Showing posts with label play. Show all posts
Showing posts with label play. Show all posts

Saturday, 7 March 2020

Review of 'As You Like It' by William Shakespeare

Dark sky backround with writing: "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players" - 'As You Like It', William Shakespeare

I absolutely thought that 'As You Like It' was one of the Shakespeare plays I'd never bothered to get around to. But, as I started to read it, hints of familiarity came flooding back and I realised that one of my favourite Shakespeare quotes (and what I named this whole blog after) came from this play!

'As You Like it' is one of Shakespeare's comedies, attributed to his mid-career in terms of the time frame of his plays. It follows the story of Rosalind, whose father is exiled by her uncle and ultimately is exiled by her uncle. Orlando, exiled by his own brother, meets Rosalind and her cousin Celia who are now living in a forest. Rosalind is disguised as a man, Ganymede, to protect her and Celia. When 'Ganymede' meets Orlando, he learns of his love for Rosalind. 

The whole play, as with many of his comedies is all about disguise and misunderstandings. Rosalind was played by a boy pretending to be a girl pretending to be a man who then pretends to be a woman to faux-woo Orlando. A woman falls in love with 'Ganymede' who does not really exist, whilst Orlando is in love with Rosalind but does not know Ganymede and Rosalind are the same person.

It's not one of my favourite plays, but is a great one of the comedies, so I'm giving this 4 out of 5 stars.

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Friday, 22 July 2016

My 10 favourite classics of all time


I think it's been over a year now since I posted anything other than just a straight up review on here, and I've decided to make things a little bit more varied over the next couple of months. I'm kick-starting this with this super-quick top 10 classics post. Hopefully (maybe?) it'll inspire your choice in the next classic to read, or you'll be able to relate with me on some level about my love for that particular text. So, without any further babble, let's go. 

In no particular order, here are my 10 favourite classic texts of all time:

1.) Pablo Neruda's poetry, in particular 'Ode to the Clothes'. He manages to make the most ordinary of things the most beautiful, and really changed my opinion of what poetry could do.

2.) Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. Let's face it, this was always going to be on my list, I mean, I am an ex-English student after all. This was the first text I ever remember studying in which it was clear that the author had imbued every scene with symbolism and hidden meanings.

3.) Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus. This is one of his earliest and least famous texts. It's also one of his bloodiest and seeing it at the RSC was a once-in-a-lifetime treat for me that I'll never forget.

4.) Dickens' Bleak House. Part of me has no idea why I like this - it's long, I had to make a physical list of characters so I didn't get confused, and the plot has about 17 thousand strands. But, seeing all those strands come together and finally reading a book in which Dickens offered a fairly realistic insight into the mind of a woman (for once) made it all worth it. 

5.) Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. Pre-warn: there are going to be a fair few Victorian texts on here, but I love them, so we're all just gonna have to deal with it. This is possibly my favourite book of all time, and it's something that I really savour coming back to time and time again. I've possibly read it five? times now and each time I come away feeling bowled over by this woman's incredible writing.

6.) Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. I actually remember borrowing this off of my mum when I was a teenager and I fell totally in love with the whole Jane-Rochester debacle. I'd tried reading Austen before, and assumed all Victorian texts fell under the same dreary brush (sorry Austen fans), but this definitely opened up my eyes to the power of Victorian literature.

7.) Stoker's Dracula. I've got a little confession here: I only actually read this for the first time about a year and a half ago. It's one of those texts that was so hyped up I was actually put off of it. When I read it however I was totally wowed by how many of our notions about Vampires come from this one text, and how forward it was in terms of discussing sex.

8.) Hardy's Tess of the D'Ubervilles. All I can say is that I warned you about how much of this would be Victorian. Sorry not sorry. Seriously though, get your hands on an unedited copy of this and you can get a real insight into how society treated a 'fallen' aka non-virginial woman, way back when.

9.) Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin. This broke my heart and mended it all over again about seven times. If you're looking for an insight into the world of America's slave trade, then this is a good place to start.

10.) Donne's 'The Broken Heart'. I actually read this Medieval poem when I was studying my a-levels, in an attempt to secure some extra reading to help with my university application. What I didn't envision was falling totally in love with it and finding what still remains my favourite poem of all time.

