tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54092424563561174992024-03-14T05:25:13.776-04:00Shakespeare in a YearGetting to know the Bard one play at a time.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.comBlogger153125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-1889142223294621482011-10-11T13:28:00.002-04:002011-10-11T13:34:21.095-04:00Rounded with a SleepAs you might have noticed, this blog has been dormant for a few months. I had a whirlwind summer of travel through England, where I saw some fantastic Shakespeare plays, and then did my usual tour of the Shakespeare festivals and theaters in the Midwest. I thought every day about what I had learned during the "Shakespeare in a Year" project, and I can't thank you enough for sticking with me through this process.<br /><br />Now, it's time for the next phase of my education. I've just started an MFA program in creative writing, and that's where my energies are focused now. I have a vision for part two of the "Shakespeare in a Year" project, but it might have to wait a few years.<br /><br />Thank you again for sharing your insights into the plays and for constantly providing encouragement. I hope this project has reignited your passion for Shakespeare as much as it has mine.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-21490084423795445622011-06-23T18:49:00.002-04:002011-06-23T19:25:31.685-04:00Shakespeare at Mini UniversityThis week, I'm at <a href="http://alumni.indiana.edu/events/miniu/">Mini University</a>, an annual "lifelong learning" conference at Indiana University in Bloomington. We come to campus for a week, attending three different lectures each day from IU professors and other industry experts. That equals 15 fantastic nuggets of knowledge, on topics ranging from space exploration to Mexican immigration.<br /><br />This year, two of my 15 sessions were related to Shakespeare -- perhaps because I wrote, on my evaluation last year, that I wanted "as much Shakespeare as possible."<br /><br />My first session, taught by actress Fontaine Syer, was titled "Shakespeare in Performance," and she emphasized right away that she was an actress rather than a scholar. She discussed some of the things actors consider as they prepare for a Shakespeare role, including the need to discover new layers in the text -- especially because Shakespeare's work is "the most elastic text in the world," she said.<br /><br />Another consideration: How to perform the soliloquies. Is the actor talking to himself, to a higher power, or directly to the audience? Should a soliloquy in <span style="font-style: italic;">Richard III</span>, for example, be performed the same way as a soliloquy in <span style="font-style: italic;">Hamlet</span>? Interesting question.<br /><br />Here is my favorite quote from the session: "If you're in love with Shakespeare, you'll be in love with him for your whole life," Syer said. "The more you learn, the more there is to learn." (You and I already knew that, didn't we?)<br /><br />Today I attended "<span style="font-style: italic;">Merchant of Venice</span> and Early English Antisemitism" with professor Ellen MacKay. She started by describing the pervasive antisemitism in early modern England, including the "blood libel" claim that Jews killed young children and used their blood and bones in Passover matzoh. MacKay explained this rumor as a displacement of Catholics' own cannibalistic queasiness about transubstantiation (the communion wafer turning into the body of Christ).<br /><br />Also at play: Many Christians condemned Jews for betraying Jesus based on the Passion narratives of that time. Jews were also condemned as usurers, even though they had been backed into that profession because Christians were forbidden to loan money with interest.<br /><br />Shakespeare may also have been influenced by the Lopez plot, in which Queen Elizabeth's Jewish physician was (probably falsely) accused of trying to poison her and subsequently executed. And, Shakespeare was certainly familiar with Christopher Marlowe's <span style="font-style: italic;">Jew of Malta</span>, which he both echoes and transcends in his own play.<br /><br />(As Syer said yesterday in relation to the authorship controversies, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Marlowe?</span> Come on. Who ever heard of a Marlowe theater festival?")<br /><br />In the midst of pervasive antisemitism, Shakespeare created a character who reflected some Jewish stereotypes but refuted others. As we've already noticed, Shylock makes some pointed critiques of his Venetian (and, by extension, Elizabethan English) society. He does play the villain, but he is not wholly unsympathetic.<br /><br />MacKay pointed out that Shakespeare could have made Shylock a more definitive villain by making his daughter, Jessica, more sympathetic. And yet we have a character who steals money and spends it wastefully, carelessly gives away mementos from her dead mother and elopes with a guy she barely knows. She claims that living with Shylock is terrible, but how much can we trust her?<br /><br />Other things to think about: The nature of bonds and contracts in <span style="font-style: italic;">Merchant of Venice</span> (friend to friend, spouse to spouse, parent to child, borrower to lender and servant to master) and the culpability of Venetian authorities, who easily could have found a way to release Antonio from his bond without Portia's intervention.<br /><br />I'll be considering those questions -- and many more from my other classes this week -- until it's time for next year's Mini University. For more information on my non-Shakespeare classes this week, stop by my lifelong learning blog, <a href="http://www.thatllteachme.com">That'll Teach Me</a>.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-18356998913434776272011-06-12T11:51:00.005-04:002011-06-12T12:19:42.319-04:00Why "Shakespeare in a Year" MattersFor weeks, I've been struggling with what to say in this "wrap up" post. After a year of Shakespeare immersion, I feel pressured to say something profound about what I've learned and how it has affected my life. A project like this has immense value; I know this deep down, but it's hard to explain.<br /><br />The most obvious effect of the "Shakespeare in a Year" project is my (somewhat obnoxious) ability to use Shakespeare quotes in arguments. When my husband says, "We really don't need that," I can counter, "Oh, reason not the need! Our basest beggars are in the poorest things superfluous." Sometimes that argument even works.<br /><br />Another obvious result of this project is that I am, unquestionably, more knowledgeable about Shakespeare and his work than I was before. When I first started attending the Stratford Shakespeare Festival five years ago, I was awed by the Bard-related conversations I heard around me at restaurants and theaters. (Yes, I'm a chronic eavesdropper.) Now, after this project, I feel right at home amidst these Shakespeare lovers.