Showing posts with label Shakespeare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shakespeare. Show all posts

Monday, October 1, 2012

When it comes to Shakespeare, nothing is unworthy of noting.



Without a doubt, many readers of Much Ado About Nothing’s Act IV, scene i would “note” that it contains far more tragic elements than what would be expected from a comedic play. Indeed, the scene featuring Claudio’s public rejection of Hero at the altar is quite a shocking moment in the production, however essential it is to the plot’s development. Despite its negative tone, however, this scene brings forth a passage containing some of Shakespeare’s most brilliant wordplay. Shakespeare uses the irony of Hero’s name as the basis of several clever insults, all playing on the definition of “hero” and the common conceptions of the word. I’d like to examine this short passage to highlight the fact that, even within only twenty-five lines, Shakespeare is able to intersperse many nuance details in his writing.
The witty play on words begins in line 76:
Hero: O God defend me, how am I beset!
What kind of catechizing call you this?
Claudio: To make you answer truly to your name.
Here, Claudio is demanding that Hero answer to him who she really is. At first take, the line seems merely a rhetorical question for dramatic emphasis, but when taken figuratively, Claudio really wants Hero to answer true to heroic virtues. He implies that if Hero is her name, then a “hero” should answer him, that is, one who possesses the attributes of nobleness and honesty.
Hero, the character, then replies, “Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name / With any just reproach?” In other words, who can tarnish the reputation of a hero with such an accusation? Claudio is quick to reply, “Marry, that can Hero. / Hero itself can blot out Hero’s virtue,” another play on the name (IV.i.80–81). Claudio asserts that Hero “blotted” out the virtue of a true hero by committing her alleged misdeed. A little later, in lines 98–100, Claudio exclaims, “O Hero! What a Hero hadst thou been / If half thy outward graces had been placed / About thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart!” Here is an obvious play on “hero,” for Claudio is explaining that, if Hero was as pure and beautiful inside as she was outwardly, she would fulfill the definition of a true hero’s qualities.
            I found examining this scene important, for it is a prime example of the beauty of Shakespeare’s writing, and it also highlights the necessity to pay close attention to every little nuance of his writing. Prior to taking this class with Dr. Mulready, I never knew this particular play’s title to have anything to do with “noting”; now, I understand the importance of appreciating minute details even more than ever, in this one and all of Shakespeare's plays.

When it comes to Shakespeare, nothing is unworthy of noting.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Shylock and Bassanio


                What stood out to me most in Act IV of Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, other than all of the incredibly confusing discussion between the characters about the different deals being upheld and broken, was many of the passages in scene one, around lines sixty to seventy on page 1160. After Shylock’s long speech, we hear Bassanio determine that his response “is no answer” (4.1.62) to which Shylock replies “I am not bound to please thee with my answers” (4.1.64). This interchange to begin with was really interesting because despite how Shylock already seemed, he just keeps getting worse and worse as it goes on. His speech from lines thirty-four to sixty-one completely circles around how he simply refuses to give an answer, and it seems like he’s just trying to waste time and frustrate Bassanio enough so that he will just agree to anything as long as he can be away from Shylock.
                While all of this was intriguing, the quote that really caught my eye in this portion was what came next, when Bassanio asks “Do all men kill the things they do not love?” and Shylock responds, “Hates any man the thing he would not kill?” and then finally Bassanio says, “Every offense is not a hate at first” (4.1.65-67). It just seems so much like this interchange shows so vividly what types of people these two are. While I am not the biggest Bassanio fan either, it just shows how much more human he seems to be than Shylock. He is so incredulous that this man just wants to take the life out of anything and everything that ever could possibly irritate him, as most people probably would be, and Shylock feels like this is such normal behavior that it is chilling. Plus, to make it all even more of a moment, Bassanio is trying to make Shylock understand through simple terms what he is getting at and Shylock not only contradicts him but uses his own words to do so, which just really makes him seem awful. Finally, Bassanio’s final sentence almost seems like it could have been the end of the argument, with Shylock coming out on top, had it not been delivered powerfully, but the two do continue discussion in the story. Again, Bassanio just seems so overwhelmed by Shylock’s mere personality; it is as though just for a moment Bassanio and the reader have the same emotions.
                The rest of Act IV had many other good moments and plenty of sections which I simply could not wrap my head around, but this page in particular really stood out to me just because of that last interchange between the two men. I really loved the first line Bassanio said which I mentioned about all men killing the “things they do not love,” which was what made me stop and really analyze the passage, and I just felt like what I found offered such a glaring view of Shylock’s true character.  The fact that he does not immediately realize that not everything warrants death, that he needs to be told this is just so indicative of so many things about him.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Kurosawa's Ran

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbbfDntoRRk

This is a link to a pretty silly trailer for Akira Kurosawa’s Ran, which is based on King Lear. The trailer doesn’t do the film justice, but I couldn’t find any short clip that was better. I chose this film because I think Kurosawa offers an interesting take on the story of King Lear and perhaps gives credence to Ben Johnson’s claim that Shakespeare is for all time (as the film is set feudal Japan). The visuals are quite striking and Kurosawa maintains a raw dramatic energy throughout. For anyone who is interested in Shakespeare and Japanese cinema, Kurosawa’s a good director to look at. He also adapted Macbeth in Throne of Blood (and has adapted other works by western authors, like Maxim Gorky’s Lower Depths). For those of you who are interested, here’s a link to a pretty good quality (and free) streaming of the full length film:

http://stagevu.com/video/rdmdqyjoovry

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Lady Macbeth Meets Sassy Gay Friend!

