The Great Shakespearean Challenge Day 168

     175 out of 1194 pages read.

     And now, for some more on Titus Andronicus.

     As I mentioned in my previous post, I had a few issues with the characters in Titus. My biggest complaint was Aaron, the big bully who is evil for seemingly no reason at all. But I also take issue with Shakespeare's treatment of the female characters in the play.

     There are only two women in Titus Andronicus. The first female character we meet is Tamora, Queen of the Goths. (The "Goths," by the way, are a catchall term for the Germanic tribes that roamed Europe circa the time of the Roman Empire. The Romans considered them barbarians, and Shakespeare characterizes them as such in this play). But anyway. Tamora. We meet her in Act I Scene I when Titus brings her in as a prisoner after he returns from defeating the Goths. Titus kills her oldest son as a sacrifice for the gods (who's the barbarian now?) and Tamora proceeds to seduce Saturninus, who takes her as his bride and makes her Empress of Rome.

     Our other lovely lady is Lavinia, Titus's only daughter. Lavinia is the definition of passivity. She is beautiful and virtuous and basically every male character who isn't related to her wants to marry her.

     And she is also super annoying.

     Lavinia has absolutely zero say in anything that happens to her. At the beginning of the play Titus offers Saturninus Lavinia's hand in marriage. How does Lavinia feel about this? Who knows. She is neither happy nor upset about the arrangement. She's just like "Sure, Dad, whatever you say. I'll marry whoever you want me to."

     It's Bassianus, Saturninus's brother, who has a problem with Saturninus marrying Lavinia. After it is decided that Saturninus will marry Lavinia, Bassianus steps in and spouts off my favorite line: "Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine."

     Note the word "mine." Apparently Bassianus owns her. But I'm being unfair. What he means is "Hey, dude I was already engaged to this chick, so you can't marry her off to my brother."

     "What?!" the reader exclaims, "what?! But if Lavinia were engaged to Bassianus, then why didn't she freak out when her father handed her over to Saturninus?'"

     That's a very good question, dear reader. A question I asked myself while reading Titus. A possible answer would be that Lavinia does not love Bassianus as much as he loves her. Maybe she'd rather marry Saturninus. I mean, really, wouldn't you want to be Empress of Rome? Okay, sure, but when Bassianus exclaims, "This wench is mine!" what does Lavinia do?

     Absolutely nothing.

     She's just like, "Oh, sure, I guess I'll marry him now." Except, she doesn't even say that. She says nothing at all. She's almost unrealistically passive. The reader never knows what Lavinia wants. Even though Lavinia may live in a patriarchal society where she has little control in who she marries, wouldn't she at least say, "Hey, Dad, this is cool and all but I'm already engaged." So, when Lavinia gets her tongue cut out, she almost doesn't lose anything. Perhaps this is a bit harsh, but she hardly used her tongue.

     Oh, wait. That's a lie. Lavinia gets a bit sassy in Act II Scene III.

     In Act II, Scene III Lavinia and Bassianus come across Tamora and Aaron scheming and canoodling in the woods. Bassianus and Lavinia insult Tamora. The only time Lavinia speaks out is to insult Tamora, the only other female character. So let's discuss Tamora a bit further.

     Tamora and her lover, Aaron the Moor, are the play's antagonists. Like Aaron, Tamora is portrayed as nearly heartless. Her only moment of pity is when she pleads Titus to save her oldest son's life. Other than that, she is the antithesis of Lavinia. Whereas Lavinia is passive and chaste, Tamora cheats on Saturninus, she encourages her sons to rape and maim Lavinia, and she orders her illegitimate son to be killed.

     In other words, the only moment where Lavinia speaks out is in Act II Scene III, and the only reason she speaks out is to first insult an unwomanly woman and then to plead for mercy from that same woman when Chiron and Demetrius start dragging her into the woods.

     It should be noted that after this scene, the next time we see Lavinia, she has no tongue and no hands.

     What exactly is Shakespeare trying to say? He gives us the two extremes of female archetypes: the passive damsel in distress and the cruel evil queen. Both of them suffer. Lavinia does not deserve her lot, and Tamora...she perhaps can be viewed as a tragic hero of sorts. The more I consider her actions and reactions, the more parallels I draw between her and Titus. How much different is she from her enemy? Both kill their own children and both kill each others children. Both hit disturbing lows: Tamora's role in Lavinia's rape and Titus's use of cannibalism as revenge.

