Showing posts with label lo#1d. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lo#1d. Show all posts

Sunday, March 20, 2011

miss terry.

As promised in my last post that was on the"new woman"of the Victorian era , I will be going over some things I found out this week about Ellen Terry, one of the famed Shakespearean actresses of the Victorian stage.
Ellen Terry, circa 1880.
Ellen Terry's first experience acting out Shakespeare on stage was when she was nine years old, playing that part of Mamillius from The Winter's Tale (victorianweb). Perhaps it was at that time, or even earlier, that Terry fell in love with the Bard, and she consistently, throughout her acting career, played many of Shakespeare's leading ladies. She began a life-long engagement with all things Shakespeare, and wrote about his works in letters and even presented many lectures on Shakespeare. In one of her letters to Henry Irving, an actor-manager of the Lyceum Theatre in London, Terry states that
Shakespeare was the only man she had ever really loved. 'When I was about siteen or seventeen, and very unhappy, I foreswore the society of men...Yet I was lonley all the same. I wanted a sweetheart! I read everything I could get hold of about my beloved one. I lived with him in his plays.' (Marshall, 155)
But this "romance" with Shakespeare was not particular to Terry. Many women of the Victorian era used "images of domestic or sentimental attraction[...]in relation to Shakespeare (Marshall, 155)." This, in some ways, makes me think of the trouble that Jane Austin (and Stephenie Meyer, I suppose...) caused in setting too high of standards for men, so much that women wouldn't even look at a man if he was not a "Mr. Darcy," and, well, the Victorian men must've felt some sort of anguish that they couldn't be like the Bard in wooing women. But because of Terry's infatuation with Shakespeare, she was able to become a most sincere and engaging Shakespearean actress: it was as if it was her duty and obligation to show audiences how powerful Shakespeare wrote his female characters, and Terry did a bang-up job at that. Many reviewers responded quite favorably to Terry's role as Imogen in the 1896 production of Cymbeline:
Miss Terry plays the part with a radiance and a charm all her own, with a pathos and a grace of which she, among modern actresses, seems to possess the unique secret...It is long since we have seen such girlish abandon, such womanly tenderness [...]. Time seemed suddenly to be effaced, the years to roll back, and before us stood Miss Terry as young, as fragrant, and as bewitching as ever she was in the seventies. (Marshall, 156)

Thursday, March 17, 2011

the new woman, and the new shakespearean actress.

This week I've been reading a book called "Shakespeare and Victorian Women" by Gail Marshall, and in particular, I have been focusing on a chapter on Shakespearean actresses in the 1890s. But before I get too far into what I've found out, I want to set a foundation and explain, briefly, the "new woman" of the 1800s.
Beginning in the very last bit of the 19th century, female education was growing rapidly, and many more female students were getting into secondary education. At the same time this was happening, new technologies were emerging, and although men were still more highly favored for hiring, women, because of their education levels and skills, were also getting jobs and leaving their position as the angel of the home (CSI).
These new womanly ideals had a major affect on the stage, and in particular the Victorian Shakespeare stage. Because Shakespeare in general dealt with gender issues in his plays, it acted as a perfect conduit to express the new ideals of the late 19th century woman. One stage director by the name of William Poel tried to re-create the Elizabethan stage with a twist of adding all-women casts. These travesi performances became a well-established tradition in performing Shakespeare on the Victorian stage (Marshall, 154).
The actress Sarah Bernhardt performed in several traversi productions, in which her most famous role was that of Hamlet in 1899. This was actually a very popular role for actresses to play, and one critic mentioned of Berhardt that "she is not the first Dame to assume the role of the Dane (171)." It has been reported that there were fifty or more sited cases of females taking on the role of Hamlet long before Bernhardt did (171). But while these other actresses were wearing the black cloak of Hamlet, Bernhardt was playing seductive roles such as Lady Macbeth and Cleopatra, aiding in her reputation of "serpentine sensuality" (171), which makes it all the more interesting that her new role as a man did not evoke any mention of her gender in reviews of her Hamlet.

Sarah Bernhardt as Hamlet, circa 1899.
I think that the lack of mention of Bernhardt wearing a man's clothes and acting out a man's role on stage coincided with what people were seeing on the streets at the end of the 19th century: because of the invention of the bicycle, women started wearing knickers so that they could ride this new contraption, so seeing a lovely woman in men's clothes was nothing new to the end of the century.
Indeed, Shakespeare is proving to have played a role in the whole feminist movement of the late 19th century, and in my next post I'll mention the more feminine side of Shakespeare's Victorian stage through the actress Ellen Terry.