When I heard about this part of the final, I immediately thought of Sassy Gay Friend. He is absolutely hilarious (aside from the shameless product placement which is not included in his older videos). For those who have never heard of Sassy Gay Friend, he is basically a character that visits many female characters of literature (mostly Shakespeare) in order to steer them away from their imminent doom. I chose this video of the Sassy Gay Friend because it had to be about a play we read this semester, but I prefer the Hamlet, Othello, and Romeo and Juliet editions.

I know this series of videos is more for entertainment than education, and I would sound ridiculous trying to seriously analyze these videos. However, I will say that the satire that Sassy Gay Friend brings to Shakespeare is important. For one thing, it is another way of making Shakespeare accessible to a larger audience. Satire sometimes helps in our understanding of a play and forces us to question it. But also, in all of his videos, he asks the questions that I always ask while reading Shakespeare; I know that part of theater is always about the suspension of disbelief, but sometimes I can't help but wonder how/why characters in Shakespeare's plays do what they do. Yes, Shakespeare's work is amazing, but really, it's also sometimes ridiculous and over-dramatic. I think a lot of Shakespeare's characters would benefit from a Sassy Gay Friend.

Monday, May 2, 2011

The Transmutation of Macdeath

Macbeth is riddled with language of transmutation. From the series of murders that transform the organization of the state (not to mention the state of Macbeth’s soul) to the sing-song rhyming of the weird sisters, the play deals with the processes by which fate unfolds. Even the etymology of “weird”--from the Old English “wyrd” meaning fate--which is of course closely associated with witchcraft, points to the transmutation of supernatural forces into fate in the human realm. The weird sisters call upon dark beings to transmute the world of man. Indeed Macbeth comes under the spell of devilish powers which enter his soul and drive him deeper and deeper into damnation. As he descends he begins to perceive, through the chaos of his soul, the supersensible beings which have taken him prisoner. In this way, his consciousness is also transmuted into a twofold personality after the “deed that’s done” to Duncan (the done king). Macbeth double-crosses Duncan, who’s with him in “double trust,” (echoing the refrain “double, double toil and trouble”) which results in uncontrolled, spontaneous insights into other planes of reality. In other words, he’s being transmuted into a fiend of the lower worlds where his higher nature has scarcely any influence. He has stripped away the curative properties of sleep, “the death of each day’s life,” so that he’s left in a state of perpetual decay (2.2.35). The false face which must hide the false heart is eventually transmuted by its falseness so that fair becomes foul. Death perfects the imperfect words of the weird sisters, or rather Macbeth (or should I say Macdeath) interprets them to justify the macabre deaths that he unleashes. Like King Lear, this play also questions the nature of free-will and destiny. I don’t think these two things are mutually exclusive. There are certain events which through an act of fate present themselves to Macbeth, but he always has the freedom to decide how to relate himself to these events, how to interpret them and create meaning out of them. Of course, Macbeth’s will-power cannot stand up against the evil forces that take hold of his soul and spur him on to his doom. Once he begins to act in accordance with the fiendish greed that arises in him it becomes increasingly difficult for him to master the impulses that transmute his soul into a vessel for destructive demonic powers.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Ring Bearer

For this post I want to talk about an underlying motif that I picked up on; namely, the Ring in all its forms and iterations. If you replace K with R and L with B (and add an “er” at the end), like Frodo, King Lear becomes a Ring Bearer. In the beginning, he cuts his ring (crown) in half and finds that like a split egg after the meat’s been eaten or a Zero (whose first letter “zed” is considered superfluous) or a “shealed peascod,” Lear is left with nOthing (1.4.174). This tragic sense of loss also resonates with the repetition of the exclamatory O, as in “O heavens!” or “World, World, O World,” which recalls the celestial and earthly spheres that spin the characters’ Wheel of Fortune. By the end of act IV Lear’s “wheel runs down a hill” and transmutes into a wheel of fire (2.4.67, 4.7.47). If you transmute his wheels into eyes and fire into blood you have the fate of Gloucester, who’s son Edgar shape-shifts into a fiend whose “eyes were two full moons” (4.6.70). It’s interesting that this fiend (who’s really Edgar himself) is associated with the moon, because in the magical tradition the moon is associated with the influences of our past, and as we know, Gloucester is now suffering, in a karmically fit way, for his earlier figurative blindness and the subsequent demonization of Edgar. Both Lear and Gloucester end up with a fiery wheel and bloody eyes (respectively) partly because, as the Fool say, “He’s mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf” (3.6.16). In other words, madness arises out of an inability to see the true nature of the world. That doesn’t mean we should automatically tend toward adverse criticism--then you might end up like Edmund--but rather we need attentiveness, patience, and thoughtful deliberation to see through the trappings of the world. Which brings me to another important piece of the Fool’s wisdom: “The cod-piece that will house/Before the head has any,/The head and he shall louse;/So beggars marry many./The man that makes his toe/What he his heart should make/Shall of a corn cry woe,/And turn his sleep to wake” (3.2.25). Here the Fool outlines the essential hierarchy of human nature. The material and sexual needs of a human being are aspects of his/her lower nature while the faculties of thought and love are of a higher nature. The Fool’s wisdom speaks to the Shakespearean theme of “seeming” versus “being”: the tragedy of the play arises out of mistaking seeming for being and this whirlpool of a theme turns around the Ring motif in all its manifestations.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Meta-Post: Wordplay and Metaphysics