<br /><br />In fact, when I attended <span style="font-style: italic;">Merry Wives of Windsor</span> a few weeks ago, I was shocked to hear a woman behind me say, "Now, who wrote this play again?" Her companion must have looked at the playbill. "See here," she said, "it says Shakespeare." How that woman got to the play without knowing who wrote it, I'll never understand.<br /><br />At intermission, the woman next to me said to her husband, "Huh, I thought Falstaff died offstage at the beginning." Wrong play, honey.<br /><br />Now, I don't think these playgoers were representative of the festival crowd, which in general is quite well-informed. But those two incidents made me realize that I am now safely among the well-informed playgoers, which is a nice accomplishment on its own.<br /><br />Some Shakespeare scholars are accused of "bardolatry," i.e., blind worship of the Bard. When I started this project, I was guilty as charged. Now, however, my perspective on Shakespeare is more balanced. Yes, I'm still awed by <span style="font-style: italic;">King Lear</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Hamlet</span>. On the other hand, I can say without reservations that <span style="font-style: italic;">Merry Wives of Windsor</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Troilus and Cressida </span>are terrible plays, that I really don't care for Shakespeare's narrative poetry, and that there is something deeply wrong with the so-called "problem plays." Shakespeare was a literary genius, but he wasn't infallible. Unlike some of the scholars whose work I read this year, I'm not going to make excuses for, or try to explain away, Shakespeare's mistakes.<br /><br />In the end, why does it matter? After four centuries, why is Shakespeare's work still relevant, and what does it have to teach us? To answer, I must borrow a phrase from Harold Bloom: Shakespeare teaches us what it means to be human. More than any other author, he shows us the "mingled yarn, good and ill together" of our consciousness. With Shakespeare, as in life, there are never any easy answers.<br /><br />It is bittersweet to know that I have read every extant Shakespeare work -- that I will never again hang on tenterhooks to know whether Romeo and Juliet live happily ever after or whether Benedick and Beatrice get together. I know all of the stories now, and there's something sad about that.<br /><br />On the other hand, with a Shakespeare play, knowing the plot is just the beginning; the Bard "borrowed" most of his plots from other sources anyway. Now that we've read everything at least once, we now need a new goal: to mine the rich depths of every play, to continually explore new possibilities and perspectives.<br /><br />This blog will remain active for that exact purpose: To chronicle my ongoing Shakespeare journey through re-readings of the play, exploration of scholarly analysis, and ongoing reviews of Shakespeare productions across the globe.<br /><br />This summer, look for updates from the Stratford Shakespeare Festival in Ontario, the American Players Theatre in Wisconsin and the Cincinnati Shakespeare Company. Join me on a week-long London theater extravaganza, which will include David Tennant's <span style="font-style: italic;">Much Ado About Nothing</span> and Kevin Spacey's <span style="font-style: italic;">Richard III</span>. And, join me at Oxford University for a week-long continuing-education course about Shakespeare's London.<br /><br />We've come to the end of our "Shakespeare in a Year" project, but the real education is just beginning.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-64136934421299283552011-05-29T11:59:00.002-04:002011-05-29T11:59:00.925-04:00Discussion: The Tempest<span style="font-weight: bold;">The play:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">The Tempest</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The plot tweet:</span> Marooned and usurped duke Prospero uses magic powers -- and Ariel's help -- to be "revenged" on his enemies and find husband for Miranda.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">My favorite line:</span><br />My library was dukedom large enough.<br /><br />---<br /><br />I have a special place in my heart for Shakespeare's most magical plays<span style="font-style: italic;">, Midsummer </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">Tempest</span>. If you'll forgive the pun, these plays bewitch me, and they reawaken my wonder at what can be accomplished on a little wooden stage.<br /><br />Since we learned our lesson last week about autobiographical readings of Shakespeare's work, let's soundly reject the traditional view that <span style="font-style: italic;">The Tempest</span> is Shakespeare's farewell to the stage -- especially since we now know that he wrote other plays afterward. But it's hard, isn't it? It's hard to read lines like this and not see a double meaning:<br /><blockquote>... These our actors,<br />As I foretold you, were all spirits, and<br />Are melted into air, into thin air,<br />And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,<br />The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,<br />The solemn temples, <span style="font-weight: bold;">the great globe itself</span>,<br />Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,<br />And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,<br />Leave not a rack behind.</blockquote>It's hard to imagine that Shakespeare -- who surely knew he was nearing retirement -- didn't feel a double meaning in these lines. But, as Oprah said in her farewell show this week, "When you know better, you do better." Thanks to James Shapiro, we now know better, so we'll set the autobiographical implications aside.<br /><br />I'm also deeply uncomfortable with readings of this play (or any Shakespeare play) that impose the reader's own ideology, be it feminist criticism, Marxist criticism or what have you. Some scholars read this play as a critique of colonialism and set up Caliban as the hero, defending his island from colonization. I can't accept this reading. Caliban has few redeeming qualities; instead he is both an attempted murderer and an attempted rapist. We have no reason to suppose that Shakespeare intended us to side with Caliban -- unless we are prepared to twist the play to suit our own views.<br /><br />If <span style="font-style: italic;">The Tempest</span> is neither a colonialist critique nor an artist's farewell to the stage, what is it?<br /><br />First, it is one of just a handful of Shakespeare's plays to observe the three classical unities of action, time and space. (<span style="font-style: italic;">Comedy of Errors</span> is another.) It's interesting to me that Shakespeare would return to this idea late in his career. He seems to be returning to the classical roots of his art. The effect on the audience is to make them participants in the magic of the play, because they are experiencing the onstage events in real time.