Immediately after Henry IV puts the crown he seized from Richard II on his head he inherits a kingdom's worth of troubles: threats to his legitimacy, Welsh blades itching to find themselves down his throat, and all the weights of statecraft and reputation hanging heavy on his shoulders. The play opens with a speech to this effect: "So shaken as we are, so wan with care/ Find we a time for frighted peace to pant/ And breathe short-winded accents of new broils..." (1.1 1-3) One wonders what this Henry Bolingbroke wants with the powers of Kingship, since the only thing Henry IV seems be be doing with his royal privilege is scrambling to maintain his power from threats internal (Mortimer and Northumberland) and external (the Scots and the Welsh led by Owain Glyndwr). This and his heir-apparent is a constant drag on his reputation.
It is easy to see why the Eastcheap lifestyle of raucous and bawdy merrymaking appeals so much to Prince Harry, considering what his father goes through on a daily basis. Knowingly, Falstaff, his drinking buddy, comments "when thou art a king, as God save thy grace- majesty/ I should say, for grace thou wilt have none-" (1.2 14-15) to suggest that the Prince would no longer be able to enjoy himself when he assumes the throne; he would lose his 'grace'. Prince Harry himself seems to believe he can readily assume the throne when the time comes, looking even better shining against a filthy background: "My reformation, glittering o'er my fault/ Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes/Than that which hath no foil to set it off" (1.2 191-3). On the surface he seems to believe he will be an excellent king, rising like a glorious sun, yet he idles about with thieves rather than practicing statecraft. One wonders if he is ignorant to all of the responsibilities that come with the crown like his beleaguered father as Duke of Lancaster before ascension.
While his son fools around in the underworld King Henry is under assault from all sides. "That great magician, damned Glyndwr" is Henry's known threat, but Hotspur and Northumberland also plot behind his back for the sake of Edmund Mortimer, Hotspur's brother. This is going on while Prince Harry and Poins conspire to play a prank on the fat knight Falstaff. The juxtaposition is marvelous: conspirators in jest with the Prince, and conspirators in warfare within the court. Prince Harry in disguise scares Falstaff away after he robs a fat purse and then goes to return it. In a sense, Prince Harry is governing much more effectively than the titled ruler, who is so consumed with protecting his position that he may as well not even exist to his subjects. Harry is much more real to the people (and more likable) than veiled hell of the court.
New Paltz Students Blogging about Shakespeare
Showing posts with label class. Show all posts
Showing posts with label class. Show all posts
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Monday, November 8, 2010
Seeming & Knowledge
I found Hamlet to be more confusing than Richard III. In the latter we have a character who understands his world thoroughly and can manipulate it to his advantage. The world presented to us in the opening act of Hamlet, however, is one in which there is a disruption of knowledge, which makes everything uncertain and indefinite. It is very much like the world of Much Ado About Nothing, in that both their characters operate on information received from other people that cannot be adequately verified--hearsay. The entire plot of MAAN is propelled by characters listening in on one another’s conversations. The romantic relationships are triggered not through direct contact, but through eavesdropping. Similarly, the characters in Hamlet obtain knowledge from what others have said to them: Horatio answers Marcellus’s question about why they are preparing for war by relating “the whisper” that has been spreading throughout Denmark; neither Horatio nor Marcellus know for sure what the crowing of the cock signifies, but both speculate by referring to what they “have heard” and what “some/they say”; Hamlet only learns of his father’s ghost after Horatio and Marcellus tell him of it, and it is the ghost who tells him that Claudius murdered his father. There is a consistent deferment of information, so that it’s like you can’t pinpoint exactly where a belief originated from. Even the first appearance of the ghost is not the first time it has been seen by characters in the play.