I honestly thought I was going to struggle to think of 10 texts, but here I am struggling to contain all my favourites within a mere list of ten. I feel like writing this post in itself has been a journey for me, reminding me of why I love reading, and why certain books touched me at certain points in my life. I'm also feeling totally inspired to get back in to reading poetry and plays, to the extent that I'm now considering having a 'poem of the week' post once a week. Would you guys like that? I'd love to hear some input!


Saturday, 21 March 2015

Review of 'The Rover'

This is probably the oldest text I've ever read by a woman. I'm not going to lie, before coming across 17th Century English literature I didn't even know women were able to write published work at this kind of time (kind of shows how repressive some eras were - I'm looking at you, almighty damaging Victorian period). Anyway, The Rover, a play by Aphra Behn, is incredibly expressive regarding the wit and status of women in society during this period. However, this quotation, despite appearing a bit fluffy and cute is actually one of the most troubling I came across in the text. It's spoken by one of the boldest women in the play, Angellica, but suggests that there is an inherent weakness in women that emerges when they fall in love. 

Willmore, or the rover whom the name is titled after is looking for love (or sex, they're effectively the same thing in 17th C fiction). Hellena, whose brother simply wants to send her to a convent and preserve her feminine purity, seeks to get a glimpse into the real world and fall in love. Her and Willmore's paths and hearts meet, however, another figure comes into play: Angellica. Despite being a courtesan, albeit one who insists on a high payment, Angellica is actually not a 'simple' woman as one might expect her to be stereotyped. Amongst a number of other plot lines, you get to see whether Willmore will choose the simple, but alluring Hellena, or the stunning Angellica.

Have you read it? What did you think?

Steph x

Thursday, 12 March 2015

Review of 'The Country Wife'

(image taken from google)

This 17th Century play goes hand in hand with The Man of Mode, which I reviewed here the other week. Again, this play forms a part of the Restoration drama canon, and as such has many of the common features of it. Very bawdy (to say the least), this play questions relationships and hierarchies between men and women. 


Horner (aptly named) creates a rumour at the beginning of the play that through some kind of venereal disease he has become impotent. This allows him to get away with far more licentious behaviour with men's wives than would otherwise be allowed. Alongside this plot, the audience follow the lives of many other characters. There is the not-so-witty Mr Sparkish, due to marry Alithea; Pinchwife, whose decision to shut his wife up from the contagion of London morals doesn't quite go to plan, and more.


As with The Man of Mode, many questions about gender roles and sexuality are raised in this play. The most potent of these (get the pun?) is the idea that as long as a man is impotent one's wife is safe with him. This largely dwells from the lack of contraception during this period - a man needed to make sure his heir was in fact his, so his wife had to remain untainted by any other man with the potential to produce offspring. I found it incredibly interesting that this was the key reason for keeping a woman faithful, rather than the spread of venereal disease or the idea of husbandly possessiveness (as is very prevalent in later literature). 



Have you read it? What did you think?

Steph x



Tuesday, 24 February 2015

Review of "The Man of Mode"

The above excerpt from this 17th century play sounds like it could have come out of the mouth of Lady Macbeth, however, writing over half a century later, the playwright Etherege had quite a number of different aims in his portrayal of the scorned women. The political climate of Etherege's writing was one of libertinism. Charles 1 had been killed and a spirit of puritanism had entertained the interregnum, but with the Restoration seeing Charles II put on the throne, a period of somewhat licentious behaviour ensued. Charles II was known for his many mistresses, and if you've ever read any of Rochester's poetry, you'll know how, let's say "saucy" Restoration literature can be! 

Dorimant, a man of wit, convinces the town that through the contraction of a venereal disease he has become impotent. In this way he can allow men to let him have access to their wives, believing that he can do them no harm (the rogue!). Mrs Loveitt is one of the first to fall under his wiles and realise that she desires him. After this, women seem to keep falling into his trap. Sir Fopling Flutter on the other hand, as his name suggests, is the foppish laughing stock of the play - misplaced attempts at wit, unfashionable clothing and outdated speech make him far less desirable to the women. The real question of the play is: will Dorimant's trickery be discovered? And by the men or the women of the play?