     So is Tamora really any worse than Titus? Maybe. Maybe not. Unlike Aaron, she has reason to be evil. She has motive to destroy the Adronicus family. Is it justified? Well, we could easily ask if Titus's reasoning for killing Tamora's son is justified.

     This is all very confusing. As much as I've been complaining about Titus Adronicus, I am completely fascinated by it. But that's enough about Titus for now.

The Great Shakespearean Challenge Day 162

     165 out of 1194 pages read.

     Two days ago I finished Titus Andronicus and I still don't know what to make of this play. Titus Andronicus is considered Shakespeare's bloodiest play--an epithet which I see no reason to argue with. The play is violent, gruesome, and at times disturbing. Yet, for whatever reason, I was completely sucked into the plot. I read nearly the entire play in one sitting. Partly because I was tired and had nothing better to do with my time, but mainly because I just couldn't put the book down.

     Despite the play's addictive quality, I'm torn as to whether I like this play or not. The reason for my uncertainty is not so much the dismembered limbs, cannibalism, etc., but the characters. I mean, sure, Titus is great. He's your archetypal tragic hero; a great guy whose hubris (aka pride) causes him to make a really crappy decision (or a few, like killing Tamora's son, making Saturninus emperor, offering Saturninus Lavinia's hand in marriage, and killing his own son), and the rest of the play he struggles to right his wrongs (in the form of seeking revenge) as his life falls pieces.

     But what's up with this Aaron guy?

    He's a fairly heartless fellow. Tamora is evil too, but at least she sort of has reason to be evil; Titus defeated her people and killed her oldest son. So yeah, I can see where she might be a bit angry. But what about Aaron? He seems to be evil just because he thinks its fun. Aaron is the one who suggests that Chiron and Demetrius should violently rape Lavinia in the woods, when originally they were just going to woo her away from her husband. And then, later, he tricks Titus into cutting off his hand.

     "Hey, Titus," Aaron says, "Saturninus said that if you chop off your hand and give it to him, he won't kill your sons. Isn't that nice of him?" Little does Titus know, Saturninus made no such proposition. Oh, but Aaron does return Titus's sons to him...well, he gives Titus their heads, which happen to be unattached from their bodies. (Did I mention this play was super violent? No wonder we never read it in school...)

     But WHY? What are Aaron's motives? Is he mad because Tamora, his lover, marries Saturninus? Is he angry at Titus because he killed Tamora's son? Aaron is just a character I couldn't understand...couldn't quite believe. If there is anything I can't stand, it is a character that is 100% good or 100% evil which is why tragic heroes and Byronic heroes are my favorite character archetypes and why I don't like superhero movies (seriously, don't get me started on Superman...I can't stand that guy).

     Though, to be fair, Aaron proves not to be totally heartless. When Tamora gives birth to a son who is obviously Aaron's and not Saturninus's, Tamora orders the child to be killed, but Aaron refuses to do it. He runs off with his son, and willingly lets Lucius capture him on the condition that Lucius makes sure the baby is cared for. However, we can't forget that Aaron kills the nurse so no one finds out that the kid is his, tries to switch out his baby for another baby, and oh yeah, there's this conversation:

 

     "Yeah, of course I'm sorry--sorry I didn't do more evil things! Mwahaha!"

     Um, what?

     Okay, so the hopeless optimist within me hopes that maybe, just maybe, this is all talk. That Aaron is just trying to sound tough and intimidating. But he did murder and wreak havoc upon the other characters for seemingly no reason at all. So I just don't even know. Aaron baffles me.

     I've done it again; I've rambled on for much longer than I planned. Aaron wasn't the only character in this tragedy that irritated me; Shakespeare's treatment of the female characters in this play also irked me, but alas, I'm afraid we'll have to discuss Tamora and Lavinia at a latter date.

     So stay tuned, coming up on Diary of a Lit Nerd I will have more thoughts on Titus Andronicus as well as more rambling about Charlotte Bronte. The next Shakespeare play I'll be diving into is The Comedy of Errors (finally! a comedy!) and I'm also reading Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen (get ready for an Austen/Bronte showdown).