Horatio is aware that this kind of knowledge is unsubstantiated, and that breeds a sort of skepticism in him. He qualifies the myth about the crowing cock by saying he only believes it “in part.” When the soldiers first approach him about the ghost, he does not believe them and tells them that they’ve had a “fantasy.” The soldiers, meanwhile, appeal to someone with an education, an upperclassman, to speak to the ghost. Knowledge, then, is determined by class, with the soldiers’ insistence that they’ve seen a ghost being dismissed even while they ask for the disbelieving Horatio’s help. He--the “educated man”--needs something more than words: he needs the empirical evidence that comes with sight. He has to see the ghost for himself in order to believe the soldiers, and it is telling that the ghost first appears on stage right when Barnardo is about to tell Horatio how he first saw it. They see the ghost at midnight, again recalling MAAN in that Claudio “saw” Hero with another man at that same time of night, which alerted me that perhaps the appearance of the ghosts was a deception. Claudius also believes in empiricism, as evidenced when he says “for what we know must be, and is as common/As any the most vulgar thing to sense,” telling that Hamlet should stop mourning his father’s death because he can perceive through his senses that it is a natural occurrence. This affirms the difference between classes: both Claudio, the king, and Horatio, who goes to the same school as Hamlet (a nobleman?), appeal to the senses to determine truth and reality. But Hamlet despises Claudio. He cannot adhere to the same precepts that the man who married his mother one month after his father’s death does, and this is why he so readily accepts that Horatio and the soldiers have seen his father’s ghost--he asks them to repeat what they’ve revealed to him, but he never discredits them, as Horatio had. This is also why when he sees the ghost he automatically calls it “Hamlet, father, royal Dane” even though Horatio told him it was only “a figure like your father.” Hamlet does not act as someone in his class should. This is important to note, because at the end of Act I he again shows how he is willing to disobey class norms by “insisting on informality” and telling them they should all leave together. this makes me think that the following acts are going to be tricky: how is Horatio the empiricist supposed to believe in Hamlet’s sanity when he looks like he’s insane?
The disruption of knowledge is underscored by Fortinbras’s actions: he actively challenges the rules that have been set up to order the world. It is clear that (old) Hamlet gained Fortinbras’s former inheritance legally. He adhered to the “sealed compact” and “bonds of law” that (old) Norway had agreed to, and so in disputing this through war Fortinbras questions the very legitimacy of the Danish king, which is ironic because Claudius really is illegitimate. The disorder in the legal world is mirrored in both in the familial sphere and the realm of sexuality. The “natural” relationship between men and women is disrupted and Hamlet finds himself with this convoluted family in which Gertrude (his mother) is married to Claudius (his uncle and her brother-in-law) so that Hamlet is both his nephew and his son, which allows Hamlet to mock his biological mother by calling her his “good-mother,” his step-mother, all of which in turn informs his relationship with Ophelia.
In the play there is a focus on sight that seems to haunt every character. Gertrude was a “seeming virtuous queen,” they all “see” the ghost, Hamlet insists he does not “seem” grieved, but "is" grieved, the world “seems” unprofitable to him,” Horatio “knows” old Hamlet because he’s “seen” him once. I remember the central role the word “seem” played in MFM; it would be interesting to chart it’s usage through all Shakespeare’s plays.
