but it still seemed like a very strange scene to end the play with. Once again, here's Harry as the suave, pure man, sweeping Catherine off her feet. It's one of those moments when the character could just jump off the page and yell, "I'm acting!" but Harry's too good at what he does for that. This scene seems to be symbolic of unity of the two countries, expressed through the purity of love and marriage, but it almost creeps up on you at the end, especially since it comes after a rather ridiculous scene depicting three morons arguing over leeks (and the unfortunate death of Pistol's wife through syphilis, which is still a rather unsavory sentiment).

Of course, one must not overlook the humorous undertones of this scene. This reminds me of the scene between Mortimer and his wife in 1 Henry IV, in which neither one could understand the other. That scene was meant to show the foolishness of the rebels, but now this scene at the end of Henry V is very much in conflict with itself: Harry is pure, suave, and uniting the countries, but he's also trying to sweet-talk a woman that barely understands him. Was this scene purely meant for laughs so the play could end one a happy tone? Well, the epilogue certainly kills the mood with its foreboding message of the loss of a kingdom. Perhaps this comedic scene depiction of a language barrier is foreshadowing to Henry VI's loss of France: England and France cannot be together because they will never understand each other. Quite eloquent, if you ask me.

"If we are marked to die, we are enough to do our country loss; and if we live, the fewer men, the greater share of honor." -Henry V

-Sarah Bras

Progress and Cycles

Because both Richard II and Henry IV document and dramatize events in English history I found myself questioning whether the history that Shakespeare presents is progressive or cyclical. There is evidence to support both positions in each of the plays. The plot of Richard II is progressive in that the old is constantly being swapped for the new: Richard is the “old” king – he adheres strictly to the belief in divine right (which interestingly is in itself a kind of cycle) and thinks that his power is absolute, regardless of whether or not he is an effective ruler. Bolingbroke/Henry is the “new” king in that he understands that his power can depend on the will of the people (the “reverence” that he “throws away on slaves” in 1.4) as well as from inheritance; he is shrewd and manipulative (as can be seen from the way he tries to get Richard to give up his title so that his reign will seem more legitimate); and he is political in a way that Richard never was (Richard is kind of this traditional, monolithic entity while Henry brings in an opposition that never existed before, he brings in new subjectivities.) The characterizations, however, are cyclical: King Henry mimics King Richard in that he has someone who represents a political threat killed, and then banishes the man he had commit the murder. In Henry IV (so far) the plot is cyclical, with Northumberland and Hotspur trying to overthrow a King, just as Henry himself had done. The only (kind of) progressive thing I noticed was Henry’s desire to go to the “Holy Land” for war: it’s progressive in that he sees the war as an advancement, as something that will improve Christian life in general, as something that will move history forward.
The plays illustrate both positions, so I would have to say that Shakespeare doesn’t necessarily support either. I think that he presents history as something that is in constant flux, something that is a site of perpetual contention, with forces on a multiplicity of sides vying with one another to advance their own agendas. Most of the characters, (Richard vs. Henry, Henry vs. Hotspur, etc.) think that they are righting a wrong, that they are fighting for something that is better than what is present, but really they are too obtuse to see past their own objectives.

Richard vs. Bolingbroke

*This has probably been said before, but just as a forewarning, don't ever try to edit these posts in Microsoft Word first. The HTML won't let you post your blog until you go back and delete all the unnecessary formatting. It's extremely annoying.*

From the very beginnings of the play, it’s clear that tensions are high and not all is well in the world of Richard II. Subjects are feuding regularly, the king’s relatives are being mysteriously assassinated, and the king himself is as wishy-washy and vein as his kinsmen make him out to be behind his back (and in some cases, directly to his face). And in light of all this dysfunction, Shakespeare has included a character that initially seems to embody the ideal disposition of a successful monarch: Henry Bolingbroke. Bolingbroke is Richard’s cousin through his uncle, John of Gaunt, and though he’s not technically the heir to the throne of England, he is set to inherit much property and money upon his father’s death. Shakespeare juxtaposes these two characters in every way possible, through the eyes of the people, through exertions of power, and in conflict with each other.

In the first and second acts, we see many examples of the ways in which Richard rules over his kingdom. He goes back on his word, abuses his powers, and squanders much of the country’s money for his own gain. He also seems to have difficulty handling compromising situations without losing his temper. Moreover, in a familial sense, Richard barely acknowledges his relatives behind what he believes they can do for him. There is even significant implication that he may have been involved with the plot to murder his uncle, Thomas of Gloucester. Bolingbroke, on the other hand, is a much different yet equally complex character. He is well-known and respected by both the common people of England and the court (his family) alike; he seems to react well under pressure, and his abilities as a politician are unrivaled.