Sources.
Marshall, Gail. Shakespeare and Victorian Women. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2009. Print.
http://www.library.csi.cuny.edu/dept/history/lavender/386/newwoman.html

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

the altered tempest.

"Ariel and Caliban" William Bell Scott. 1865.
Victorian Web.

Even though I haven't found much on Victorian ritualism and magic in Shakespeare's plays, it's on my brain all the time. But I have been finding some very interesting things on Shakespeare's Victorian stage in general. In this post, I'll focus more on what I've found out about Victorian appropriations of The Tempest, specifically on the character of Caliban.

One thing I found out about Victorian productions of The Tempest was that the character of Caliban was changed to not be seen as so diabolical a figure as audiences saw him out to be, but instead he was made into a more human and tragic figure, who was softer and sadder than what many claim the original Caliban was. There are even some claims of Caliban's change in character being influenced by Darwin's Origin of Species, aiding even further anti-slavery movements. Before the more humanistic Caliban hit the stage, many productions, mostly directed by Frank Benson, portrayed Caliban as a monkey-like creature, hanging from the trees that were on set. Benson even researched and observed primates to make sure that Caliban had the movements and the mannerisms of an animal (Keiser). Also, the character of Caliban was seen as the "star" of the play, and the role was oftentimes filled by the most famous actors of the time. Every actor wanted the opportunity to portray the tragic character and to really let their talents really shine through (Keiser).

"Miranda and Caliban" James Ward.
The Illustrated Shakespeare.
I've also been looking at paintings of Caliban that were produced in the 19th century, and it's interesting that even though the character in the play was altered to become more human and emotional, the pictorial representations of Caliban were still very animalistic. Perhaps the artists knew that the easiest way for viewers to distinguish who Caliban is in the painting would be to hold true to the centuries of portraying Caliban as a monster and an animal.













Keiser, Melissa. "Pre-twentieth Century Productions of The Tempest". Web. http://www2.cedarcrest.edu/academic/eng/lfletcher/tempest/papers/MKeiser.htm

Saturday, February 26, 2011

shakespeare through the week.

Even though I've decided on a focus for research for the remaining of the semester, I thought I would still do a bit of Shakespeare randomness on the weekends; sort of a culmination of Shakespearean oddities of any sort I find during the week. This week I only came across two items.

One. While searching the Shakespeare section of the HBLL, I came across a dissertation (at least I'd like to think it to be) on "Shakespear:" How embarrassing, right?

Two. I read Psycho yesterday for my Gothic literature and film class, and I found a happy note from Mr. Bates:
Norman finished shaving and washed his hands again. He'd noticed this compulsion in himself, particularly during the past week. Guilt feelings. A regular Lady Macbeth. Shakespeare had known a lot about psychology. Norman wondered if he had known other things too. There was the ghost of Hamlet's father, for example (Bloch, 94-95).
Well Norman, you were right about one thing at least...Shakespeare did know about ALL sorts of things!

Friday, February 25, 2011

victorians taking on shakespeare.

I still have to get back to the questions I raised in my previous post on The Winter's Tale, but that will have to wait for later tonight.
Actress Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth.
John Singer Sargent. 1888.
As for now, I just wanted to get in to typing what I have decided to focus on for the remaining of the semester, that being VICTORIAN SHAKESPEARE. Dr. Burton jogged my memory last class that I had previously mentioned taking a deeper look in how Shakespeare was received and studied in the Victorian era. Thanks Dr Burton.
So Wednesday, I went to the library, and just started wandering from the very first row of Shakespeare books, and spent a good hour reading titles, until finally I reached the 19th century critiques on Shakespeare. I think I pulled all the books available on Victorian Shakespeare, plus a few Shakespeare in the arts books that centered around the Victorian and Pre-Raphaelite period.
I came home with two very full bags of books from the HBLL, and I can't wait to crack those babies open to start making connections and discoveries between two of my most favorite eras, as far as art and literature go.
Oh, I will also be referencing the Victorian Web, and I just came across a blog on the Pre-Raphaelite sisterhood that might have some fun things to explore.
Hazzah!

Sunday, February 20, 2011

pandosto, a victim of time.