<br /><br />Second, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Tempest</span> shares many themes, such as reunion, forgiveness and redemption, with the other late romances. But, rather than show us the entire back story, as <span style="font-style: italic;">The Winter's Tale</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Pericles</span> do, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Tempest</span> skips over the first part of its own story, bringing us directly to the moment of reunion.<br /><br />These two factors combine to create a real intensity, beyond what I normally feel in a Shakespearean "comedy." Prospero is in charge here, and every moment he is moving us closer to the grand culmination of his plot.<br /><br />Here's something I haven't yet decided: At what point does Prospero abandon his plan for revenge and choose the "rarer action" of forgiveness? If he intends to destroy everyone, why not just wreck the ship at the beginning? That's not his plan at all, of course; he intends all along for Ferdinand and Miranda to meet and fall in love. But what had he planned to do to the others, once they were within his power, before Ariel changed his mind? I'd love to invite Prospero to a dinner party and ask him that. I'll bet it would have been good.<br /><br />Coming to the end of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Tempest</span> -- and the end of our "Shakespeare in a Year" challenge -- is a bittersweet moment. In a few days, I'll do another post about the overall challenge. For now, I'm still absorbing the idea that I will never read anything new by Shakespeare, unless some dotty English matron finds <span style="font-style: italic;">Cardenio</span> in her attic. On the other hand, the magic of Shakespeare is that his work, even after four centuries, continues to be new every time it is read and performed.<br /><br />Thank you, Will, for an incredible journey.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-87739669247390435972011-05-23T08:00:00.000-04:002011-05-23T08:00:09.737-04:00Stratford Shakespeare Festival: Merry Wives of WindsorFor several months, I've been withholding final judgment on <span style="font-style: italic;">Merry Wives of Windsor</span>. Although I've recently seen productions at <a href="http://www.cincyshakes.com/">Cincinnati Shakespeare Company</a> and the <a href="http://thefestival.org/">Illinois Shakespeare Festival</a>, I knew this season's production at the <a href="http://www.stratfordfestival.ca/">Stratford Shakespeare Festival</a> had the best chance of making me finally like this play. (And why not? It worked for <span style="font-style: italic;">As You Like It</span> last year.)<br /><br />My devotion to the Stratford Shakespeare Festival isn't far from idolatry. So, I must clarify that there is absolutely nothing wrong with its <span style="font-style: italic;">Merry Wives</span> production. The scenery is breath-taking, the costumes are perfect and the acting is superb (with a few minor exceptions). The production stars two of my favorite festival actors, Geraint Wyn Davies<a href="http://www.stratfordfestival.ca/OnStage/productions.aspx?id=11118&prodid=36298&id2=929"></a> and Tom Rooney (who completely steals the show as Ford), and the production sticks close to the letter and spirit of Shakespeare's text.<br /><br />Which is, actually, the problem. Shakespeare can be riotously funny -- as any good production of <span style="font-style: italic;">Comedy of Errors</span> makes clear. But that comic genius never emerges in <span style="font-style: italic;">Merry Wives</span>. Shakespeare can create memorable, lifelike characters, including the Falstaff of the Henry IV plays -- but those characters never come to life in <span style="font-style: italic;">Merry Wives</span>, not even Falstaff himself. Shakespeare can provide striking and startling insights into human nature -- but he doesn't bother to do so in this play.<br /><br />Now that I've seen the Stratford production, I can finally say this with confidence: I <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> don't like <span style="font-style: italic;">Merry Wives of Windsor</span>. It is one of my least favorite plays in the Shakespeare canon (just barely ahead of <span style="font-style: italic;">Troilus and Cressida</span>). If it disappeared forever, I wouldn't really mind.<br /><br />The playbill for the Stratford production explains that the play is derided by scholars and readers but is a favorite of theater audiences. I've now seen the play three times in one year, and I'm not sure that statement is true. Even the best possible production -- and the Stratford production comes pretty close -- can't change my mind about this weak entry in the Shakespeare canon.<br /><br />P.S. As a side note, I also saw the Stratford productions of <span style="font-style: italic;">Camelot</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Jesus Christ Superstar</span> this weekend, and they are both <span style="font-style: italic;">fantastic</span>. Highly recommended.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-36691981344883660562011-05-22T15:00:00.002-04:002011-05-22T15:00:02.033-04:00This Week's Reading Assignment(Drum roll, please.) Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the final week of the "Shakespeare in a Year" challenge. This week's adventure is, of course, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Tempest</span>, which has traditionally been viewed as Shakespeare's farewell to the stage.<br /><br />As always, we'll start the discussion next Sunday at noon. It will be our final discussion, so let's make it a great one!<br /><br />P.S. I know, I know, it's not the last play Shakespeare wrote. We already know that he later collaborated with Fletcher on <span style="font-style: italic;">Two Noble Kinsmen, Henry VIII</span> and the lost <span style="font-style: italic;">Cardenio</span>. So it's not technically Shakespeare's farewell to the stage, and some of you will accuse me of being overly romantic and sentimental in my scheduling choice here. To those people, I say, "Yep." My project, my schedule. :o)Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-40355506503431089212011-05-22T11:59:00.003-04:002011-05-22T11:59:00.044-04:00Discussion: Contested WillThis weekend, I'm making my annual pilgrimage to the <a href="http://www.stratfordfestival.ca/">Stratford Shakespeare Festival</a>, one of the best classical theaters in North America. I am so madly in love with this place; one of these days I'm just going to stay.<br /><br />Within walking distance of my historic hotel are some of the best restaurants in Ontario, some of the cutest boutiques I've ever seen, and four of the continent's best theaters. The best part of being here, however, is that the entire community is built around a passion for theater. Being here means being part of a community that eats, sleeps and breathes Shakespeare.