     Thanks for reading! :)

The Great Shakespearean Challenge Day 158

      138 out of 1194 pages read

     King Richard III picks up where King Henry VI Part Three leaves off. King Edward IV, who ascends the throne at the end of Henry VI, is now older, very ill, and trying to maintain peace between two disputing factions of his court. Little does he know, his brother Richard is plotting to take the throne.

     Richard III was a nice change of pace after three plays of Henry VI. Whereas Henry VI is a weak king, overwhelmed by power, naïve, and easily pushed around, Richard is a man completely possessed by his desire for power. He is willing to do anything to become king including (but not limited to) killing his brother, killing his two young nephews, killing his wife...well, killing just about everyone. A sharp contrast to the pious Henry VI, who tries to defeat his adversaries with words rather than violence.

     And, while being a pushover is not an effective way to rule a kingdom, neither is killing the majority of your family. Richard becomes consumed by his greed for power and his insecurity that everyone is conspiring against him (which, by the end of the play, everyone is pretty much fed up with the guy). For awhile things start looking good for Richard and the reader thinks that maybe he will be able to hold onto the throne, however, his sins quite literally come back to haunt him when, the night before the end battle that will decide if Richard or the Earl of Richmond will become king, Richard is visited by the ghosts of those he killed. The ghosts curse him and, the next morning, King Richard is defeated.
    


This is White Tower, which is where
Edward V and Richard were supposedly
murdered. It is now nicknamed (no doubt
for the benefit of tourists) "Bloody Tower."

     King Richard III was, obviously, an actual English king, but how accurate is this play as a historical record? Was Richard really as evil and greedy as Shakespeare portrays him? The mystery that baffles historians the most is the murder of Edward IV's young sons, Edward V and Richard. According to the play, Richard III ordered Sir James Tyrrel to murder Edward and Richard. Richard III had already started rumors of Edward V's illegitimacy, as well as the illegitimacy of Edward IV, but, if you want to be king, killing the heir to the throne is much more effective than spreading rumors about him. With Edward V and his brother out of the way, Richard III was the next logical heir.

     But was Richard III really that desperate to become king? Desperate enough to kill his two young nephews and numerous other family members? Or was Richard III simply painted a villain by the Earl of Richmond, who would defeat Richard III and ascend the throne as King Henry VII? Richard III certainly was not the only man to have motive to kill the two young princes. Here is an interesting article for anyone wanting more information on the real-life mystery.

      If we're being honest, historians will probably never figure out who actually killed Edward V and Richard. Regardless, Shakespeare's Richard III still represents a powerful example of literature's effect on history. If in fact Richard III was innocent, the play represents how easy it was for the ruling monarch to bend history. After all, Elizabeth I was queen when Shakespeare was writing plays, and, being the granddaughter of Henry VII, she would not have appreciated anyone praising her grandfather's enemy. Thus, it makes sense that Shakespeare portrays Richard III as a nearly compassionless villain, rather than a misunderstood tragic hero (Richard III does kind of start to feel bad after he is cursed by the ghosts of those he killed, but during the end battle, he still fights ruthlessly for his right to be king, thus the recognition of his sins does not seem to be fully realized). Had Shakespeare said good things about Richard III, we would probably study Shakespeare as "that writer guy who made the queen angry and ended up with his head on a pike" and we would be deprived of Hamlet, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Romeo and Juliet, etc., and we would live a very sad, very meaningless existence.

      But I digress.

     Point is, King Richard III gives us an interesting look into the life of 16th and 17th century royalty. Whether Richard III himself was that bloody or not is inconsequential because someone killed those two princes, someone was desperate enough for power to kill two young boys. So perhaps we should look at Richard III the character not as Richard III the actual king, but rather, as an archetype for power-hungry nobles, a symbol for the underlying greed and deceit in every monarch's court. After all, it's not like Richard III was the only guy willing to kill family members for the throne. Stuff like this happened way before his time, and will continue to happen with Henry VII's descendants. Just wait until we get to King Henry VIII.