This play really made me think about how restrictive Victorian literature has been on the notion of sexuality, especially female sexuality. All of the women in this play display some level of sexual desire, even if it is misplaced in this man of supposed impotence. However, Mrs "Loveitt"s name in particularly gives a slightly negative outlook upon the notion of women chasing after men they desire. The complex natures of the women were also interesting as again, in later English literature this seems to have disappeared a tad. Here the women are at once devious, loving, skeptical, chaste and yet sexual creatures.


Rating:


Have you read it? What did you think?
Steph

Wednesday, 17 December 2014

Book A Day catch Up Pt 2 | Days 13-17

Day 13 | Stocking Filler





So, once again I've fallen behind - this time for a better reason though. I've been up to my neck in hectic essay writing!
This is one of my favourite copies of a text - it's a second hand Twelfth Night I picked up in The Paperback Exchange in Bognor Regis. As my smallest book, this would be a brilliant stocking filler (you'd have to be seriously in my good books though!).

Day 14 | Read at School


This is probably the only school text that I actually own! But it is also one of my faves. Despite my housemate and fellow English Lit student abhorring its existence, I love Fitzgerald's writing.

Day 15 | Favourite Colour Cover


Okay, you might not be able to see a great deal of the colour of this cover, BUT it is my favourite. 

Day 16 | For Someone I Love


Cue a tonne of n'awwws, but I'd give this to my nan. Despite my best efforts, neither my boyfriend, nor my immediate family particularly enjoy reading, or at least see the point in it in a similar way to me. Apart from nan who loves historical fiction. As this is my nicest copy of a Philippa Gregory book, I think I'd give this to her.

Day 17 | Something Funny


Let's be real, is anyone surprised that I chose this? Check out my review of this hilarious novel here. It's got pretty much everything you need for a witty tale of love and loss.

What were your choices?

Steph

Sunday, 16 November 2014

Review of "The Caucasian Chalk Circle"



First thing first, I'm aware that the picture of this book is of startlingly appalling quality. However, as England has become a seat of darkness already this Winter, there's only a very small time period in which decent photos can be taken. As I'm really conscious at the moment of how long it's been since I've written something (over a week, whoops) I really wanted to get this out today, so we'll have to deal with the poor quality picture. Hey, at least it matches the battered copy my student loans graced me with right? 

Anyway, let's talk about the play. Although I should have already read some Brecht, my general lack of motivation (aka laziness) as a first-year student meant that I *cough* overlooked reading Mother Courage and Her Children. So, The Caucasian Chalk Circle is really my first experience of reading Brecht. I have to say, I massively enjoyed it. If you haven't read any, or really feel like reading something that will make you ask questions about modern life this play is brilliant.The quotation above is just a small sample of thought-provoking and often terrifyingly accurate analyses of modern life that the play contains.


The play itself tells you what's going to happen within the prologue, so I can't really spoiler anything, The Caucasian chalk circle, as narrated by Brecht, is a circle which is drawn around an infant when there is a dispute over who the mother is. The two women in question are asked to tug on the infant - whoever pulls him out of the circle hardest and fastest is the legitimate mother. However, there is a twist. Although the judge of the action states these rules, the real mother is in fact the one who lets go - she cares about the child enough to choose his safety over her emotional attachment to him.

The plot follows the story of Grusha, a servant girl working for a governor and his wife. There is a revolt in the city they live in. The governor is killed and the wife, in her haste to save her dresses, runs away and forgets their infant son, Michael. Grusha runs away with the baby, pursued by soldiers who want to kill him. She eventually reaches her brother's house, but her safety is not secured there....

The second half of the plot sees Azdak, a simple man, become a judge during a revolution. Almost like a Robin Hood-esque character, he has a distorted sense of justice, which for once doesn't help the rich and powerful!


There's so many things that could be said about this play that I'll just never be able to articulate. So, I'll just give a brief account on my thoughts, There is a really interesting interplay between the role of women in capitalist society and commodities. Grusha herself is set up to be a commodity from the start: she is a servant, whose sole worth in the mind of her employer is her ability to follow instructions and perform certain tasks with accuracy. She is then further commodified in her ability (or lack thereof) to produce milk for the infant. She views her breast as something that exists to produce milk, but it sadly serves as a reminder to the reader that she is unable to mother the baby on a physical as well as an emotional level. 