In Act I, Richard stops a duel between Bolingbroke and Thomas Mowbray, though he had previously given permission for it to occur. Here, in this very pivotal interaction between the cousins, Richard inadvertently sets the stage for the play’s main conflict. He goes back on his word, banishes his cousin, and in Bolingbroke, creates a clever enemy. Though we are not given any real evidence of where Bolingbroke’s true intentions lie thus far, I believe it is safe to say that Shakespeare wishes us to consider these two characters, and what they lend to the monarchy, to England, and to each of their own fates.

Poor, Poor Richard

So sorry this is late!
Upon finishing Richard II, the question of who's really the good guy and who's really the bad guy has an unclear answer. Is it fair to say that Richard has redeemed himself for being such a horrible king by realizing that he is no better than the commoners? Or is this "woe is me" act just that? Is Bolingbroke still the better man for punishing Richard's killer and leaving on a pilgrimage? Or is this, too an act? In my opinion, it's hard to like either of these men when looking at their actions throughout the play.

Richard is the easiest of the two men to rip apart because of his indecision and cruelty. He reminds me of a less loony but still annoyingly stupid Hamlet, except Hamlet always sounded like a teenager to me so I had a tendency to forgive him. Richard, on the other hand and especially in his final scene, sounds older and older and older. By the time he has his final speech, I had to keep reminding myself that he was thirty and not fifty. This slow slump into misery and recognition of his own failures led Richard to grow up a bit and take responsibility. This does not absolve him of those failures but it leaves the audience with a different, more sympathetic picture of Richard after he is killed. Perhaps it is because he is alone in the castle, away from the "riffraff" he surrounded himself with. After calling Bolingbroke out for treating commoners as equals, he tells a Groomer that they are worth the same amount. Richard is teeth-grindingly insufferable until the final act, when his humanity and humility finally shine through. Is it all an act? Why would he fake it? He has nothing left. I like to think it truly is a revelation.

Bolingbroke, on the other hand, seems to remain the same from beginning to end: he is the sweet, sweet lemondrop on top of Richard's melting ice cream...on the surface. I found a very interesting argument from Irving Ribner that states Bolingbroke's ascension to the throne is a pure demonstration of Machiavellian philosophy. Bolingbroke causes internal unrest among Richard's followers, he takes power in a time of turmoil, he makes Richard give up power instead of simply taking it himself, he kills many of those faithful to Richard after he receives the crown, and he has Richard killed at the end of the play. Even his trip to the Holy Land is Machiavellian because the philosophy states that rulers must appear pious. Bolingbroke is the real wolf of the play, choosing to hide in sheep's clothing, while Richard was the coyote, scrounging around trying to find something to latch onto.

If I had to choose which man to support, I would choose Richard. It's hard to read the first few acts of this play and like Richard and even harder to predict that one would by the end. Bolingbroke is, on the surface the better man. He does everything right to win the support of the audience. However, once his actions are given a good twice-over, his boy scout persona quickly falls apart. He wanted Richard killed and punished Exton to save face. That's the bottom line. Richard may not be the picture of a good Englishman, but at least he was honest and open with his failures and bad deeds. Bolingbroke will sit on his thrown with the Cheshire Cat smile, knowing he tricked everyone.

Sarah Bras

Irony in Richard's Speech and Ability as a King

It is very interesting to me why Richard II acts as such a weak, inconsistent king, yet he speaks poetically and beautifully, delivering (arguably) some of the plays most eloquent speeches. He frequently cites anecdotal analogies and using other metaphors and symbols that are made because of his extensive knowledge of history and mythology. I'm aware that articulate speech and being a good king are different, but I think there's a definite reason as to why Shakespeare would implant such an odd irony in the play's central character.

His most recent, captivating speech occurs at the end of Act III scene ii, where he is expressing his feelings of death to Aumerle. It states, "For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground,/ And tell sad stories of the death of kings -/ How some have been deposed, some slain in war,/ Some haunted by the ghosts they have disposed,/ Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed,/ All murdered" (ln. 151-156). His sorrow is articulated very poetically, and it makes me wonder why he makes some horrible decisions yet can recollect on his mistakes in a profound way.

Perhaps is it simply to show what truly makes a good person and a good king. Simple articulation doesn't equate to good kingship. It could also be a critique on kings by Shakespeare, the opinion that politicians and kings speak poetically to create a facade; under all these flowery language lies dimwitted decision making and ill-favored fortunes. I'm assuming that this trend continues through the end of the play, and the two concluding acts may serve as more evidence for this particular aspect of the play.