Before I got into my previous post's questions, I wanted to read the source from which Shakespeare drew on for The Winter's Tale, that being Robert Greene's Pandosto. The Triumph of Time. I found it to be wonderful prose, as would make sense since Greene was very popular during his time of the late 1500s. But my post here will be on what I noticed from the original to the "remake," and make connections from that.
  • First off, Bohemia, in Greene's text, is still a coastal country. The history of Bohemia suggests that it only was ever a coastal country for four years, during the reign of Ottokar II from 1269 to 1273 (Asimov, 157). Very interesting. I wonder if either Greene or Shakespeare thought about this, or if they were just going for the fantastical side of things by making Bohemia a coastal country in what appears to be a pre-Christian era, which is suggested by the oracle at Delphi, which was utilized before the time of Christ. Odd mesh of time periods, wouldn't you say?
  • The characters of Greene's prose are: Pandosto, King of Bohemia; Bellaria, wife to Pandosto; Egistus, King of Sicilia; Franion, servant to Pandosto; Garinter, son of Bellaria and Pandosto; Fawnia, lost daughter of Pandosto and Bellaria; Porrus, adoptive father to Fawnia; Mopsa, wife to Porrus; Dorastus / Meleangrus, son of Egistus; Capnio, servant to Egistus. So, if you've read the Shakespearean version, you'll be able to notice that he swapped places of the unfortunate king from Greene's original.
  • Bellaria and Egistus are indeed very friendly, but Bellaria is only showing him affection for the sake of her husband, Pandosto, who wishes for his wife and his best friend to get along. The two would often talk late in to the night, because the queen thought she was doing what her husband wanted her to do, but there was never any inappropriate conduct between the two. 
  • Pandosto is more methodical than maniacal; he thinks over the consequences if he were to poison his bff, Egistus, as well as his wife, Bellaria.
  • Franion is very conflicted about what Pandosto has asked of him. Either he can be a loyal servant and poison Egistus and Bellaria, or he can remain moral and tell Egistus about the plot against his life.  Franion, while contemplating, says, "Where eagles build, falcons may prey; where lions hunt, foxes may steal." So pretty much, no matter what he does, there will be conflict and problems.
  • Franion is justifying that if he does go through with poisoning Egistus, that he shouldn't feel bad because he is doing it for the king, and the king will protect his actions. But he decides to flee with Egistus in the end.
  • Because Egistus is no longer in court, Pandosto has no one else to take his anger out on other than his wife, Bellaria.
  • The jailor is the one that informs the king that his queen is pregnant. 
  • Pandosto's nobles ALL try to persuade him not to kill his wife and his newly-born daughter.
  • Bellaria is the one that puts the chain that would later identify her daughter around her neck.
  • The baby was sent out to the merciless sea to be laid in the hand of fortune, just as the king has ordered to be done. The seafarers felt pity for the baby, so they built a shelter on the boat so the babe would have some chance against the sea.
  • It was the queen who had requested that the oracle be inquired of Bellaria's innocence. The oracle's reply was "Suspicion is no proof: Jealousy is an unequal judge: Bellaria is chaste: Egistus blameless: Franion a true subject: Pandosto treacherous: His babe and innocent, and the king shall live without an heir: if that which is lost be not found." This is nearly word for word what Shakespeare's oracle prophesied, except for the names of course.
  • After this indictment was read, the king asked his noblemen to ask his wife fir forgiveness, and he confessed all his folly, then the report came that his son dies, and upon that report his wife fell and died.
  • The king then thought of taking his own life, but his courtiers stayed with him to make sure he wouldn't go through with it, and to persuade him that it wouldn't be worth it.
  • The epitaph that Pandosto had on his wife's grave read:  "Here lyes entombde Bellaria faire, falsly accused to be unchaste: Cleared by Apollos sacred doome, yet slaine by jealousie at last. What eve thou be that passest by, cursse him, that causde this queene to die."
  • A shepherd from Sicilia found the baby. He considered taking the baby to the king so it could be raised in the upbringing it would have deserved, but he wanted to keep the gold and money, so to justify keeping the gold and riches, he decided to just take the baby home to his wife so they could raise it. When Porrus, the shepherd, brought the baby home, his wife was furious, thinking it was a bastard child her husband had made with another woman. Then Mopsa, his wife, decided it was a blessing because they were both poor and did not have the ability to have a child. 
  • Sixteen years later, Dorastus, Egistus' son, is betrothed to Euphrania, the princess of Denmark. Dorastus talks about how he will never marry, and he and his father get in quite a tiff. 
  • Dorastus meets Fawnia, much the same way they met in Shakespeare's version by flying his falcon nearby Fawnia's farm, then over the next several months, or weeks, or so, they get in to many arguments of why and why not they cannot love each other, let alone marry. Then after all this debate, they decide to hit the sails and flee to Italy. In this scenario, Capnio takes the place of Shakespeare's Autolycus in tricking Porrus to not request audience with the king. Capnio then tricks Porrus on to the same ship that Dorastus and Fawnia are setting sail on, then they all have a grumpy trip, and a tempest rages and sets them off course and they land at Sicilia. Dorastus knew that the king of Sicilia, Pandosto, was not in favor with his own father, and had heard Pandosto was an awful man. So Capnio convinces Dorastus to change his name, as well as Fawnia's birthplace. Dorastus is now Meleagrus and Fawnia is from Padua.
  • After a short audience with Pandosto, he realizes who Meleagrus is, and sends him, along with the seafarers, to prison. He then tries to seduce Fawnia in becoming one of his concubines and tells her he would set Dorastus free if she agreed to be his concubine. She of course cannot be persuaded.
  • Word was sent to Egistus that Pandosto was keeping his son in prison, so he leaves immediately to Sicilia to retrieve his son and to send Fawnia and Porrus to death for tainting his princely son.
  • All is then revealed by Porrus, because he wanted to confess before being put to death so he could have a clear conscience, then everything is lovely and happy, and The Bohemians, with their new princess Fawnia, go back. Then word is sent that because of Pandosto's tormenting guilt, he kills himself. 
So, obviously, Greene's original text has much darker elements than Shakespeare's take on the famous tragic prose. It has been interesting to ponder on the differences and wonder why Shakespeare made the changes he did. It is well worth to read the sources that inspired Shakespeare, and to see the same level of craft Shakespeare must've seen in these texts...otherwise, why would he use them to create his own works?