There are many provocative moments in the play. I'm not going to bore you, but some of the most potent aspects I found were the connection between the exchange of money and sexual acts/sexual presence, and the idealist understanding of socialist principles. 

What did you guys think? Have you read it?

Love and Light
Steph



Saturday, 8 November 2014

Review of 'The Bird In a Cage'



Firstly, I'm aware this picture is of a horrendous quality, however, as England appears to be entering some kind of Dark Age (and not of the literary variety), our lights have to be on from about 4pm onwards. The sheen makes me want to cry, but hey ho, summer's only seven months away ....




Anyway, as you're all probably aware, I read quite a number of 16th and 17th plays and poems as part of my uni course (have a look at what I think about this period in literature generally here). The Bird In a Cage is a play about a girl named Eugenia whose father, a Duke, imprisons her in a tower in order to preserve her chastity. He wants her to marry a Prince in Florence and doesn't want the potential for this to happen to be destroyed by a wayward suitor getting his wicked way with her. Unfortunately, all of Eugenia's ladies, some of whom already have suitors, are locked away in the tower with her. Philenzo, Eugenia's lover, hatches a plan to secure her hand in marriage. Disguised as Rolliardo, he challenges the Duke: he gets to marry Eugenia if he manages to get past the Duke's defenses surrounding Eugenia. The quotation above encapsulates the Duke's response. 



This play is filled with many conventions of 17th Century humour that is still relevant and funny today. My personal favourite is the scene during which Morello attempts to get access to the tower by dressing up as a woman. This reminded me of the introduction of the Dame in many modern pantomimes. You can almost envision Morello giving the audience a cheeky wink as he swishes his skirts across the stage to try and entrap the guards. Although the following scene in which the guards attempt to "check" his gender appears a bit rapacious, it is clearly intended to be delivered with a great deal of humour.

The Duke's decision to lock Eugenia up in the castle offers an interesting insight into the role of women, and the relationship between women and money. Just as one would lock up one's money in a modern bank, the Duke locks up his most prized possession so that no thieves can access her. It appears as though Eugenia is the Duke's only child. In this respect, his entire wealth rests on her shoulders. In order to create a successful marriage in monetary terms, the Duke needs her to marry whilst she is a virgin. Thus, a daughter's virginity assumes an almost physical value. Without it, a woman is subject to marrying a much poorer man, as no man high up in society is likely to agree to marrying a woman who has been "used". I think every woman or girl reading this play can feel a sense of accomplishment when Philenzo manages to breach the tower and Eugenia can be united with the man she loves, rather than the man her father wants her to love. 

Any comments/questions are always welcome

Love and Light
Steph x

Thursday, 9 October 2014

Review of The White Devil

Let's be real, who wouldn't love a seventeenth-century play brimming with allusions to prostitution, witchcraft and downright misogyny? This quote I believe helps bring to light the paradoxes at the centre of the play. On the one hand, fortune is necessary - she has the power to control lives and does so unheeded. On the other hand, she might leave you with some nasty surprises (and yes, as with most plays of this era, that probably means syphilis). 

I'm not sure whether studying Shakespeare last year has swayed my opinion, but I really think that seventeenth century literature gets a poor reputation as being incredibly dry. The likes of Middleton, Shakespeare and even John Webster at points can be humorous. Having said that, it did make me feel a bit like a 40-year-old crazy cat lady laughing at Middleton last year. Personally, my favourite laughable part of The White Devil was the reference to poisonous Spanish "farts". Although I'm not an especial fan of juvenile humour, I was quite startled to come across it in this centuries-old play. I'm still unconvinced as to whether it makes me revel in the fact that simple humour has stuck around, or despair that we haven't really progressed from finding the word "fart" funny.

Moving on from the humourous aspect, I found the misogynistic elements of the text rather interesting. It is never truly clear whether Webster is handling Vittoria's case as something which supports female empowerment, or degrades it. The scene in which Vittoria's arraignment is described explores this most thoroughly. I wish I had enough space to quote the whole description of whores made by the lawyer, but alas its glorious length is a bit too, well, lengthy. Anyway, to summise, everything which the lawyer states whores are Vittoria is able to simply refute. However, in the refutation of this she alludes to her promiscuity. In this scene the reader is shown that Vittoria is able to speak Latin. She is also eloquent enough to hold a strong argument. During this period female eloquence of speech and licentiousness were deeply connected. Thus the very fact that she speaks is a paradox to her pleading that she is not the lusty creature that she is accused of being.