I think the most apt title I’ve come up with for any of my posts is “Wordplay with a side of Metaphysics.” That pretty much sums up my tendency to examine layers of meaning created by word association (often ironic in Shakespeare) and to talk about the spiritual implications of the text. A quick glance over the diction in my posts reveals my fondness for words like “subtle,” “illusion,” “truth,” “reality,” and “nature”--often presented in different relationships with one another. That’s an important aspect of the way I talk about literature too. I often try to chose a few representative words and set them up in relation to one another as a kind of paradigm of the play that I can reflect on at a distance. It’s this act of stepping back to more consciously observe how I feel about the relationships in the piece that helps me come to a deeper understanding of the work as a whole and how I engage with it. When we get caught up in the drama of a play we often lose our sense of “I”--like at the movie theater when we forget that we’re just watching a series of frames flashing over a screen--and so we lose sight of our relationship to what we’re observing and its broader meaning. But through mindful reading and the creation of a relational paradigm I can look more objectively at my experience of a work of art or anything in life really. In fact, this is my approach to looking at my own nature as well, which speaks to the spiritual-scientific content of my posts. For our next essay assignment, I’ll be elaborating on my reading of Measure for Measure in which I talk a bit about how the Sermon on the Mount resonates with the play. In that vein, I plan on talking about the work in light of Plato’s Gnosticism as well as Christian esoteric thought. In my post, I used an analogy that relied on Vedanta, but in elaborating my ideas in the essay I plan on synthesizing concepts of esoteric science in my interpretation of Shakespeare’s work. With all of that said, the most difficult part about writing a truthful and intelligent response is avoiding self-deception. Ideas sometimes arise in me which strike me as quite clever and because of my fondness for them, I overlook their inherent falsity or, in other words, I deceive myself into seeing the false as true and the true as false--that’s when the relational paradigm comes in. It helps me step outside of the system of the play and its relation to my own biases so I can see, in quiet contemplation, how my consciousness engages with the play.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Word Play (with a side of metaphysics)

I’d like to jump into the text with a discussion of Shakespeare’s play on the word “mettle” and its homonyms (i.e. medal and meddle)--word play that unifies a few spheres of discourse in the drama. We get the first instance of “metal” (a variant of “mettle”) at the very beginning of the play when Angelo implores the Duke, “Let there be some more test made of my metal/Before so noble and so great a figure/Be stamped upon it” (1.1.49). On the surface, Angelo refers to the quality of his spirit or character (his metal) and the noble responsibility about to be entrusted to his soul. There’s also an implicit meaning in the diction though, which suggests that what’s being vested in him is not only of a spiritual nature, but also dons a material badge. The language calls to mind the stamping of a coin or honorary medal, and as we come to discover, the play is all about appearance and substance, illusion and truth, outward action and inner dimension. Later in the play we get the slang “medlar” meaning “prostitute” (4.3.161) which then ironically resonates with Lucio’s indictment of Friar Lodowick (the Duke) for “meddling” in the situation (5.1.127). Then we get Friar Peter’s defense of Lodowick, saying he is not a “temporary meddler” (5.1.144). This brings me back to the movement of the spiritual and material spheres in the play; the spirit (mettle) does not meddle in matters of the ephemeral world, such as the appointment of any kind of medal of honor. At the same time, the action and drama of the play emerges out of the Duke’s impulses. In the Vedantic tradition, Brahman (the conscious principle that underlies all reality, including the manifested world) is often talked about as a divine trinity consisting of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. Brahma is the creative impulse of Brahman, while Vishnu is its preserving aspect and Shiva is the force that returns all of creation to its source, Brahman. The Duke, like Brahman, creates, preserves and returns the play to its original order. Out of the Duke’s omniscient Mind, a drama arises in which the actors become lost in the illusion of the material world, mistaking it for true and substantive, and thus fall from grace. After this drama has been sustained long enough for us to learn a lesson, the Duke returns that world to its original harmony. I think one of the more spiritual lessons learned comes from Christ’s Sermon on the Mount; namely, our inner lives are just as real and consequential as our outward actions. When Isabella gets down on her knees at the end of the play and pleas for Angelo’s life, on the grounds that he should not be punished because his intent never became action and only actions are punishable; of course, ironically, the drama and excitement of the play derive entirely from thoughts, desires, and intentions. Again Shakespeare gives us a wonderful dramatic irony at the end of the play. While everything onstage is apparently resolved because no harmful action has been committed, we as an audience have learned the power of desires and thoughts to shape the drama of the world around us.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Crossing a Sea of Damned Riddles