<br /><br />Reading James Shapiro's <span style="font-style: italic;">Contested Will: Who Wrote Shakespeare</span> this weekend in Stratford, I realized why the Shakespeare authorship controversy bothers me so much: The conspiracy theorists create a rift in the global Shakespeare community, forcing us to argue about Shakespeare rather than appreciating, debating and studying his works. Furthermore, as Shapiro points out, the conspiracy theorists denigrate the very things that made Shakespeare unique -- his boundless imagination and his understanding of human nature.<br /><br />For the record, I'm a confident Stratfordian, which means I believe William Shakespeare's poems and plays were actually written by Shakespeare, as opposed to Edward de Vere, Francis Bacon, Christopher Marlowe or any of the dozens of others whose names have been suggested. At the moment, the Oxfordians are the most vocal bunch.<br /><br />For the sake of my own sanity, I'm not going to nitpick the Oxfordian point of view here. The Oxfordians are well organized online, and they are adept at picking fights with bloggers who disagree with their cause -- as a simple Google search will show. There is no reason to rehash the same old arguments here. Shapiro has already done an excellent job of picking the Oxfordian viewpoint apart (as did Bill Bryson in his excellent biography of Shakespeare).<br /><br />But I do understand the desire to <span style="font-style: italic;">know</span> Shakespeare -- and the frustration people feel with the disconnect between the documentary evidence of Shakespeare's life (mostly legal papers) and the genius revealed in his plays. It's hard to imagine that the author of <span style="font-style: italic;">Hamlet </span>would have a neighbor arrested over a debt of just a few pounds. For some, it's also hard to imagine that a provincial actor with little formal education could write so eloquently about foreign travels and life at court (which is, quite frankly, pure snobbery). From there, as Shapiro says, it's just a short leap to believing that we must be dealing with two different men.<br /><br />As Shapiro points out, one of the fundamental problems here is an underlying assumption -- made by Stratfordians and Oxfordians alike -- that the works are autobiographical. (Autobiographical works are commonplace now but were almost unheard of in Shakespeare's day.) Even Shapiro has been guilty of this mistake: "I flinch when I think of my own trespasses," he writes, perhaps in reference to his recent book <span style="font-style: italic;">1599: A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare</span>.<br /><br />I'm guilty as charged. I, too, assumed the plays and poems were at least partly autobiographical, and I have said several times during the "Shakespeare in a Year" project that reading the complete works has been like "getting to know" Shakespeare. After reading <span style="font-style: italic;">Contested Will</span>, I realize the limitations of that statement -- and am finally aware of the unconscious assumptions I have been making as a reader.<br /><br />We won't be able to persuade the Oxfordians (or the Marlovians or the Baconians) to become Stratfordians. (One can't have a reasonable argument with an unreasonable person.) But we <span style="font-style: italic;">can</span> be more careful, as readers, not to assume that the complete works of Shakespeare are a kind of life story. It's so tempting to do, because we want so desperately to have those glimpses into Shakespeare's mind. Still, it's a habit we must break. Shakespeare is long gone, and we must judge his literary legacy on its own merits.<br /><br />P.S. If you ever get to Stratford, go to <a href="http://www.theparlour.ca/">the Parlour</a> and order this. It is quite possibly my favorite food on this planet.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i_AKoGZjlj8/TdiObGAnLQI/AAAAAAAAAek/5kalhk0n6_E/s1600/Pavlova.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i_AKoGZjlj8/TdiObGAnLQI/AAAAAAAAAek/5kalhk0n6_E/s200/Pavlova.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609389932010745090" border="0" /></a>Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-4724833401427864492011-05-16T08:00:00.000-04:002011-05-16T08:00:12.171-04:00A Monday DistractionWant to feel good about what we've accomplished so far? Take a look at the <a href="http://www.shakespeareinayear.com/2010/05/checklist.html">Challenge Checklist</a>. It's hard to believe we have just one play to go!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-19018234363579517582011-05-15T15:00:00.003-04:002011-05-15T15:00:00.640-04:00This Week's Reading AssignmentI can hardly believe it: We have just two weeks remaining in the "Shakespeare in a Year" challenge, and just one Shakespeare play to go (<span style="font-style: italic;">The Tempest</span>). Time flies when you're having fun!<br /><br />If you've done the basic math, you know we have a spare week. Here's what we're going to do: We're going to put these Shakespeare authorship conspiracy theories to rest. Our reading for this week is "Contested Will: Who Wrote Shakespeare?" by James Shapiro.<br /><br />To appease the Oxfordians who show up on this blog whenever Edward de Vere is mentioned (that Google alert is working pretty well for you guys, huh?), I'm also posting a link to the Shakespeare Oxford Society's <a href="http://shakespeareoxfordsociety.wordpress.com/2010/03/17/hunter-reviews-contested-will/">review of the book</a>. The reviewer seems pretty mad, which I'm taking as a good sign that I'll agree with Shapiro's conclusion.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-84221762543348868182011-05-15T11:59:00.003-04:002011-05-15T11:59:19.989-04:00Discussion: Double Falsehood<span style="font-weight: bold;">The play:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Double Falsehood</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The plot tweet:</span> Duke's son rapes Violante and woos friend Julio's love, Leonora. After botched wedding and some wandering, it ends with marriages all around.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">My favorite line:</span> n/a<br /><br />---<br /><br />The Arden third series has long been my preferred Shakespeare text (and not just because it has the best paper for underlining and making notes), and I tend to trust the decisions made by its editors. So, when Arden released <span style="font-style: italic;">Double Falsehood</span> last year, I thought, "Okay, maybe there's something to this idea that the play is based on Shakespeare and Fletcher's lost <span style="font-style: italic;">Cardenio</span>."<br /><br />Let me just say this: If the Arden editors are right about this, I'm not sure I want to be right. The obvious Shakespeare touches are there -- the heroine disguised as a boy, the overbearing parent forcing a daughter to wed, the escape into a pastoral setting. These are touches that would be easy for Lewis Theobald to fake.<br /><br />What can't be faked is Shakespeare's genius for characterization and his brilliant bursts of poetry -- neither of which are present in this play.