     Well, after four plays of bloody English history, I will now move onto a bloody Roman tragedy as I dive into Titus Andronicus. Yay! Or as the Romans say--Euge!

The Great Shakespearean Challenge Day 140

 

     103 out of 1194 pages read

     Last week I was privileged enough to go to London, England for a week with my family. Needless to say, it was pretty much one of the best trips ever. And part of what made the trip so amazing was that I got to visit to this place:

 

     If you are unable to identify the above building, then we cannot be friends.

     Just kidding.

 

     Except not really.

 

     For those of you who have just been demoted to acquaintance status, you are looking at a photo of Shakespeare's Globe Theater. No, unfortunately it is not Shakespeare's original Globe Theater, but, the theater is as close and as accurate to the original Globe as any theater ever will be. It's an incredible building.

 

    And as if seeing the theater itself wasn't amazing enough, I was also able to talk my parents into getting the three of us tickets to see A Midsummer Night's Dream.

     We waited until the last minute to get our tickets (my mom was worried about the weather), so we had a limited choice in seats but luckily we were able to get three seats next to each other. It was either that or standing room only, which my old and feeble parents  (just kidding, love you Mom and Dad) refused to do. As it was, they weren't completely sold on the idea on seeing a play at the Globe, so standing for three hours while watching said play was completely out of the question.

    The Globe is an open theater, which is why my mom was so concerned about the rain. However, what we did not know, and what was a pleasant surprise, is that the bench seats (literally, the seats are wooden benches) are, in fact, covered. As for the 700 or so people in the standing area, they are completely exposed to the elements. The stage, of course, is covered by an overhang.

     Even though it was a little chilly on the day we went, everyone is sitting so close together that the seats were actually very cozy. That, and the theater is well-insulated from the wind. Also, as I mentioned before, the seats are literally backless wooden benches. But before entering the theater, there is a little kiosk where pampered ticketholders can rent blankets, seat cushions, and seat backs. My parents and I rented seat cushions (they were one pound a piece) and, needless to say, doing so was a very good investment of three pounds.

     The show started at 2:00 but they started letting people in at 1:30. At about fifteen minutes or so before the show started, a small group of musicians in 16th century garb came onto the stage and played some tunes on Shakespearean-era instruments. Not only was this entertainment for the audience, but it also created a Shakespearean ambience. Aside from the fact that everyone around us was wearing brightly colored rain slickers and most were on their phones, it was easy to believe we were actually in Elizabethan England, waiting to watch A Midsummer Night's Dream, directed by Shakespeare himself.

    The show itself was absolutely fabulous. The actors were incredible and the show was well choreographed. As often is done in productions of A Midsummer Night's Dream, the actors who played Oberon and Titania were the same actors who played Theseus and Hippolyta. This is, of course, done to reinforce the parallels between these two couples as well as to reinforce parallels between the dreamy fairy world and the normal human world.

    Bottom's little troupe of misfit actors tap-danced their way on and off the stage in clog-like shoes, a wonderfully humorous addition that reinforced their silly dialogue. There was an especially funny moment in the second half of the play where Bottom and Peter Quince have a little dance-off (clog-off?). The clogs were especially ingenious because you could always hear Bottom and his friends before they came onto the stage. This was especially clever for the scenes when they went through the crowd in the standing section to get onto the stage.

     Seeing this play was a reminder that plays are, in truth, not meant to be read. They're meant to be seen. To be honest, I never realized just how funny A Midsummer Night's Dream is until I saw that play. I read the play in my sophomore English class. We read the play out loud as a class and watched the movie version of it, but not even the movie conveyed Shakespeare's wit half as well as the play. Obviously, when reading the play, you understand the humor, but you don't fully appreciate it. As for the movie, whoever directed the film didn't fully see the humor either because the actors all read their lines with a seriousness fitting for Romeo and Juliet.

     In short, seeing this play taught me that Shakespeare's plays cannot be fully appreciated unless they're performed in front of a live audience. It's the way the actors interact with the audience and the random things that are going on in the background of the stage that truly bring to life Shakespeare's brilliance.