In this post I want to explore some of the instances of polysemous language in the play and talk about how Shakespeare creates layers of meaning and subtle irony. To begin with, I first noticed a play on the word “cross” in 2.4 line 35-37 when Lorenzo says about Jessica, “And never dare misfortune cross her foot/Unless she do it under this excuse:/That she is issue to a faithless Jew.” I detected a subtle irony in the word choice of “cross” (which is also of course the central emblem of Christianity) and when I saw that Jessica uses the same phrase at the end of the next scene, 2.5 line 54, I made sure to keep an eye out for later iterations. In the first scene of Act III, Solanio uses the word with even greater irony when he says, “Let me say amen betimes, lest the devil cross my prayer--” (3.1 17-18). The irony is then further accentuated when Shylock enters and Solanio calls him the Jewish manifestation of the devil, so that, in a nut shell, we have a Jewish devil threatening to “cross” Solanio’s prayer for the man (Antonio) who crossed Shylock. Shakespeare gives us rich yet subtle layers of meaning which unveil the polysemous nature of language and, in this specific context, applies it to the religio-cultural situation. The sign of the cross, which should represent Christ’s values and attitude (i.e. forgiveness, compassion, love, etc.) becomes a justification for hatred and racism, and so the Christians cross the Jews and the Jews cross the Christians. People often cite Shylock’s speech about human equality--which ironically is also his justification for revenge--as the hallmark passage from The Merchant of Venice; while I also find his words moving, I think the crux of the play is really Bassanio’s internal monologue about the illusory nature of the world, which brings me back to my point about language and religion. In the monologue, Bassanio says, “In religion,/What damned error but some sober brow/Will bless it and approve it with a text,/Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?” (3.2 77-80). His diction recalls the story of Jessica, who on a number of occasions is called “damned”--such as in 3.5 by Lancelot (the master of language play)--and who, disguised as a boy nonetheless, flees her Jewish father (who also calls her “damned”) and tries to hide under the shadow of the cross so to speak. A few lines later in the monologue Bassanio’s words again resonate ironically with the context of his speech when he says, “How many cowards whose hearts are all as false/As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins the beards of Hercules and frowning Mars,/Who, inward searched, have livers white as milk?” (3.2 83-86). First off I love that phrase “as false as stairs of sand,” but also the Hercules name-drop recalls boastful Morocco, who compares himself to Alcides (Hercules) and fears that a lesser man may claim his reward in this dicey game of marriage riddled with uncertainties; it also more explicitly reminds me of Portia’s comparison between Alcides (Hercules) and Bassanio (interestingly, she also uses two names to refer to the same figure). What’s more, Portia recalls a story in which Hercules saves a Trojan princess, not out of love but for the reward, and she couldn’t have chosen a better parable for the situation, because as we know Bassanio has come, wearing the beard of Hercules, to win a reward. His monologue is riddled with hypocrisy and self-deception, yet there is truth in the essence of his words. Before reading the monologue I wondered if any character would see beyond the illusions of wealth and prestige, but it appears that Shakespeare has chosen to keep them in the dark and teach us the lesson through a powerful but subtle use of dramatic irony.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Meta-Blogging!

In my last three posts on “New Paltz Shakespeare” I have looked at; “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, “Twelfth Night” and “Othello”.
In my first post about “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” I examined the text to stage aspect of the play, looking at performance through the lens of the NYC ballet, considering how the original text can be communicated in so many ways (ie through dance and without words). My second post “Everybody Plays the Fool” was a bit spacey; it attempted to focus on Feste and the true fools of the play. Shakespeare may name characters like Feste and other more bumbling men (like the Rude Mechanicals in Midsummer and the police in “Much Ado about Nothing”) as fools, but each set of characters seems to open a new commentary on people and their actions. Finally last week’s post was about tragedy in Othello and the pieces of the play that can classify it as so. I also focused on the opposing dimensions of the relationships before and after the classic happy ending.
Although each post seems quite different from one another I think they have a central focus on the duality that Shakespeare creates in his works. The collision of different characters and seamless questions the text presents keep me working to try and decode the plays even more. I am also working to understand Shakespeare’s works though the idea of opposites and parallel situations. How can his writings be presented without words? Who are the true fools in the plays? Why do the comedies have many aspects of tragedy? The opposing situations and different tasks certainly are very interesting to me!
I would like to revisit the idea of the happy endings and majority of unrealistic relationships in the comedies and the darker but sometimes more true character bonds in the tragedies, through the context of marriage and love.
I am enjoying this alternative/additional classroom space, the blog is a nice format to further explore our ideas and see what our classmates are thinking. It’s fun to write blog posts as opposed to mini essays or in class reflections because we can put in video clips, have as much space and time as needed to get into an idea and we can comment on one another’s work. I enjoy the more freestyle guidelines as it allows me to think about the ideas more thoroughly. It’s also a great exercise at writing for others and presenting my ideas in a clear and approachable way.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Much Ado about Dancing

In Much Ado about Nothing, Shakespeare uses dance as a way to help describe the relationships in this play. This is a play of action and movement. Don John attempts to fumble the steps of his brothers consorts, Beatrice and Benedick moving against each other, and all other characters attempting to choreograph them into a duet. His words in this play are words of action and movement. Choices in diction reflect this with words like “ flight” ( 1.1.32), “halting” ( 1.1.52), “run” ( 1.1.74) all within the first moments of play.