<br /><br />The Arden editor, Brean Hammond, gives a very guarded endorsement of this play's Shakespearean heritage:<br /><blockquote>Finding a manuscript of the lost <span style="font-style: italic;">Cardenio</span> would be the only way of proving beyond all doubt that Theobald did not forge it. I cannot claim to have achieved that, but I hope that this edition reinforces the accumulating consensus that the lost play has a continuing presence in its eighteenth-century great-grandchild.</blockquote>If you'd like to draw your own conclusions, give Hammond's introduction a thorough read. In the meantime, I'm choosing to withhold my endorsement. With any luck, some dotty English matron will find a copy of <span style="font-style: italic;">Cardenio</span> stashed in her attic, and we can finally have the real play instead.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-86056093110888314572011-05-08T15:00:00.001-04:002011-05-08T15:00:00.462-04:00This Week's Reading AssignmentAs we've seen, <span style="font-style: italic;">Edward III</span> has a reasonable claim to Shakespearean authorship (at least in part). This week's play, <span style="font-style: italic;">Double Falsehood</span>, is definitely not by Shakespeare, but it is allegedly based on the lost <span style="font-style: italic;">Cardenio</span>, which Shakespeare co-authored with John Fletcher.<br /><br />The play has been in the news a lot lately, with a flurry of recent productions and a new Arden edition of the text, so it seems like a timely play to include on our agenda.<br /><br />After this, we have just two weeks left. Can you believe it? I think we're actually going to pull this off. As a heads up, next week's reading isn't a play at all, but rather <span style="font-style: italic;">Contested Will: Who Wrote Shakespeare?</span> by James Shapiro. If you don't have it, go find a copy!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-1661211023595328732011-05-08T11:59:00.001-04:002011-05-08T11:59:00.650-04:00Discussion: Edward III<span style="font-weight: bold;">The play:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Edward III</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The plot tweet:</span> English battle both Scots and French; Edward takes a break to woo a married woman. Rejected, he heads to France, gives son a trial by fire.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">My favorite line:</span><br /> ... Shall I not<br />Master this little mansion of myself?<br /><br />---<br /><br />We're almost at the end of our Shakespeare in a Year journey, but with this play we're back at the beginning. This play was written early in Shakespeare's career, almost certainly as a collaboration, and it reminds me very much of his other early history plays.<br /><br />The authorship of <span style="font-style: italic;">Edward III</span> is hotly disputed, with many critics refusing to acknowledge it as Shakespearean. According to my edition of the play (the New Cambridge Shakespeare), there is some scholarly consensus that Shakespeare wrote 1.2, 2.1, 2.2 and 4.4 -- the Countess of Salisbury scenes and the taunting of Prince Edward by his French foes. Yet the play was printed anonymously in both 1596 and 1599, and it doesn't appear in the First Folio of 1623.<br /><br />The New Cambridge editor makes a persuasive argument about this: The play was "forgotten" by Shakespeare and his contemporaries because, in the later years of Elizabeth's reign, there was a crackdown on derogatory stage portrayals of Scots. That obviously continued when James I (also James VI of Scotland) ascended the English throne. So, when the First Folio was being assembled a quarter-century later, it's not surprising that its compilers would forget one of Shakespeare's earliest plays, a collaboration that hadn't been performed in decades.<br /><br />Either way, this<span style="font-style: italic;"> feels</span> like an early Shakespearean history play to me, with similar language and themes. It's no secret that the history plays aren't my favorites, but <span style="font-style: italic;">Edward III</span> seems to move more quickly, and Prince Edward's bravery is a nice preview of Henry V.<br /><br />I'm not sure how to feel about Edward III here. His interlude with the Countess of Salisbury (while he has a pregnant wife at home), his refusal to send help to his son during a battle, his alternating cruelty and mercy toward the French citizens -- I don't know the actual history here, but doesn't this guy seem like kind of a snake? If you're better schooled in British history than I am, please advise.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-9946703726598092262011-05-02T11:29:00.002-04:002011-05-02T11:30:13.073-04:00A Monday DistractionLook what my Google alert found: A sound clip of <a href="http://www.mediabistro.com/galleycat/alan-rickman-reads-sonnet-130-by-william-shakespeare_b28491">Alan Rickman reading</a> Shakepeare's sonnet 130. Enjoy!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-35044601732235524802011-05-01T15:00:00.000-04:002011-05-01T15:00:01.441-04:00This Week's Reading AssignmentWe've read many plays wholly by Shakespeare and several plays partly by Shakespeare. This week, we're going to read a non-canonical play, i.e., a play whose Shakespearean authorship is questionable. <span style="font-style: italic;">Edward III </span>is almost certainly not in your <span style="font-style: italic;">Complete Works</span>, so head to the library or read it <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1770">online here</a>.<br /><br />Yes, I know, we could probably get away with skipping it. But after working so hard on the Shakespeare in a Year project, you might look back years from now -- when perhaps this play will be part of the official canon -- and think, "Darn, we almost made it, except for <span style="font-style: italic;">Edward III</span>." You don't want that, and neither do I. Consider it insurance.<br /><br />(I will understand, however, if you can't get to it this week because you're too busy watching the royal wedding over and over again ... or shopping for hats.)Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-23276352639911876622011-05-01T11:59:00.000-04:002011-05-01T23:20:03.532-04:00Discussion: The Two Noble Kinsmen<span style="font-weight: bold;">The play:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">The Two Noble Kinsmen</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The plot tweet:</span> Two cousins fall for the same girl, defy prison and banishment to be with her. A duel decides it, but the gods have sneaky plans.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">My favorite line:</span><br />This world's a city full of straying streets,<br />And death's the market-place where each one meets.