History Plays

So far, Richard II has been an interesting read. I find it to be far denser and involved than the comedies we’ve read thus far, but that is only to be expected, seeing as it is a history play. It is also far more involved in political details and information than most of the tragedies I have read so far—Hamlet and Macbeth come easily to mind. I believe that this—this (at times exhaustive) focus and attention to detail and complicated politics that separates history plays from Shakespeare’s tragedies. True, all of his plays contain complex plots and involve in-depth glimpses into disparate politics, but none have focused entirely upon the politics involved—there are deeper themes, to which the politics take a background position. Tragedies are, in essence, focused on the tragedy—the personal tragedy, the inner anguish of the tragic characters and their falls, from grace or from happiness (often both.) There is more of a personal element to the story, more exploration of the characters, due to this focus.

Histories, on the other hand, are entirely built around the shifting and changing of political alliances and strengths, more concerned with the moving of the outside world than with the shifts and changes within a character’s inner world. Richard II basically swamps the audience with information about the political power-structure of the time, and how this structure changes; what events occur to cause this change and why being the main concern of the play thus far. There are fleeting personal glimpses into the characters’ lives, the most prominent being the Queen’s scenes—her stake in the actions of the play are represented as purely personal, purely emotional, perhaps as a relief or counterpoint to the main thrust of the play, much like the comedic scenes found throughout Shakespeare’s tragedies. This is another difference between this history and the other plays we have read—usually there are figures used solely for comedic relief, some rough humour to tide the audience over before delving back into the meat of the play. In Richard II, the only scenes that differ from the dense political action are those of the Queen, in that they are driven purely by emotion, and not the political powers and motivations that drive every other character in the play. She, then, is the relief, the counter-point, the break in the action to give the audiences a breather, perhaps underlining the serious matter of the play that it possesses no rude clowns or jesters—simply the young, pure Queen to take our minds, however briefly, off of the dire circumstances portrayed in the rest of the play.

Richard II

So far I’ve enjoyed the first three acts of Richard II, and feel that they are a nice change of pace from the comedies we’ve read up until this point. At this point, however, I’ve still not been able to choose a side to root for, and the various family connections of people on both sides don’t make anything easier. I seem to be more inclined to be on Richard’s side, although it’s very possible that this is only because the play is named after him and he is the main character of the play. His character, however, does not seem to be the greatest person, as he openly admits that, should he need to, he has no problem filling out blank bank charters with a rich person’s name and collecting the money from them. He also takes inheritance that is not rightfully his from Bolingbroke after John of Gaunt dies.

One thing that surprised me a little in Act 3.2 was how nonchalantly women were put down. I always seem to forget how poorly women were treated throughout history and often get surprised when reading things such as this. Scrope even goes so far as to use the word “female” in place of “weak.” He also insults the men who would fight against the king by insinuating that they are young and girly by saying; “Boys with women’s voices/ strive to speak big” (3.2.109-110).

Something I’m becoming concerned with so far, though, is the amount of characters who keep coming about and their various titles. It seems like every time I get used to the character names, they either change or another character is thrown into the mix. I find it especially frustrating when there are characters such as “First Lady” and “Second Lady” or “Gardiner” (3.4) because we never get their names and they only have brief appearances in the play, at least so far. I find myself wondering whether or not characters such as these, and even some of the more prominent characters, are needed. Couldn’t Shakespeare have found some way around using so many characters? Especially characters that serve little to no purpose? We are told at the beginning of the Norton (the family tree) that Shakespeare combines certain characters, etc. so I would think that he put a fair amount of thought into which characters should be in the play, and which should be left out, so I guess it’s safe to assume that any characters in the play are there because Shakespeare wanted them to be. Sometimes it just seems slightly overwhelming.

Why Does Richard Give Up So Easily?

While reading act three of Shakespeare’s Richard II what really jumped out at me was how easily Richard seemed to give up and surrender to Bolingbroke. It seemed to me that while reading the first few acts of this play that Richard was a very strong willed king who believed in the divine right of kings-which therefore assumes that Richard would see himself as an extension of god and god’s power. Based on this fact I assumed that there was no way that Richard was going to peacefully hand over his crown to Bolingbroke. I would think that Richard would see himself as all powerful, and that therefore there could be no possible way that Bolingbroke could seize the throne from him. But it seems that Richard doesn’t believe he is so powerful at all because at the end of act three he just simply gives up all hope and decides to go to see Bolingbroke, where eventually he will surrender his crown. I ultimately found Richard’s acts at the end of this scene quite confusing and quite contradictory to what he says/does earlier on in the play or even scene.