Verbal jest seem to create a floor pattern worthy of Fred and Ginger. (See Youtube video at the end of blogpost) Shakespeare uses the rhetorical device like anadiplosis, which takes the last word previously said and knits into the beginning of the present line. Making for seamless verbal choreography as seen between Beatrice and Benedick in the following exchange.

“BEATRICE

A dear happiness to women: they would else have

been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God

and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I

had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man

swear he loves me.

BENEDICK

God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some

gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate

scratched face.

BEATRICE

Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such

a face as yours were.

BENEDICK

Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.

BEATRICE

A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours. “

Act 1. Sc.1. lines 105-114

Not, only does the language create a dance like pattern but the literal references to dance and music are numerous within the text. A highlighted example would be Beatrice’s steamy salsa of a speech to her cousin Hero in 2.1

BEATRICE

The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be

not wooed in good time: if the prince be too

important, tell him there is measure in every thing

and so dance out the answer. For, hear me, Hero:

wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig,

a measure, and a cinque pace: the first suit is hot

and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as

fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a

measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes

repentance and, with his bad legs, falls into the

cinque pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.”

Act 2 Sc. 1 lines 57- 66

Here Beatrice takes the metaphor of dance and applies it to the whole scheme of courting, marriage and life is befitting to life in the upper crusts of Elizabethan society. The separate societies of men and women would converge in the dance hall in ways that was atypical from day to day interactions. Beatrice describes the “cinque a pace” which was dance also known as a galliard. And was known to be the favorite of Queen Elizabeth herself. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galliard). Below is a link to an example of a galliard dance.

http://lcweb2.loc.gov/musdivid/029c.mov



Sunday, September 26, 2010

Who're the True Servants?

The servants cause the mischief in comedies it seems. Like in Twelfth Night, where Maria thought up a merry plan to cause things to go a little bit crazy, Antonio’s man and Borachio seem to be the catalysts for chaos this time around. The trouble starts with Antonio’s man. He overhears Claudio and the Prince discussing how Claudio has fallen for Hero…and takes it entirely the wrong way. The Prince has decided to approach Hero at the masked ball later on and pretend to be Claudio to hear of her feelings for him…but the servant seems to think it’s the Prince who has a think for Hero! Leonato then says he’ll have Hero have an answer ready for just in case…for the wrong man! It seems all matter of craziness can spring from this, it seems another case of who loves who. It’s another case of clothing making the man, considering the Prince is disguising himself and as we learned from Viola, no good can come of that in Shakespeare’s plays!

Borachio, on the other hand, hears the full story and knows it’s Claudio who likes Hero. He also knows that the Prince will be dressed up like him to get her feelings. He tells this to his lord Don John who, we learn, doesn’t like Claudio. As it turns out, Claudio was the one who kept John from over throwing his brother. “If I can cross him any way I bless myself every way.” He seems to have every intention of causing chaos for poor Claudio. And thus the stage is set for very wacky things happening, as they are wont to do in Shakespeare’s work.

And this is all just in Act one. Shakespeare shows his skill at setting the stage and immediately getting the reader, or the audience seeing as it is a play, sucked right in. This was of course necessary for the time when the people on the floor could be easily bored and walk out, or throw rotten food. It was always best to keep the action moving and keep them entertained, but I digress! The point is that…it seems the servants start all the mischief.

If it wasn’t for the two eavesdroppers, Borachio and Leonato’s man, could this possibly have happened? Most likely not. It may have all gone according to plan otherwise. The Prince may have simply learned of Hero’s feelings for Claudio and set them up to be married. But that wouldn’t be much of a comedy, would it? No, the chaos must insue and all chaos needs catalysts, for which servants provide a wonderful source of such. We see it in Midsummer’s Night Dream with the way Oberon sends Puck to use the potion and he botches it up. Its also seen in Midsummer with the way all the fighting between Oberon and Titania starts with a servant boy that they both want. We see it in Twelfth night with Cesario being Orsino’s servant, which starts all the chaos in that play. It is also seen there with Maria and the way she, along with Sir Toby and Andrew, tricks Malvolio. Servants are what starts all the fun in these comedies. It makes you wonder who are the true servants, and who are the true masters!

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Should Act V Have Gone The Route of "Die, die die, die, die"?

Should Act V Have Gone The Route of "Die, die die, die, die"?
Blog Post #1 By Morgan Smith

A question some Shakespeare scholars pose in response to A Midsummer Night's Dream Act V is, "Was that really necessary?". When we last left our couples and characters in Act IV, most of the problems that initiated this whimsical play were resolved; the youths were paired off with their rightful mates, Oberon and Titania's feud produced Oberon victor, Bottom restored, and Theseus and Hippolyta's wedding is underway.


Don't roll down the curtains just yet- there are a number of subtle and significant themes continued in Act V that are worth your observation.


Echoing the title, dreams play an importance throughout the play and Act V served as a cincher to this motif. Puck wrapped up the theme of dreams by heralding Hippolyta and Theseus' later conversation of the lovers' "dreams" with this Epilogue, 'If we shadows have offended,/Think but this, and all is mended;That you have but slumbered here." (895, Lines 1-4) At this point, many of the characters presume that the proceedings of the night before were merely reverie and Puck's address to the audience fashions the play into a whimsical dream the crowd has enjoyed.