Thursday, February 10, 2011

very leary.

I've had a slow go at King Lear this week, and I'm still pretty lost. I finally finished reading the text today, and although Dr. Burton's mini-lecture on Lear helped me to find some additional meaning to the play, I still don't know that I got out of it all that I could. I had planned to read The Faerie Queen by Edmund Spenser because the Bevington intro to Lear claimed that it was a version of the story of King Lear. So I grabbed my Broadview Anthology of British Literature and did some of the preliminary reading on The Faerie Queen. There was no mention of King Lear at all in the introduction, but I still have on good authority that Lear is somewhere there. So I know I will have to do some further digging of critiques to find the answers I'm looking for, and also so see King Lear as a happy tale rather than the Shakespearean take which ends all in blood and several dead bodies being dragged from off the stage. But in the meantime, I'm going to watch Ian McKellan's role as Lear, and I know that seeing the film will fill in the holes that I missed when I read the text.
Until then, happy tragedying.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

i like it.

I just read the Bevington introduction to As You Like It and I confess that I found it far more interesting and informative than the intros to the other two plays I have read so far. One of the themes it brings up right off is that of sexual identity being confused. I really find this point to be intriguing and interesting, especially since it led me to wonder if sexual identity was as profound of a problem in Shakespeare's time as it is today. The intro also heavily focused on starting with a homosexual relationship in order to transition on to a heterosexual union. Once again, very interesting that these matters should have such a primary focus in Shakespeare's play.
It's been a good start already, and I'm excited to further address the concerns and matters that are laid out in the introduction.

henry iv finale.

Well, I finished reading Henry IV Part 1 on Saturday, and then I finished Chimes at Midnight on Sunday. Well, I didn't finish the entire film, but I watched as much of it as was relevant to only the first part of the play. Apparently Chimes at Midnight is a culmination of Henry IV, Part 1, Part 2 and the first bit of Henry V. As much as I would've like to watch how the story ended, I just got bored. And I'm not saying it was entirely the movie's fault, but had I read all three plays, I would have been more invested in finishing the movie.
So first, just some thoughts about the movie, then I'll move on to final thoughts on the play.