     The clogs are, of course, a perfect example of the actors interacting with the audience and bringing to life Shakespeare's genius. It was the little things that brought everything together. Like when Demetrius, after Puck doused him in love potion, did a backflip when he saw Helena. Or when Oberon was climbing up the columns and swinging from ropes while the young lovers were arguing and chasing each other through the woods. So many little things that cannot even be explained or appreciated in stage directions made this production hilariously entertaining. Even my parents, who were unsure about seeing the play, were laughing along with me.

     The production was (dare I say it?) perfect. Even with the occasional airplane flying over the theater, the phone that went off, and the sudden downpour of rain three-fourths of the way through the play.

   It was amazing.

    

*Blogger is being a buttface right now (please excuse my language) and is not letting me make my pictures smaller. Sooo I did want to put up more pictures but Blogger isn't really letting me. Hopefully I'll be able to add them up later.

The Great Shakespearean Challenge: Day 83

     78 of 1194 pages read.

     The past few weeks have been uncommonly busy for me and, unfortunately, I have had very little time to either write blog posts or read Shakespeare. BUT, I did finish King Lear and have dove right into Part Three of King Henry VI.

     As nihilistic and depressing as King Lear was, I still greatly prefer it to King Henry VI. Not only is Lear a king that I can respect (despite his flaws), but there are just so many layers to the play. On the other hand, King Henry is basically the biggest loser ever, and the plot of the play seems to be the same thing over and over again. Someone wants to overthrow Henry, there's a lot of conspiring, everyone fights, people die, Henry stays king, the traitor is killed, and then someone else decides they want to be king and the whole cycle repeats itself.

     At first, I really didn't like King Lear either. I mean, really, what father banishes his favorite daughter just because she won't shower him in flattery? King Lear, apparently. But as the play progresses, you can't help but to feel bad for the guy. While Cordelia is probably the best daughter a father could ever ask for, Goneril and Regan are definitely the worst daughters any father could be stuck with. Poor King Lear just wants someone to take care of him, but Goneril and Regan ignore him, abuse him, lock him out in a storm, and more or less kill him and just about every other character in the play.

     That's the other thing about the play King Lear. Everyone dies at the end. Well, everyone but Edgar and the Duke of Albany.

     As I mentioned in an earlier post, I read this book for my school's book club. While discussing the play, we spent a lot of time discussing the hopelessly depressing ending. Is Shakespeare giving us an pessimistic or an optimistic outlook on humanity? The easy answer is pessimistic, but we can't forget that there are bright moments in the play as well.

     One of these more optimistic moments is in when the random servant comes out of nowhere and defends Gloster when Cornwall, Regan and Goneril are plucking out Gloster's eyes. Known only as "First Servant," this guy has no ties to Gloster whatsoever. We know that he is a loyal servant to Cornwall and he's one of the few people in the play with a properly functioning moral compass as well as some courage to back it up. First Servant won't stand to see his master unjustly torture Gloster.

     So obviously this is good, right? Shakespeare is saying that some random, unnamed average Joe can fight for what it good and be courageous and heroic, right? Optimism, right? Right?

    It appears that way, until Regan slays our brave First Servant. First Servant does manage to wound Cornwall, but he doesn't save Gloster

     But First Servant isn't our only good guy. There's also Kent, Lear's faithful adviser, who follows Lear even after being exiled by the king. Kent doesn't die, but at the end of the play we get the impression that the end is near for him. My personal favorite is the King of France, who marries Cordelia even after her father disowns her and takes away her dowry. That the King of France would marry Cordelia for love and not money shows that not everyone is corrupted by greed and power, unlike the many selfish characters (Goneril, Regan, Edmund, etc.) in the play.

     And, of course, there is Cordelia herself, a character who is almost unbelievably good and forgiving. She is kind to her father even after he banished her. She'll do anything to help him out. she forgives him and loves him throughout the entire play.

     And she dies too.

     WHY? Why did Shakespeare kill everybody? Is Cordelia a Christ figure? A martyr for goodness? Or is her death symbolic of the end of goodness?

     I like to think the former is true. That maybe Edgar and the Duke of Albany will rebuild the split kingdom, and maybe unnamed First Servants will come to their aid and everything will be okay. And maybe a king as good and selfless as the King of France will emerge and maintain peace.

     But maybe I'm just a hopeless optimist.