But besides repeating pre-existing themes, Act V gave a unique and silent version of AMND's leading ladies, Hermia and Helena. For the first time, these otherwise opinionated women have nothing to say in Act V. The previously unstoppable Helena and outspoken Hermia who defied "the ancient privilege of Athens" (850) seem to have nothing to say now that they have acquired the objects of their affection. This change in character insinuates marriage as the ultimate social achievement for women in this society, while the males can expect to go on to other things (and provide commentary to crude plays).


Act V served as a vehicle to tie the loose ends of themes, such as gender. Hippolyta, the symbolically conquered Amazon queen, is finally married to Theseus in this Act preceded by the play the "rude mechanicals" so laboriously put together. Compared to where we saw them last stating their wishes to rise up from their blue-collar post, their production of 'Pyramus and Thisbe' does not live up to their expectations and they unknowingly suffer harsh critique from their audience, "Hard-handed men that work Athens here, Which never laboured in their minds till now", is what Egeus refers to the players as. They bumble through the tragic love story- which eerily echoed the plot of Romeo and Juliet, though I've heard forbidden romances that end with everyone dying is a classic story arc (Tristan and Isolde, anyone?).

At first I thought such a play was an odd choice to entertain wedding guests with, but the theme of hardships and love seemed to shadow the trials faced by everyone in the woods prior. This reflection in 'Pyramus and Thisbe' to me added to the dreamlike mystique of the Acts that took place in the forest.


Overall, I do not feel AMND would be the same without Act V to really nail all those motifs on the head once and for all.

I would also like to add the pleasure I took in Theseus' reaction to Bottom offering an epilogue or rustic bergamask dance at the conclusion of the play, "No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse...Marry, if he that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter it would have been a fine tragedy...But come, your bergamask. Let the epilogue alone." (893)

It made me laugh. That is the best and most disparaging rejection to a shabby play!

Monday, August 30, 2010

Moon

“Saw it written and I saw it say/ Pink moon is on its way/And none of you stand so tall/ Pink Moon going to get you all/ And it’s a pink moon…”

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-Ya8adXZJE)

( Nick Drake, “ Pink Moon”, Pink Moon, Island, 1972)

“…Four happy days bring

Another moon- but O, methinks how slow

This old moon wanes!

She lingers my desires…”

(1.1 2-4) William Shakespeare

“Four days will quickly steep themselves in night,

Four nights will quickly dream away the time;

And then the moon, like to a silver bow

New bent in heaven, shall behold the night

Of our solemnities”

(I.I 7-11) William Shakespeare.

With 356 years between them, two British poets, seek to capture the intangible feeling brought on by the shift in Moon Phase. What is it about that milk, dipped orb that is both so enchanting and essential to us as humans then and now? More so how do allusions to the moon in A Midsummer Night’s Dream used by Shakespeare to craft a reality of fantasy? Where anything is possible, where the head of an ass can replace that of a man’s, where mischievous Puck squeezes the Elizabethan version of love potion number nine into the eyes of mortals, and the mortals find the pluck to defy the conventions of their society.

The first words in a play literally set the stage for the play and cast hooks out to the sea of the audience. Whether the audience becomes attached to the play is easily determined by whether they take the bait of the opening scene. With this in mind, how exciting is within the first five lines of the play Shakespeare through Theseus begin the dissolve the boundaries of reality. Within the next eleven lines Hippolyta delivers her words cast a spell upon the audience setting them up to be introduced to the parallel world of the faye. Shakespeare doesn’t need to slap the audience in the face with this, instead he hands the audience the moon and a whole world opens up.

Unlike proving that using leeches to bleed someone or basing medical treatment based on a person’s humor, the moon during Shakespeare’s time was something, which could be concretely observed. When it shifted so did other things in nature. The moon brought on the changing of the ocean’s tides. Considering England’s status as an Island the change of tides must have been an event of significance to its occupants. Not just the alteration of the tide could be observed with the waxing and waning, but other natural happenings as well. There was and still is whole almanacs written chronicling and foreshadowing the shifts in the lunar cycle. Like the pink moon spoken about by Nick Drake the Elizabethans had their names for each moon phase. Midsummer would have been celebrated around the summer solstice. The old moon which Theseus is so anxious to be rid of could have been the flower moon (http://www.homepages.ucl.ac.uk/~ucapsj0/moon/index.html). The new moon, could have very well been the hay moon.

However perhaps more importantly than the occurrence of the time that would take place with its coming, is the passage of transition. The fours days which are spoken of the moon would have been visible. (http://www.cgjungpage.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=714&Itemid=40). The moon would not have been showing, it would have been with out a true phase a time when the strict structure of nature loosens and anything goes! This is reflected in the ethereal path the play takes. When the moon returns to its full phase so does the order. The nuptials ensue, lovers are re-matched, a father is reconciled to his daughter, an ass remains an ass but the literal sense is removed, and two equally matched forces lay down their quarrel. How could this be? Blame it on the moon.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Meaningful LOLs

Before I dive head-first into my very first entry for this blog, I would like to make one thing clear: Shakespeare and I have never really gotten along together. From the time I screwed up my lines in a middle school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream to the time I cringed watching Mel "telephone" Gibson in the 1990 film adaptation of Hamlet to the time my library copy of Titus Andronicus fell into a puddle, my relationship with the Bard has been pretty shaky.