<br /><br />---<br /><br />Here we have an interesting reboot of some very early Shakespearean plot lines, including the <span style="font-style: italic;">Midsummer</span> love rectangle framed by the wedding of Theseus and Hippolyta. The jailer's daughter echoes both Ophelia and Desdemona, and the two kinsmen echo the earlier gentlemen of Verona, who also fall for the same girl.<br /><br />To me, though, something seems off. The play veers from tragedy to farce too quickly, and not in a coherent, intentional tragicomic way. Am I supposed to be laughing out loud at the scene where Arcite and Palamon swear their undying love and then see Emilia and instantly start threatening to kill each other? (I am.) Am I supposed to think the deceitful "cure" of the jailer's daughter is funny? (I don't.) Either the tone here is odd and uneven or I am misreading this play.<br /><br />It makes sense for the play to be uneven, though, both because it was co-authored by Shakespeare and Fletcher and because it was first published -- with who knows how many revisions -- long after both men had died.<br /><br />Scholars have more or less come to agreement about which scenes are Fletcher's and which are Shakespeare's, and no doubt your edition mentions this somewhere in the introduction or notes. At the moment, just consider this: If this is the last play Shakespeare wrote (and it probably is), and if Fletcher wrote the epilogue (and he probably did), then the final lines Shakespeare wrote in his long, successful career are spoken by Theseus in 5.4:<br /><br /><blockquote>Oh, you heavenly charmers,<br />What things you make of us! For what we lack<br />We laugh, for what we have are sorry, still<br />Are children in some kind. Let us be thankful<br />For that which is, and with you leave dispute<br />That are above our question. Let's go off<br />And bear us like the time.</blockquote><br /><br />I'm just going to leave it at that.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-47982449340835002242011-04-24T15:00:00.001-04:002011-04-24T15:00:03.648-04:00This Week's Reading AssignmentIt's time this week for Shakespeare's other surviving collaboration with John Fletcher, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Two Noble Kinsmen</span>. I've never read this play, but it's said to contain a more distinct Fletcherian style than <span style="font-style: italic;">Henry VIII</span>. Let's see if we agree.<br /><br />P.S. Coming up, we're going to read a few non-canonical works, including <span style="font-style: italic;">Edward III </span>and<span style="font-style: italic;"> Double Falsehood.</span> These certainly aren't in your <span style="font-style: italic;">Complete Works</span>, so it's time for a visit to your favorite library or bookstore.<br /><br />It's a good thing I already bought my copies, because I'm not allowed in any bookstores after last week's frenzy at a Borders liquidation sale:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xGBkJTQKaoM/TbL6GZDnklI/AAAAAAAAAec/kPfIp6h8MBU/s1600/Borders%2BHaul.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 149px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xGBkJTQKaoM/TbL6GZDnklI/AAAAAAAAAec/kPfIp6h8MBU/s200/Borders%2BHaul.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598812274487169618" border="0" /></a>Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-64167715494467282782011-04-24T11:59:00.003-04:002011-04-24T11:59:00.726-04:00Discussion: Henry VIII<span style="font-weight: bold;">The play:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Henry VIII</span> or <span style="font-style: italic;">All is True</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The plot tweet:</span> In idealized reign of Henry VIII, great people fall and Anne Boleyn gives birth to glorious future queen. No mention of upcoming beheading.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">My favorite line:</span><br />I know myself now, and I feel within me<br />A peace above all earthly dignities,<br />A still and quiet conscience.<br /><br />---<br /><br />More than any other Shakespeare play, <span style="font-style: italic;">Henry VIII</span> needs to be seen rather than read. The pomp and pageantry, buried in dry stage directions within the text, can no doubt be breath-taking on stage. Likewise, characters whose speeches are ambiguous, especially the king, can be "filled out" on stage. Is Henry a corrupt and lusty king or a pious ruler who fears for the future of his kingdom? That's a question any good stage production would answer.<br /><br />This is Shakespeare's final history play, written toward the end of his life in collaboration with John Fletcher (with whom he also collaborated on <span style="font-style: italic;">Two Noble Kinsmen</span>). Some scholars hate it because it is episodic and lacks a central character. Other scholars, like the editor of my Arden edition, see it as the glorious "grand finale of Shakespeare's history plays."<br /><br />I'm withholding judgment until I see the <a href="http://www.cincyshakes.com/">Cincinnati Shakespeare Company</a>'s production of the play next January. I want to see the masques and processionals, hear the tone Anne Boleyn uses when she claims she doesn't want to be queen, see how Henry reacts when Katherine refuses Wolsey as her judge. More than any other play, <span style="font-style: italic;">Henry VIII</span> leaves these questions for the production to decide.<br /><br />One thing that fascinates me about this play, though, is the immediacy of the action to Shakespeare's own time. Queen Elizabeth, whose birth is celebrated as just shy of miraculous, died in 1603, and this play premiered at the Globe ten years later, in 1613. (We know the exact year because the Globe burned down during one of the first performances.) At the time, the reigning king (who was patron of Shakespeare's theater company) was Elizabeth's cousin and a descendant of Henry VII. In other words, Shakespeare had to walk a fine line here, which is probably why the king and Anne Boleyn come off better in this play than they do in historical accounts.<br /><br />What, then, was Shakespeare trying to say with the play's original title, <span style="font-style: italic;">All is True</span>? Is it his smartypants way of admitting that the play is a fabrication to make the Tudors look good? Or, is he saying that the characters' perspectives are all accurate in their own way? Once again, I'm withholding judgment until I see this play on stage. No pressure, Cincy Shakes.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-83891990348342607902011-04-23T08:00:00.003-04:002011-04-23T08:00:04.592-04:00Happy Birthday to the Real ShakespeareToday is William Shakespeare's birthday--and, if you happen to live in Illinois, it's also Talk Like Shakespeare Day. This seems like a good day to remember that Shakespeare was a real, living, breathing person, not a pseudonym.<br /><br />An upcoming film, "Anonymous," will make the case for Edward de Vere's authorship of Shakespeare's work. This really gets me steamed, so I'm trying to ignore the whole to-do as much as possible. But the film prompted <a href="http://www.eadt.co.uk/news/features/will_the_real_william_shakespeare_please_stand_up_1_873606">this excellent column</a> defending Shakespeare's authorship, and I wanted to share it with you all.