     I'm going to have to read this play again. My head hurts.

The Great Shakespearean Challenge: Day 41

     58 out of 1194 pages read

     Before I start talking Shakespeare, I would like to thank +Marian Allen for mentioning Diary of a Lit Nerd in her blog! I truly appreciated your kind words, Marian.

     As I mentioned in my previous post, I've been simultaneously reading King Lear and Part Two of King Henry VI. King Lear has proven a much more engaging play than Henry VI, Part Two. Though, I will say, now that I am nearing the end of King Henry VI, the plot has become increasingly more interesting.

     The entrance of the character Jack Cade has livened up the play. Cade is a "labouring man" who is leading a revolt against Henry VI and hopes to take the crown for himself (just about every character in this play wants to take down King Henry). He is portrayed as a fairly terrible person, but his strong personality has brought a degree of excitement to the play.

     So far, my favorite Jack Cade line is "Away with him, away with him! he speaks Latin!"

     Okay, I admit, the line doesn't sound that special, especially out of context. But, for whatever reason, it made me laugh; probably only because when I read it, I imagined a frustrated classmate yelling those words at my Latin teacher.

     And, of course, sitting in my second hour Latin class the next day, that line kept popping in my head. For a fleeting moment, I was tempted to jump from my seat and yell, "Away with him, away with him! he speaks Latin!" but I had a feeling that doing so would be frowned upon, despite the literary origins of the outburst.

     Still, I prefer reading King Lear over King Henry VI. Not only is the story more interesting, but the copy of King Lear that I'm reading for book club is illustrated! How do you illustrate Shakespeare, you ask?

     You don't.

    That's why the illustrations are so entertaining. Take a look:

     Obviously, someone thought it would be clever to try to pictorially represent Shakespeare's metaphors. Take, for instance, the top left image, which is a visual representation of the line "the cart draws the horse."

     Umm...I don't think Shakespeare meant that literally, but okay.

     So, as you can well imagine, it is always a pleasant surprise to turn the page and see an awkward snail, what looks to be a sketch of Oz's City of Emeralds, or a guy barbequing his friend.

     But seriously.

    What King Lear has that Henry VI does not have is Shakespeare's wit. Not to say there is no wit or clever wordplay in Henry VI, because there definitely is, but the wit in King Lear is much more searing. It's clear that Henry VI is one of Shakespeare's earliest plays; the genius is there, he just hasn't embraced it yet. Furthermore, as far as personal preference goes, my favorite literary device (yes, I have a favorite literary device; don't hate) is irony, and King Lear is practically oozing irony.

     I look forward to seeing how both plays conclude. I have plenty of reading to catch up on, so I will live you with this parting image, courtesy of my King Lear book:

 

 

The Great Shakespearean Challenge: Day 27

     49 out of 1194 pages read

     Just a quick update.

     I'm making good progress through Part Two of King Henry VI, though I'm finding it less interesting than Part One. None of the characters have really reached out and grabbed me like Lord Talbot and Joan la Pucelle did in Part One. The only character that I have really liked in this play so far was the Duke of Gloster, that is, SPOILER ALERT! until he was murdered.

      I suppose the Duke of York is all right. I'm not sure whether Shakespeare wants me to like him or not, but I'm certainly rooting for him in his quest to overthrow King Henry VI. I'm sorry, but the king is a total loser. I mean come on, the guy faints when he finds out Gloster is dead. Take a look at this stage direction:

The "king" swoons

     Pathetic, right?

     Sure, someone very close to him died. Kings can be sad. But Kings really shouldn't be "swooning."

     Well, King Henry VI was a real person, and I do remember learning in my European History class that he was not the most authoritarian of kings, and was, rather, very sensitive and malleable. If that description is indeed true, then Shakespeare did a wonderful job capturing his personality.

Shakespeare showdown! King Lear vs. King Henry VI

     In other news, the book club at my school is reading Shakespeare's King Lear this quarter. Thus, I've found myself in a situation where I am reading two Shakespeare plays at once.

     Not that I really mind. Can't have too much Shakespeare.

     I've only read a few scene of King Lear, but so far I am really enjoying the play. I'm enjoying it more than King Henry VI, which is becoming a problem as I really need to read both, but I find myself preferring to read King Lear.