So, enter the $64,000 question of "Tyler, what exactly are you doing here?"
Answer: I want to finally see the light of Shakespeare's brilliance.

Fortunately, encountering AMND in an academic setting this semester has made things better. The catalyst for this has been the events surrounding Act I, scene ii. "Hilarious" is an understatement; the carpenter Quince's rehearsal for his production of The Most Lamentable Comedy and Most Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisbe is a rough and ridiculous affair, with Nick Bottom's insistence that he can speak like a woman better, Flute's denial of the role of Thisbe because he wants to grow a beard, and Snug's worries about not learning the part of the lion in time. Everything that can go wrong goes wrong indeed, but what is a frustrating affair for the amateur actors is a comedic riot for the audience.

In addition to being an exceptionally funny scene (and perhaps a behind-the-scenes look at how some actors were in Shakespeare's time), scene ii is vital in providing contrast between the comedy of Quince's actors and the serious romanticism of scene i's focus of Hermia, Lysander, Helena and Demetrius. Not only does it create for ebbs and flows of entertainment (instead of non-stop laughs or non-stop woes), it also contributes to the "dream" detailed in the core of the story. It is a variety of extremes coming together to create one giant mass of fantasy. This emotional architecture of sorts is complex, but would anything of Shakespeare's mind be anything but? It is comedy, but with bigger goals than just laughter.

The masterful use of contrast, as well as the heart of the story, is keeping me in place for an inevitable acceptance of Bill Shakes. That is, until I drop the textbook in a puddle and I'm once again smacked by The Bard.

Links:
Act I, scene ii - performed by Aletheia Stage & Film Co.
Hamlet (1990 film adaptation trailer) - cringe with me, guys

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Final Part III: RSC- The Histories

Well, you said we could choose a funny clip.

I had actually never seen these performers before and I think they are actually pretty good. When I was debating whether to include the Macbeth clip or the Histories clip, it was a tough choice. However, I ended up choosing the one about the histories because a lot of our semester was spent focusing on them. This clip demonstrates the confusion and the constant passing of the crown between different monarchs of England. The actors use the analogy that it is like a football game, constantly changing direction with penalties and fouls all over the place. The only part I did not really agree with at first was that King Lear came in so late, from what we know of him, he is supposed to be one of the earliest kings – they did cover their backs by calling him a “fictional character” and dismissing him completely. However, it seems like most of the order of kings is a bit mixed up in this scene. While this group of actors spends their time making fun of Shakespeare’s plays, I believe that they also admire his writings. It is just their way of getting the rest of the world involved in his work.

1. Despite what I said, do you believe that their representations of Shakespeare’s plays are insulting?

2. How accurate are the Reduced Shakespeare’s Company version of events?

3. Shakespeare’s history plays are meant to please the current royalty, how does Shakespeare accomplish this with such a touchy subject matter?

Monday, May 3, 2010

Double, Double Toil and Trouble

Believe it or not, I had no idea the rhyme “double, double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble” (Act 4, scene 1) came from this play! I always just assumed that it was something someone came up with around Halloween to creep everyone out! However, now knowing that Shakespeare was the originator of this rhyme, it is very fitting. This is my first time reading Macbeth, but I did see it performed once in middle school using only two actors and three students from the audience for the witches (honestly, that’s all I remember from that performance. I really don’t understand still how only two actors were used…). It is pretty amazing that Shakespeare’s depiction of witches stirring a cauldron and chanting this has survived through to our own time.

I can name several modern day films that use this phrase, all of them depicting witches. The first that comes to my mind, perhaps because it was the first one I remember seeing, was “Double Trouble,” starring the Olsen Twins (I could be wrong on the exact film title, it has been so long! Sorry!). There was a scene involving a woman dressed as a witch stirring a cauldron and saying these lines while the twins watched. Very creepy, especially for a kid.

The next, and probably best depiction of the typical, Halloween witch, comes from “Hocus Pocus.” Here there are three witches constantly trying to brew potions in the cauldron to suck the youth out of children for their own survival. While these witches use many of their own incantations, I generally picture Macbeth’s witches to look very similar.

A bit surprising, but in the third Harry Potter film, there is a scene toward the beginning, when they arrive at Hogwarts, with a bunch of the students singing a version of this (clipped attached). What is great about this is that every line in this song is from this scene in Macbeth! They even include the line “something wicked this way comes.” When I was reading this scene, in my head the entire time was the tune and rhythm of this song and it was kind of distracting due to the seriousness of the play at hand. Maybe the director’s idea behind using this song was to take away some of the scary effects it has on people? (I am unsure whether or not this song was created for this movie or existed beforehand). Regardless, Shakespeare is clearly using it as a means to frighten the reader/observer and maybe even to get the words stuck in their head.