<br /><br />Can we all make a pact to completely ignore this ridiculous film, which might make the authorship conspiracy theories a topic of everyday conversation? The last thing I want is to say, "Hey, I'm reading the complete works of Shakespeare this year," and have everyone else say, "Hey, what's up with this Edward de Vere guy?" Nothing. Nothing is up with him at all. End of story.<br /><br />Anyway, happy birthday, Will!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-52907863887577159102011-04-17T15:00:00.003-04:002011-04-17T15:00:03.686-04:00This Week's Reading AssignmentLadies and gentlemen, it's time for our final history play: <span style="font-style: italic;">Henry VIII: All is True</span>.<br /><br />This is one of several plays for which Shakespeare allegedly collaborated with John Fletcher (along with <span style="font-style: italic;">Two Noble Kinsmen</span> and the now-lost <span style="font-style: italic;">Cardenio</span>). It was written in 1613, just a few years before Shakespeare's death. We can date it with such certainty because the Globe burned to the ground during one of the play's first performances. (And yet <span style="font-style: italic;">Macbeth</span> is the play with the theater curse?!)<br /><br />This play doesn't get staged much, but the <a href="http://cincyshakes.com/">Cincinnati Shakespeare Company</a> is doing it this season as part of its canon completion project (with <span style="font-style: italic;">A Man for All Seasons</span> as a companion piece). If you live in the Midwest, this is a rare chance to catch this play in production.<br /><br />As always, we'll start our discussion at noon next Sunday. Enjoy!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-25725420941117493282011-04-17T11:59:00.003-04:002011-04-17T11:59:00.681-04:00Discussion: A Funeral Elegy<span style="font-weight: bold;">The poem:</span> "A Funeral Elegy"<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">My favorite line:</span><br />When all shall turn to dust from whence we came<br />And we low-level'd in a narrow grave,<br />What can we leave behind us but a name,<br />Which, by a life well led, may honor have?<br /><br />---<br /><br />Oh, man.<br /><br />When I assigned this reading last week, I knew its authorship was debated. (It was published in 1612 by a mysterious W.S.) What I <span style="font-style: italic;">didn't</span> realize is that this poem is a key sticking point for the Oxfordian camp, who claim that Edward de Vere, the 17th earl of Oxford, actually wrote Shakespeare's work.<br /><br />It's pretty simple, really. This poem was clearly written in 1612, shortly after William Peter was murdered, and Edward de Vere was long dead by then. The logic pattern here is: The earl was actually "Shakespeare," but he was already dead, so clearly this poem is not by "Shakespeare." (<a href="http://www.shakespearefellowship.org/virtualclassroom/DLWrightFuneralElegy.htm">Here</a> is a summary of the Oxfordian perspective.)<br /><br />The authorship issue was hotly debated in the late 1990s, when <span style="font-style: italic;">Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900</span> published an essay suggesting Shakespeare's authorship (Richard Abrams, "WS's 'Funeral Elegy' and the Turn from the Theatrical," Spring 1996). Donald Foster's book, <span style="font-style: italic;">Elegy by W.S.: A Study in Attribution</span>, also comes down on Shakespeare's side. In <span style="font-style: italic;">Guilty Creatures: Renaissance Poetry and the Ethics of Authorship</span>, writer Dennis Kezar speaks of the poem's "emerging Shakespearean canonicity."<br /><br />I've made <a href="http://www.shakespeareinayear.com/2010/11/discussion-works-of-marlowe.html">my thoughts</a> on Oxfordian/Marlovian/Baconian authorship conspiracy theories pretty clear. In brief: They're a giant load of crap. But even if we rightly believe that Shakespeare authored his own work, we still can't say for certain that this poem is his. Maybe W.S. stands for Wilbur Smith or Wilhelmina Stout.<br /><br />I'm kind of hoping that's the case, because this poem bores me to tears. It does, however, carry through some of the themes Shakespeare discussed in his sonnets. What do you think? Does this poem "sound" like Shakespeare to you?Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-79245522585080009202011-04-10T15:00:00.000-04:002011-04-10T15:00:00.149-04:00This Week's Reading AssignmentWe're almost there: Just a few collaborations, non-canonical works and <span style="font-style: italic;">The Tempest</span> to go. This week, let's take a quick break from the plays and focus on the final remaining poem, "<a href="http://shakespeare.mit.edu/Poetry/elegy.html">A Funeral Elegy</a>." The authorship is debated, so let's see what judgments we can make about it based on our new-found knowledge of Shakespeare's work.<br /><br />Enjoy this week's short assignment!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-49133818662066003812011-04-10T11:59:00.001-04:002011-04-10T11:59:00.955-04:00Discussion: The Winter's Tale<span style="font-weight: bold;">The play: </span><span style="font-style: italic;">The Winter's Tale</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The plot tweet:</span> Leontes' jealous rage = dead son, "dead" queen, banished daughter, 16 years of remorse. But, as a late romance, it ends with reunion, redemption.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">My favorite lines:</span><br />For my travel bug:<br />"And when I wander here and there, I then do most go right."<br /><br />For one of the most romantic speeches in English literature:<br />" ... What you do<br />Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet,<br />I'd have you do it ever. When you sing,<br />I'd have you buy and sell so, so give alms,<br />Pray so, and for the ordering your affairs,<br />To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you<br />A wave o' th' sea, that you might ever do<br />Nothing but that, move still, still so,<br />And own no other function. Each your doing,<br />So singular in each particular,<br />Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds,<br />That all your acts are queens."<br /><br />---<br /><br />I just want to be honest here: I really struggle with this play. I willingly concede that it is among Shakespeare's best plays, that it has intriguing characters and beautiful poetry, and that it contains several of the best scenes in the entire Shakespeare canon. I just don't like it that much.