     That's all for now. Look forward to more posts about both  Part Two of King Henry VI as well as King Lear.

The Great Shakespearean Challenge: Day 24

     35 out of 1194 pages read

Don't worry, the fire is fake.

     HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!
     (a little late)

     And what better way to spend this wonderful holiday then by reading Shakespeare? After all, we have good 'ole Will Shakespeare to blame for all those Romeo and Juliet cliches that run rampant in American pop culture.


     As promised in my previous post, I have much more to say about Part One of King VI. In addition to Lord Talbot, another character that really stood out to me was Joan of Arc. Both her character and Lord Talbot's character reveal what a profound impact context has on literature.

     Having been a student of the French language for five years, I've seen Christian Duguay's 1999 made-for-TV-movie, Joan of Arc at least twice (that and The Count of Monte Cristo seem to be the only movies French teachers are familiar with), Shakespeare's Joan la Pucelle is a far cry from Duguay's pious saint.

     Shakespeare's Joan is rude and audacious. She's a good fighter, but that's all she's got going for her. Unlike movie-Joan, who remains humble and virtuous, Shakespeare-Joan is depicted more as a witch than a saint.

     Joan's character is best shown in scene iv of act v. In this scene, Joan is about to be burnt at the stake when her shepard father comes to bid her goodbye. Joan denies that this man is her father, falsely claiming that she was born to nobility. Her father leaves in a rage, and when the English start to take her away to be executed, she pleads that should not kill her because she is "virtuous and holy; chosen from above." However, when this argument has little effect on the English, she changes her tactics completely, claiming that she is pregnant with the child of Dauhpin. But the English won't be swayed by this either, so Joan lists off the names of French generals, each time claiming that one of them is the father, changing the her mind every time the English reject her argument.

     Thus, Shakespeare's Joan is vain, self-serving and unscrupulous. She is a sharp contrast to Duguay's Joan, who looks up to the sky in complete submission, her lips parted in prayer as those deadly flames tear at her skirts.

     It would be tempting, very tempting, to make the feminist argument. After all, Shakespeare made a complete joke out of a woman who took on an unconventional role in society and fought for what she believed in at no matter what the cost. But I believe that Shakespeare's depiction of Joan la Pucelle is a reflection not of womankind, but rather, of the French.

     Published roughly half a century after the Hundred Years War, Part One of King Henry VI was written in a time when relations between France and England were still tense. This may be a historical play, but its also a propaganda piece. Take, for instance, the juxtaposition between Lord Talbot, the ideal English knight, and the flighty King Charles of France, who is portrayed by Shakespeare as a fool.

     At one point, King Charles and one of his dukes speak of how Joan la Pucelle will be made the patron saint of France. Thus, Joan can be seen as a symbol for France. Audacious, rude, unscrupulous; through Joan we see how Shakespeare and his countrymen viewed France.

     So what?

     Joan la Pucelle is a perfect example of why, as readers, we need to consider the context of the literature we are reading. Part One of King Henry VI is certainly not one hundred percent historically accurate. Shakespeare was biased towards France, partial towards England. It's at no fault to him; this is simply a result of the time period he lived in. And it certainly makes King Henry no less of a masterpiece. If anything, it just makes the play more interesting. The same is true of Elizabeth Gaskell's The Life of Charlotte Bronte.

     A book never stands alone. It is a living, breathing piece of the time period that conceived it. And it is this dynamic, far-reaching aspect of the written word which makes literature so much fun.

The Great Shakespearean Challenge: Day 17

     30 out of 1194 pages read

     Two days ago, I finished reading King Henry the Sixth Part One, and all in all, I was pleasantly surprised.

     At first it was a tough read, as it was difficult to keep track of the various lords and dukes and their differing storylines. But as I became more familiar with the names and as the storylines began to converge, the play grew more interesting. By the time I got to act III or IV, I was completely sucked in.


     My favorite part of the play is act IV. It is in this act that we see the relationship between Lord Talbot and his son, John.

     Renowned commander of the English army, Lord Talbot is both fearsome and honorable. The French fear him so much that they run at the very sound of his name, but Talbot does not let this go to his head. He knows that without his men backing him up, he is only a "shadow of himself," thus revealing his humility.