Chimes at Midnight.
As I watched the last half of the half of the movie that focuses on Part 1 of the play, I came to the realization that I pitied Hotspur more, mostly because he was so likeable and jovial. I didn't get this as much in the play, and so I mentioned this to my mom. She mentioned that the real-life Harry Percy was sort of like the "sweetheart" of England; he was the King's go-to man, and everyone adored him. So I looked up some history (wiki style) about the real-life Harry and found that he really did seem to be loved by many. Even King Henry IV was said to have cried at finding Hotspur to be dead. Which then leads to how he died, which, unlike the play, was not by the hand of Prince Hal, although it was during the same battle, as far as I can tell. Also, in the play Hotspur and Hal are supposed to be more of peers, when historically Hal was only sixteen when Hotspur rebelled against Henry IV, and when he died. Now all this real historical background led me to the sources at the back of our book. I know I should've checked it out earlier, but I didn't, so...
Anyway, wiki led me to a source that is not mentioned in our book, but it seems like sound evidence? But that source is said to have come from Hotspur's squire, a John Harding, who wrote about the Percy family and about the rebellion against King Henry IV. The authentication of this source led me to a genealogy site where Hotspur's descendants keep it updated. Here is the link, if you so desire. It's pretty cool. I would never have thought of checking on the ancestry of some of the historical figures of Shakespeare's plays!

Well, I sort of got of track with that, so let me continue on to my final words on the play version of Henry IV.

Okay, so I came across an article titled "Shakespeare's best history plays," and I actually found it to be pretty interesting. In brief, what I found to be most interesting was that the article says that Henry IV, Part 1 could have been the most widely produced play during Shakespeare's time. I wondered why it might have had such a wide following back then when now there are very few productions of it. Perhaps it is because the play is the epitome of a prodigal son returning. I can only assume that that was a popular theme at the time, so I have a few ideas on why that theme might not be so popular with our society now.
In literature, media, films, tv, the heroes and heroines are the anti-hero. Our society is bombarded with the idea that it's okay to do drugs, be immoral, and what have you, because even with those flaws you can still be the protagonist. It's as if our society doesn't want to see the protagonist to get out of a slump, because maybe it proves that no matter how imperfect you are, you can still do anything. But I think that it would be more impressive to see the protagonists of our modern literature to follow the path of the hero's journey, where they make mistakes and better themselves to reach the ultimate boon. But now, our society has made it so simple and we don't expect people to progress and become their better selves. So that's my very simple idea of why Henry IV isn't very known in our day. I'm sure there is more psychology on the matter, and I'm just blabbering on about my own ideas, but for now, that's what I have.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

global shakespeare.

Yesterday I came across a seemingly handy site, global shakespeares. I plan to explore it more in depth once I get into King Lear and Macbeth. I did a quick search on the site to see if there were any productions of Henry IV being done in Japan, but as far as the site indicated, there aren't.
But, if anyone is interested in seeing how Shakespeare in interpreted around the world via stage productions, check the site out. You can search by region, language, and by the play.
Anyway, now I'm off to finish Henry IV

Thursday, January 20, 2011

the firmament.

Last week I visited the library and grabbed several books on Shakespeare and various theories. A lot of the books I chose deal with the interest of science and in astronomy during the time of Shakespeare.
Last night I got into a book titled Shakespeare and Science . Although it is an older book, it gets right to the point without extra fluff and theory. Most of what I found to be interesting was how frequently, and even subtly, the heavens and the planets are mentioned in Hamlet. One of the chapters of the book dealt only with the sunrise and what it represents in Shakespeare's writings. "[the] dawn was the symbol of hope, freshness, youth, renewed strength, action, opportunity. It was the moment when man braced himself to meet his fate, be that good or bad." As I read this quote, I thought immediately of when the "cock crew" after the ghost of Hamlet's father disappeared again. After Hamlet spoke with the Ghost, he accepted to avenge his murdered father, thereby accepting his fate, which turned out to be pretty bad.

Another reference to the sun in Hamlet is when the prince is comparing his deceased father and his murderous uncle to his mother. Hamlet relates his father's image to that of Hyperion, the titan god of the sun.
Perhaps in Hamlet relating his father as the sun god, Shakespeare was able to manipulate King Hamlet as the center of all the events that occurred in the play. Bu then again, did Shakespeare believe in the Ptolemaic theory of the universe (earth as the center), or in Copernicus's model of the universe (sun as the center)? Either way, Hyperion was known and respected in the time of Shakespeare as  a pretty powerful god, deserving of praise and worship.

Monday, January 10, 2011

intro.

I love British literature. I love Japan. I love British literature that exists in Japan; therefore I would like nothing more than to explore how Shakespeare is received and adapted in Japanese culture. 
My exploration of The Bard in Nihon will consist of me watching movies from the legendary filmmaker Akira Kurasawa, among other Japanese directors, and analyzing the various interpretations of Shakespearean plays in Japan. I will also be looking at traditional Kabuki plays to find elements of Shakespeare that are used.