Richard says earlier on in Act three, scene two before he gives up all hope, “Not all the water in the rough rude sea / Can wash the balm from an anointed king. / The breath of worldly men cannot depose / The deputy elected by the Lord.” (50-53). What Richard is saying here is that he himself is the rightful god chosen king, and with god on his side there is no way that Bolingbroke stands a chance against him. This is a statement that I was not surprised to see Richard make and it is one that I thought fit his character very well. Richard here is explicitly stating that because of the divine right of kings, Bolingbroke cannot possibly become king. But then later on in this scene after Richard finds out that his loyal followers have been executed and his army and uncle have deserted him, he completely contradicts his previous statement by giving up hope and deciding to go see/surrender to Bolingbroke.

Richard simply giving up hope really bothered me and I really thought it went against his character. I was seriously preparing myself for an epic battle during act four between Bolingbroke and Richard, because I thought that Richard would never surrender peacefully, but in the end Richard just simply gave up his crown. I’m not sure what to make of this yet because I still haven’t finished act five, but the Richard who I once saw as a strong willed king, who wouldn’t even dream of giving up his throne, now just seems to be a coward…

Identity and Divine Right

After reading Act 3, I am still unsure of how I feel about the character of Richard. Most of the time I feel bad for him, but once and a while he'll do something that bothers me. I'm curious to see what happens in the next act, and particularly, if he will be killed, or at least removed from the throne by Bolingbroke. I think he will be removed from the throne in the next act, as act 3 seemed to be moving towards that fate for Richard, but like all Shakespeare plays I'm sure there could be some crazy plot twist I wasn't expecting that changes everything.

Something I thought to be interesting while reading this play was the idea of divine right. I know we talked about this a little bit in class Friday, but reading Act 3 really got me thinking about it a bit more. I knew from history class that monarchs often got their power from the belief that they were chosen by God to be rulers, but I had never really thought about how important that may be. Richard says that "Not all the water in the rough rude sea/Can wash the balm from an anointed king./The Breath of worldly men cannot depose/ The deputy elected by the Lord" (3.2.50-53), and this really reveals how much faith is put into the belief of divine right, and that a ruler is a ruler not only because they are a part of the royal family, but also because they have been chosen by God to rule.

Another thing I found to be interesting was the continued discussion of honor and familial bonds, which we talked about for a while in class. Bolingbroke talks about his banishment in Act 3.1, and says "From my own windows torn my household coat,/ Razed out my imprese, leaving me no sign,/ Save men's opinions and my living blood,/ To show the world I am a gentlemen" (3.1.24-27). These lines show us just how important Bolingbroke's lineage is to him, as well as his honor. This also reveals how these things contribute hugely to constructing his identity. The loss of these things devastated him, and I think that he wants revenge for the theft of his honor.

Audience's Reaction?

So far during our readings for Shakespeare II, the plays have taken place away from England: Merchant of Venice in Venice, Italy and Measure for Measure in Vienna, Austria. Even during class this concept of taking place away from England has been a main idea in order for Shakespeare to distance himself away from the issues he raises to avoid conflicts with the people and rulers of England. Unlike the other two, his history play, Richard II takes place right in England. Obviously this is due to the fact that this play is supposed to be based on real events, but I wonder how the people took to Shakespeare’s view of what happened in the past?

In our society, history is constantly being made into books, movies, and plays. For example, the movie Pearl Harbor is based on real events but twisted into a love story in order to make it more appealing to audiences. Now I’ll be the first to admit my knowledge of European history is not very good, but Shakespeare had to have altered the content of the play a little bit in order to appeal to his own audiences. Such as the dramatized plot in Act 1 scene 4 for gaining money to go to war, as Richard says, “We are enforced to farm our royal realm, / the revenue whereof shall furnish us / for our affairs in hand” (1:4 lines 44-46) combined with the spectacular timing for Bushy to come with the news of John of Gaunt’s failing health. I realize that this idea probably did happen, but did it happen exactly like this, or is this something Shakespeare created to produce irony and to set the stage for later in the play?

But if the play was based in England and on England’s royalty, how did Shakespeare not get into trouble with this, especially since it seems as if the way Richard is portrayed here is not in a good light? From what I got from the reading it sounds as if Richard wants to get money from the wealthy people and then pay the wealthy people back with the taxes from the common people. Would that not make him a very unpopular king with the commoners? I’m not too sure whether or not he was considered to be a good or bad king yet, but it sounds like an unpopular idea to me. Would the audiences of this play agree that this is a bad idea and cheer Shakespeare on, or would the current King of England take offense to the idea that Shakespeare could be criticizing the past royal families? I know that Shakespeare writes plays on several of England’s kings, but after our discussion in class of him trying to avoid trouble and association, why did he become brave and create these plays? It makes me wonder that if he were alive and savvy to what was going on in America at any given time, what kind of plays and about which presidents would he write?