Horatio is aware that this kind of knowledge is unsubstantiated, and that breeds a sort of skepticism in him. He qualifies the myth about the crowing cock by saying he only believes it “in part.” When the soldiers first approach him about the ghost, he does not believe them and tells them that they’ve had a “fantasy.” The soldiers, meanwhile, appeal to someone with an education, an upperclassman, to speak to the ghost. Knowledge, then, is determined by class, with the soldiers’ insistence that they’ve seen a ghost being dismissed even while they ask for the disbelieving Horatio’s help. He--the “educated man”--needs something more than words: he needs the empirical evidence that comes with sight. He has to see the ghost for himself in order to believe the soldiers, and it is telling that the ghost first appears on stage right when Barnardo is about to tell Horatio how he first saw it. They see the ghost at midnight, again recalling MAAN in that Claudio “saw” Hero with another man at that same time of night, which alerted me that perhaps the appearance of the ghosts was a deception. Claudius also believes in empiricism, as evidenced when he says “for what we know must be, and is as common/As any the most vulgar thing to sense,” telling that Hamlet should stop mourning his father’s death because he can perceive through his senses that it is a natural occurrence. This affirms the difference between classes: both Claudio, the king, and Horatio, who goes to the same school as Hamlet (a nobleman?), appeal to the senses to determine truth and reality. But Hamlet despises Claudio. He cannot adhere to the same precepts that the man who married his mother one month after his father’s death does, and this is why he so readily accepts that Horatio and the soldiers have seen his father’s ghost--he asks them to repeat what they’ve revealed to him, but he never discredits them, as Horatio had. This is also why when he sees the ghost he automatically calls it “Hamlet, father, royal Dane” even though Horatio told him it was only “a figure like your father.” Hamlet does not act as someone in his class should. This is important to note, because at the end of Act I he again shows how he is willing to disobey class norms by “insisting on informality” and telling them they should all leave together. this makes me think that the following acts are going to be tricky: how is Horatio the empiricist supposed to believe in Hamlet’s sanity when he looks like he’s insane?
The disruption of knowledge is underscored by Fortinbras’s actions: he actively challenges the rules that have been set up to order the world. It is clear that (old) Hamlet gained Fortinbras’s former inheritance legally. He adhered to the “sealed compact” and “bonds of law” that (old) Norway had agreed to, and so in disputing this through war Fortinbras questions the very legitimacy of the Danish king, which is ironic because Claudius really is illegitimate. The disorder in the legal world is mirrored in both in the familial sphere and the realm of sexuality. The “natural” relationship between men and women is disrupted and Hamlet finds himself with this convoluted family in which Gertrude (his mother) is married to Claudius (his uncle and her brother-in-law) so that Hamlet is both his nephew and his son, which allows Hamlet to mock his biological mother by calling her his “good-mother,” his step-mother, all of which in turn informs his relationship with Ophelia.
In the play there is a focus on sight that seems to haunt every character. Gertrude was a “seeming virtuous queen,” they all “see” the ghost, Hamlet insists he does not “seem” grieved, but "is" grieved, the world “seems” unprofitable to him,” Horatio “knows” old Hamlet because he’s “seen” him once. I remember the central role the word “seem” played in MFM; it would be interesting to chart it’s usage through all Shakespeare’s plays.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Noticing Systems of Class in Act V of A Midsummer Night's Dream
In Act V of A Midsummer Night's Dream, I thought that the details having to do with class structure seemed interesting. When the artisans put on their performance for the upper class, it seemed like the upper class took pity on them in a belittling fashion. The upper class didn't expect the lower class to be anything more than what they were. They saw them almost like children who were not capable of achieving certain things. Hippolyta even says, “Indeed, he hath played on this prologue like a child on a recorder...” in lines 122-123. The artisans are neither insulting due to their terrible performance, nor are they thought of as people who might benefit from an education in order to give a better performance in the future. Instead, they are laughed at or thought of as cute because they might now know any better. Everyone seems to be strictly bound to one level of the class structure with barely any room to change one's rank in society. The upper class maintains a certain amount of distance between themselves and the lower class, as well as a level of control by being more educated. In a similar way, the fairies maintain a certain amount of distance from the humans and a certain amount of control over their lives by having a distinct knowledge of love potions and magical powers that they feel completely fine about using on the humans without their knowledge.
I thought it was comical and interesting that in the Epilogue, Puck casually glosses over all of the ways in which the fairies may have truly interrupted and abused the lives of the humans by expressing a kind/politically correct apology, in a very professional or cocksure fashion, to anyone who may have been offended by the play. This just seems so hilarious! While I absolutely loved the fairies, it's interesting to see how issues of class were used for comedic purposes and what the characters got away with!
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
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.
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.
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