I never really thought of Shakespeare as a horror writer before, but it may be possible to give him some of that credit in this play. I don’t believe that Europe has the same Halloween customs as we do in the United States (though they do have All Hallows eve, right?) but his influence on it is clear. I wonder if other people walk around on Halloween chanting those words not realizing their origin? This shows Shakespeare’s influence on our society even today. He seems to always crop up in the strangest places, which is great because, as a future educator, I can show my classes how he relates to and make connections with the modern times.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7lXrQI-jsEQ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_BbCrv28rJ4&feature=related

Monday, April 26, 2010

All of a Sudden, I Love You

I love Shakespeare's tragedies. They're pretty good at setting up a finale that looks like everything will work out and then the ultimate blows are dealt and everyone is left crying. King Lear is probably the best example, with Goneril and Regan killing each other, Edmund being killed by his noble brother, and Lear and Cordelia being reunited. You want to believe that Cordelia will take car of her father and rule the land (and rule the land she does, in the original version of the legend. Shakespeare loves his unhappy endings, I suppose), but instead she is killed, leaving Lear to die of madness and a broken heart. This kind of reminds my of Othello, except Desdemona was already dead when Iago was (finally!) exposed.

What I love about the ending of Lear is what happens between Lear and Cordelia. Lear at this point is completely bonkers, but he is still able to recognize Cordelia for who she is: the pure, noble daughter. Or, does he? If the tearing of the clothes and the flower crown are any indication, Lear has just given up on sanity. Broken and destitute, he accepts the help from Cordelia and rests at France's camp. Is it just because she's a nice lady and looks like Cordelia? I think the text indicates that he does recognize her (stating "I think this lady to be my child Cordelia") but he still has issue with her ("I know you do not love me"). So, the first meeting indicates that Lear recognizes Cordelia, but his insanity keeps him from forgiving.

Jump to the end of the play: Lear and Cordelia are captured, prompting Lear to wish nothing more than to be with his daughter and "kneel down, and ask of thee [Cordelia] forgiveness." It seems that the insanity of war snaps Lear out of it, if only temporarily. After Cordelia is killed, Lear only sees the possibility of her still being alive. Kent tries to reveal himself to Lear, but Lear's babbling prompts Albany to state "He knows not what he says: and vain it is that we present us to him." I think that line is the key to the entire play. From the very beginning, it was completely vain to speak up to Lear, reason with Lear, bring Lear to different places, get Lear to recognize someone, and really get Lear to do anything. He threw his "love" around like he was throwing M&Ms, causing both Kent (or Caius) and Cordelia (in the final act) quite a bit of trouble. Cordelia, especially, is a good example of this insanity: after everything that happened in the play and Lear's unwillingness to forgive, all of a sudden, he loves Cordelia again. It's not because of everything Goneril and Regan did, it's because he thinks he recognizes her in his insane cloud. Only after Cordelia dies does Lear feel true sadness, and even then he is completely bat crazy.

I want to believe Lear knows as soon as he wakes up that Cordelia is there for him and loves him deeply. But, there is so much build up in the heath that I have to see the dramatic reunion as dramatic for Cordelia, and confusing for Lear. Death reveals all, and for Lear, Cordelia had to die so he could realize her purity. I suppose that's tragedy for ya.

-Sarah Bras

Monday, April 12, 2010

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

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

midterm blog

Out of the three blog posts I have done so far this semester, my focus generally ends up being on the main characters, more specifically the main ruling characters within the plays. Looking back on my first post, “Women Rule,” I really like how I was able to present my idea and support it and even though it was the first one, I still think it was one of my best. Even the title shows my focus being on the power of women at the time and goes on to discuss the power Portia has over the play both as a woman and disguised as a man. My second blog post titled, “Audience’s Reaction,” began to take me away from the more structured, essay like post found in the previous one and more toward a conversational, questioning one. Here, I started by discussing where each play took place and Shakespeare’s hand in editing the actual events. At first he played it safe by keeping the plays off of the country of England, but then all his history plays, many of them controversial, became centered on England, and their royalty. Lately, I’ve been finding that I am very curious as to how the audience would have reacted, or the current royalty would have reacted to the portrayal of one of Shakespeare’s plays. Unfortunately, that is something we can never really know, but to have that insight and other people’s opinions of what happened is also interesting to me. Hence, the reason why in this post I noticed myself beginning to ask more questions hoping to spark a discussion with other people in the class. My last blog, “Prince Harry,” was even less formal than before, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. In that one I kind of feel like I was jabbering on, blurting out ideas just hoping they fit together. At the time, I didn’t know if Harry would become Henry V, a man I had always thought to be this great guy, but even at the start of reading Henry V, I am still waiting to see it happen. Although, I have to say he is really good at covering his back such as in the case of issuing those death warrants. He still has time to redeem himself in my eyes…

Many times, especially in the more recent two blog posts, I asked questions a lot trying to see what others would respond to and what their thoughts were. Unfortunately, that doesn’t always work. I know Professor Mulready responded to two of them, but only one student responded to one other of my posts. Maybe I need to work on my approach, maybe they aren’t interested in what I’m saying, or maybe I just get lost in the quay, it’s not a big deal, just a note to consider.

As Therese mentioned in her blog, I also believe the blogs to be a great way to discuss topics and ideas that we did not get a chance to discuss in class. Sometimes ideas are sparked in class or there is something that either interests or bothers us and by writing informally about it we begin to see where our thoughts are going or gain insight from other classmates. It also gives those who are quieter in class a chance to show off what they know and think. It gives our thoughts some place to go instead of staying dormant in our minds.