(26) Titus Andronicus

Rape, murder, cannibalism, mutilation, decapitation…Titus Andronicus has all this and more, much more actually. This play, Shakespeare's first Tragedy, is a brutal, gory bloodfest and parts of it are downright repugnant. For example, there is a scene where a girl is gang raped and then her hands and tongue cut out to prevent her from revealing the perpetrators. Really. She is then openly mocked, bloody stumps and all, directly afterwards in one of the most difficult scenes I've yet encountered. And then there’s the whole cannibalism thing, where a mother is fed the bones of her recently murdered children, all baked up nice in a creamy, delicious pie. Really.

So, as you may have guessed, this play is a big turn off to many a Shakespeare fan, and appears to be his least liked play, by overall, general consensus (this is interesting actually in that during Shakespeare’s time it was quite popular, a so-called “revenge play” that was in vogue back then). You can find a whole bunch of great quotes from famous Shakespeare critics deriding the thing as a steaming pile of crap. My favorite by far is from the great T.S. Eliot:

"[Titus Andronicus] is one of the stupidest and most uninspired plays ever written, a play in which it is incredible that Shakespeare had any hand at all."

Apparently this play is so bad that for centuries everyone refused to believe that Shakespeare wrote it, a theory that has some merit but has been pretty much debunked in modern times (the thinking now is that he only wrote part of it, which also strikes me as apologetic).

So, you ask, what did I think? Frankly, I’ve read worse. Some of the characters and images are actually quite interesting (the whole shooting arrows into the castle thing in Act IV, Scene III, where Titus uses words as actual weapons, a common and well wrought theme in the play), and some of it downright silly (young Lavinia being told to carry her father’s freshly severed hand in her mouth: “And, Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd in this; Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth.”). So silly in fact that I think there is some credence to the theory that Shakespeare is just messing with us. Indeed, some have suggested that this play isn’t a Tragedy at all but rather a Comedy, because it is so over the top. And it has been adapted as comedy, with some success (my favorite: Titus Andronicus as a cooking show). So, I guess I didn't find it all that bad but can definitely sympathize with anyone who thinks it is his worst work. It is interesting, however, to note that of all the plays so far, this one easily seems to generate the most controversy.

Shakespeare on the Web

Here's a time vampire for you: a list of 50 of the best Shakespeare websites. Some of my favorites:

Shakespearances.com
Shakespeare on About.com
The Shakespeare Standard
Folger Shakespeare Library
The Shakespeare Geek Blog
Another Shakespeare Blog

Henry VIII Bullet Points

• Unlike almost all of the other plays, the date for this one can be pinpointed with almost total accuracy, and the reason is interesting. Apparently, this play was responsible for burning down the Globe Theater, which makes me like it even less. Here’s how it went down: Early in the play, there is stage direction to fire a cannon, which apparently lit the thatched roof of the Globe on fire (not part of the play for sure), burning it to the ground. This fire (and the play that caused it) is noted extensively in letters and commentary from the day, correspondence that can be dated exactly (June 29th, 1613). So there.

• This is another play (the other being The Two Noble Kinsmen) in which co-authorship with one John Fletcher is pretty well established. You (or at least I) can feel the presence of another hand (I think), much more so than the Kinsmen play. Some of the language (for example, the use of the contraction ‘em all over the place) and lots of the structure seems foreign to me.

• This play is different in that it possesses detailed stage directions. This is an anomaly for Shakespeare, who hardly included any in his other works. Again, the presence of another writer in the work could account for this.

• Last but certainly not least, there are no battles in this play, the only History play without one. This lacking is replaced by lots of pageantry and celebratory cannon shot (see above). Given what happened with the pyrotechnics, they probably should have stuck with a battle.

Henry VIII in Production at Blackfriars

This review of last year's production of Henry VIII looks like it was something to see. Unfortunately, this project had just begun so it was not something on my radar at the time. I do like the review though and it has made me rethink some of my criticism. I especially like the last few paragraphs of the review. Very insightful analysis, that bit on "the point" of the play. I think that's what was bothering me...the apparent lack of "a point," as seen in the other works. The review not only dispels that notion (in some ways), but applies the play to modernity, which is about as much of "a point" as you can find anywhere.

(25) Henry VIII

Henry VIII is a different sort of play…a not very good sort…in my most humble of opinions. I'm just not feeling it with this one. It's different, in a lesser way, from the other plays and comes across as formulaic, with a plodding plot and oftentimes stilted, inauthentic language. I really did not find a whole lot to remember in this one, and I am looking forward to moving on. A quick summary: Henry VIII is king. Some of his advisors are power hungry despots. They fall from grace, one by one, until the last one (Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury), whom Henry saves. In between all this, the king divorces his first wife (Katherine), marries Anne Boleyn (Bullin in the play), and sires the infant Queen Elizabeth. The action here follows the history of this king (a familiar history to us I think), with all the embarrassing points left out of course, which brings me to my biggest problem with this play: its seemingly relentless political pandering to the Tudor regime. It’s nonstop, especially at the end with the birth of Queen Elizabeth, where there is a lengthy, eye-rolling passage spoken by the Archbishop of Canterbury on the fantastic merits and godly countenance of the infant Queen. Take this for example:

This royal infant--heaven still move about her!--
Though in her cradle, yet now promises
Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness: she shall be--
But few now living can behold that goodness--
A pattern to all princes living with her,
And all that shall succeed: Saba was never
More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces,
That mould up such a mighty piece as this is,
With all the virtues that attend the good,
Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse her,
Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her:
She shall be loved and fear'd: her own shall bless her;
Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,

“…like a field of beaten corn.” Really? This lavish and gushing praise goes on and on. I guess the Elizabethan audience would have liked this sort of thing, but for me, not so much. Maybe I’m overly sensitive to this type of thing (politics of this sort is a big turn-off for me), but I am certainly not alone (apparently this play is a regular on many a least-liked list).

So unfortunately, my run through the Histories ends in a whimper, not a bang, but oh well, no harm done. I am ready to move on to the Tragedies and the worlds of Caesar, Romeo, Othello, and Lear. The list of great Shakespeare plays in this genre is strong and long and I have been anticipating this jump for some time. As usual, check back often as I shall be chiming right in with copious amounts of misinterpretation, thematic misunderstanding, and general misjudgment. Good for me.

The Hollow Crown

I finished this excellent film series tonight and really liked it. As I mentioned earlier, it’s a PBS film series of the four plays in the second tetrology. I found the movies really entertaining, which, let’s face it, can be a problem with Shakespeare sometimes (at least for me). These films are all Hollywood and are geared towards the “Average Joe” seeking a “Shakespeare Experience.” They succeed I think, providing a view into Shakespeare that is all cinematic glitz and glamour.

In fact, this idea of giving Shakespeare “back to the people” appears to have been a major objective of these movies (interviews in the bonus material on the DVD confirm this). In this vast and varied space that is “Shakespeare,” I have come across this notion many times before, the notion that Shakespeare has been hijacked by academia and thus diminished and devoiced, robbed of life by narcissistic, cloistered scholars in sealed-up universities.

Okay, a little too much there, but in all honesty, I feel like they may have a point. One of the actors in the DVD interview put it perfectly in saying (I’m paraphrasing) that Shakespeare would have been “horrified” to know that his plays were being experienced in a classroom. They are plays after all, meant for stages (or movie sets I guess). They are not books (remember, Shakespeare did not publish a single one of his plays during his lifetime). These are things of the theater, plain and simple, and are in their natural state only when acted out in front of people.

However, on the other side of the argument, there is something weird that I can’t quite put my finger on whenever I see these plays made into big Hollywood-type things. In watching such movies, it seems at times just so far from what Shakespeare actually intended or could ever have envisioned and as such I sometimes find a little nagging voice inside my head saying “it’s not supposed to be this way” during a particularly tricked-out fight scene or something. It’s kind of like this: if I were to go back in time and show anything from The Hollow Crown to Shakespeare, would he also be horrified (probably more like completely mystified…and I would probably be burned at the stake as a witch…but that’s another matter entirely)? The form would just be too far out for the guy to accept. Or would it?

(24) Henry V

Henry V is a play about Henry V. Not just about him, but of him, all of him. More so that any of the other history plays, this one is all about the title character. There is a laser-like focus on the guy and nearly all the plot, character, theme, and space tie back to him. It’s interesting to note that Shakespeare kills off Falstaff, even after promising he will return at the end of the proceeding play (Henry IV, Part II). The corpulent rogue is only briefly mentioned as having died and is eulogized by his friends, but not for long. It’s almost as if Shakespeare was worried about losing focus on Henry if Falstaff were around. The guy (Falstaff) does tend to cast a long shadow. But anyway, this play is all about Henry, but that’s not surprising, right? It’s the title after all.

There are some remarkable speeches by Henry in this one, big fat famous speeches, speeches that really make this a five star affair. There are two speeches that rise to the top, the speech before the gates of Harfleur, and the St. Crispin’s Day speech. The St. Crispin’s day speech is particularly good. In the context of the play, it can get you a little misty-eyed in fact, in a Saving Private Ryan sort of way. Powerful stuff, as great and timeless as anything I have yet read.

This is a play about war. The central action of this play is the invasion of France by Henry in 1415, culminating in the Battle of Agincourt, a hugely lopsided English victory (10,000 French nobles dead versus a few hundred English). Reading up on this battle, I found it fascinating, and there is quite a bit of discussion and dissection around what actually happened. It was a battle in which the English longbow played a part (but how big of a part?), as did the terrain, tactics, and technology of the day. I love that kind of thing, and this battle has it all. Check it out. It must have been a really terrible thing, fighting as a French knight on that field that day, and Shakespeare paints it perfectly, although with wide strokes, avoiding the details. In this way, he honors the battle; he honors both sides, describing in the most eloquent way possible the reality of that event, the glory and the honor along with the horror and the sin. This was the best part of the play, and it is what I will remember.