     His son, John Talbot, is (if you'll allow me to use this awful cliche) a chip off the old block. In fact, John is so brave, so honorable, so self-sacrificing, that these qualities SPOILER ALERT! lead him to a noble, but premature, death.

     In Act IV, things are looking very bad for the English army. The French have them trapped, and the Duke of Somerset and the Duke of York are too busy arguing to bring Lord Talbot the reinforcements that he so desperately needs. Talbot knows he most likely will not make it out of this battle alive and, when he sees John, he tells his beloved son to flee the battlefield so that John will be able to perpetuate the family name and avenge his father's death. John, however, will have none of this.

     The tenderness between father and son in these scenes is heartbreaking. The situation itself is emotional enough, but Shakespeare's use of rhyme adds an entirely new dimension to the conversation.

Here is one of my favorite parts:

Lord Talbot: Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb?

John Talbot: Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's womb.

Lord Talbot: Upon my blessing, I command thee go.

John Talbot: To fight I will, but not to flee the foe.

                                                                 (Act IV, scene v)

     There is just something so tragically poetic about the way John rhymes his own words with his father's. Perhaps it is symbolic of how John strives to be a great man like his father, and how he will follow his father even if it leads to his demise. His words echoes his father, just as his actions echo his father's actions. Both men urge the other to leave the battle, but both refuse to leave, as both would rather die than shame the Talbot name.

     Lord Talbot is easily my favorite character, and I am very sad that SPOILER ALERT! he dies alongside John in battle and therefore will not be making any appearances in parts two or three of King Henry VI. Unless, of course, someone pulls a Hamlet and starts seeing ghosts. But I kind of doubt that.

    Seeing that this post is getting lengthy, I'll end it here with the sincere suggestion that you read this play. I still have much more I want to say about part one of King Henry VI, so be ready for more posts on this particular topic.

     

The Great Shakespearean Challenge: Day 1

Armed with nothing but an eager mind and a bookmark...

     Today I will embark on a great literary journey. Armed with nothing but an eager mind and a bookmark, I will take on the great master himself.

     William Shakespeare.

     That's right, folks. I'm going to read every single Shakespeare play. One right after the other.

     No, not in one sitting. I'm not that crazy... and I don't have that kind of time. Unfortunately.

     I've been wanting to read all of Shakespeare's plays for quite awhile now, but the enormity of the task has led to its procrastination. Which play to read first? How should I space out the plays?

     I have finally realized that the only way I will read them all is if I just read the volume of The Complete Plays in its entirety. All at once. All 37 plays.

     The task is actually a little daunting. I mean, I've read Gone With the Wind and Anna Karenina; fat books don't scare me. But just look at this big guy:

1194 pages. No footnotes. No introductions or prefaces. 1194 pages of pure Shakespeare.

      Did I mention there aren't any footnotes?


     Yeah. That's why I was able to buy this giant hardcover for under ten dollars. Deals like that come at a price.

     But don't get me wrong, I really am looking forward to this adventure. I've already read Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Othello. But I read these plays for school, and well, it would be nice to just enjoy Shakespeare without worrying about what I'm going to have to write my next essay on.

     Not only that, but when your a freshman, reading Romeo and Juliet in a room full of immature, hormonal fourteen-year-olds (yourself included), the finer nuances of Shakespeare's writing gets lost in the class's amusement with lines such as "my naked weapon is out."

     And while the prospect of reading all these plays without footnotes is somewhat terrifying, I think the experience will do more good than harm. (For my intelligence, that is, not necessarily my sanity) And anyway, if things really start to get murky, I can always turn to my good friend Spark Notes.

     In my edition of The Complete Plays, the plays are arranged in chronological order from first play written to the last play Shakespeare ever wrote. So as I read, I will be following Shakespeare's journey, watching as the great literary genius grows and changes as a writer.

     The first play I will be reading is King Henry the Sixth. Actually, technically speaking, I will be starting Part One of King Henry the Sixth. Yup. It's a three part play. (Or is it three plays? I'm not too sure...)

     Shakespeare isn't going to start me off easy, but I think I'm up for the challenge.