<br /><br />Frankly, it bores me, both in text and in performance. (I feel the same way about <span style="font-style: italic;">Julius Caesar</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Love's Labour's Lost</span>, since we're being honest.) In the first half of the play, I'm galled by Leontes' ceaseless ranting and Hermione's selflessness. In the second half of the play, the audience already knows how the relationship of Perdita and Florizel is going to wind up, so Autolycus (who gets a lot of praise from scholars for his thematic implications) is to me just an annoying distraction/stall tactic.<br /><br />This week, however, the reading had an upside: I realized how much I have learned in this year-long reading project. As I read the first scene, I thought, "Oh, good old Shakespeare, here once again he uses relatively minor characters who foreground the play and foreshadow the upcoming crisis." Toward the end, I thought, "Oh, look, a typical Shakespearean 'unscene' where minor characters describe a major event offstage."<br /><br />When we read <span style="font-style: italic;">Cymbeline</span> last week, I joked that we could play a bingo game of Shakespeare's most over-used plot points when reading the play. I didn't think about it at the time, but now I realize that you need to have read an awful lot of Shakespeare plays before you're able to say to yourself, "Oh, lord, here we go again with the heroine dressed as a boy."<br /><br />Now, reading <span style="font-style: italic;">The Winter's Tale</span>, I realize that my knowledge of Shakespeare now goes even deeper -- not just to <span style="font-style: italic;">what</span> Shakespeare does but also to <span style="font-style: italic;">how</span> he does it.<br /><br />When it comes to Shakespeare, I'll never have all the answers. Nobody will. The enduring magic of Shakespeare is that his plays present new questions and new possibilities with every new reading, every new generation and every new production. But, this week, I realized how well equipped we are, now, to question and begin to understand the possibilities of these plays.<br /><br />In other words, we're getting kinda smart about this stuff, and that's neat.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-13237551826586943332011-04-03T15:00:00.002-04:002011-04-03T15:00:00.380-04:00This Week's Reading AssignmentWe are getting so close to the end now. After discussing <span style="font-style: italic;">Pericles</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Cymbeline</span>, let's continue our study of the late romances this week with <span style="font-style: italic;">The Winter's Tale</span>. I'll see you at noon next Sunday!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-22760950724272510832011-04-03T11:26:00.002-04:002011-04-03T12:01:09.837-04:00Discussion: Cymbeline<span style="font-weight: bold;">The play:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Cymbeline</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The plot tweet:</span> Plot-heavy self-parody concludes with reconciled lovers, reunited siblings, vanquished enemies and confessing villains. Happily ever after (except for Cloten).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">My favorite line:</span> What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes to see the way of blindness.<br /><br />---<br /><br />Anglophile that I am, I have a small weakness for BBC melodramas with low budgets and terrible special effects. Hence, "Merlin," which I watch each week with a friend. We enjoy the show, but lately we've been noticing that the writers rely on a mash-up of the same plot points in every episode.<br /><br />We decided the show would be more entertaining with "Merlin" bingo cards, where we check off these over-used plot points until somebody has five in a row. (For the win: mysterious sorcerer arrives in Camelot, King Uther goes on a witch hunt, Merlin sneaks into visitor's room at night, Morgana walks down hallway in flowing cape, Gwen has angst-filled moment with Arthur.)<br /><br />I mention this because the same bingo game could be played with <span style="font-style: italic;">Cymbeline</span>, where Shakespeare rehashes many of his already over-used plot points. You might win with a series like: Heroine dresses up as boy, long-lost family members are reunited, sleeping potion creates appearance of death, somebody gets decapitated, British army wins against impossible odds. Shakespeare is known for his skills in characterization rather than plot, but even for him this seems a bit lazy.<br /><br />Unless it's intentional. Many scholars believe <span style="font-style: italic;">Cymbeline</span> is a deliberate self-parody, written by a man who was approaching the end of his career and perhaps a bit tired of the whole thing. Harold Bloom calls the play "a revenge by Shakespeare against his own achievements." He continues, "Compulsive self-parody does not exist elsewhere in Shakespeare; in <span style="font-style: italic;">Cymbeline</span> it passes all bounds."<br /><br />The exception is Imogen, who has more consciousness than other characters in Shakespeare's late plays and who seems to transcend the rampant self-parody of her play. Many scholars -- especially male scholars of previous centuries -- have been madly in love with her and presented her as an ideal woman. As a 21st-century woman, I can't quite agree, but she is sweet and lovely and altogether too good for this play.<br /><br />I have seen <span style="font-style: italic;">Cymbeline</span> performed only once, several years ago at the <a href="http://www.cincyshakes.com">Cincinnati Shakespeare Company</a>. It was staged as high camp, with an evil Queen dressed as Maleficent from Disney's "Sleeping Beauty" and a Cloten (played by the wonderful Giles Davies) as a bow-legged buffoon with an overbite.<span style="font-style: italic;"></span> The sleeping potion was actually an apple, a la "Snow White." But, again, Imogen was a universe unto herself, untouched by the campy antics.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Cymbeline</span> is not considered one of Shakespeare's masterworks, and it certainly doesn't stand up to <span style="font-style: italic;">Hamlet</span> or <span style="font-style: italic;">King Lear</span>. But, even if his motive was artistic exhaustion or disillusion with his craft, there's something wonderful about the idea of Shakespeare mocking himself. Scholars say that every diligent Shakespeare reader has a secret favorite among the "lesser" plays, and perhaps <span style="font-style: italic;">Cymbeline</span> is mine.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409242456356117499.post-15399777759048110562011-03-27T15:00:00.001-04:002011-03-27T15:00:03.778-04:00This Week's Reading AssignmentThis week, let's continue our journey through the late romances with <span style="font-style: italic;">Cymbeline</span>. We're getting so close now -- just eight weeks to go -- and we're seeing the themes that interested Shakespeare near the end of his life. (Am I the only one starting to get nostalgic about this?)<br /><br />As always, we'll start the discussion next Sunday at noon. Happy reading!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17084203792889446528noreply@blogger.com0