What were your favourite parts?

Steph x

Friday, 27 June 2014

Cross-dressing in Shakespeare's Plays

Cross-dressing in Shakespeare's plays is often inextricably linked with times of carnival. Although the rituals associated with modern-day carnivals developed from this concept it was obviously incredibly different during the early seventeenth century. Carnival was a period of license in authoritarian England which involved masquerade balls (which are themselves a form of cross-dressing), bouts of drinking, and a general inversion of social hierarchical order. Shrove Tuesday, the May Games and Misrule - the period extending from Christmas to Epiphany - are key dates associated with it. Carnival is followed by a period of lent or fasting.
Shakespeare highlights that Twelfth Night is going to be associated with carnivalesque themes through the very wording of this play's title. Twelfth Night is the last day of the period of Misrule, the most extravagant period of carnival in the year.the tension between carnival life and lent is evident throughout the play, and is potently explored through a multitude of characters' cross dress. the most obvious example of this is Viola who not only re-configures herself physically, but gives herself a man's name: Cesario. Viola subverts the natural hierarchical order of her position in society through this disguise. She recognises that in order to survive the shipwreck socially she must become a man; in this respect she saves her life to a greater extent than the Captain does. Here, to occupy the space of a woman onstage is to render oneself powerless. There is also a great deal of humour created through this disguise as the actor playing Viola in this play would have been a boy playing a woman playing a man. Humour and laughter are tropes of periods of carnival. Moreover, the layers of cross-dressing here hyperbolises the chaotic confusion of social hierarchies which carnival induces. 
It is interesting to see how cross-dressing creates an interplay with one's sexuality. Viola must engage in the language of courtship with Olivia on behalf of Orsino, which results in Olivia's acquisition of a homosexual attachment to Viola. This can evidently never be satisfied. Moreover, Viola's disguise renders the sexual boundaries of her and Orsino's relationship into a state of confusion. When he believes that Viola is a man he recognises the beauty of Viola/Cesario's red lips. Moreover, Orsino continues to call Viola Cesario even after she has revealed her female nature. Perhaps Shakespeare characterises these characters in such a way as to indicate that all genders and sexualities are performative. This allows Olivia's love for Cesario, as well as the homosexual relationship between Antonio and Sebastian, to evade negative connotations. There is a certain fluidity inherent to all gender relations in the play.
Similarly, in As You Like It Rosalind alters her gender in a performative manner in order to evade social ruin. She escapes her town and secures the man she loves as a result of her cross-dressing, This indicates that perhaps socially it is safer to be a man in Elizabethan England rather than a woman. Men, according to psychological theories of this period, were more rational creatures than woman, which may be a reason for Rosalind's success at manipulating her situation and keeping calm whilst she performs as Ganymede. the inverse of this is explored in Titus Andronicus when Titus dresses up as a female cook to enact his bloodthirsty revenge upon Tamora and her sons. The frantic bloodbath which follows highlights the chaotic nature of a woman's hysterical passions. Conversely, In Macbeth Lady Macbeth masculinises herself in order to conduct cold, efficient revenge.
What are your thoughts?
Stephanie

Tuesday, 1 April 2014

Is the greatest downfall of Shakespeare’s male tragic figures the fact that they underestimate the power of women?

The “heroes” of Shakespeare’s tragedies are often said to have a “fatal flaw” which leads them to their ruin. This fatal flaw could be hubris, jealousy, greed, or a variety of other emotions or drives. However, in many of Shakespeare’s tragedies the protagonist’s ruin is inextricably linked with the impact women in the play have upon his life. This appears to be true of Othello, Macbeth, King Lear and Antony and Cleopatra. All of the eponymous men of these tragedies are thwarted because they neither see the plots women are constructing nor do they appear to believe them capable of such a thing.
            Firstly, in Othello both Othello himself and Iago are doomed because they underestimate the power of the women in the play. Othello underestimates the power of Desdemona’s chastity. This leads him to believe Iago’s empty “evidence” for her infidelity and thus kill his newly-wed bride. In a sense Desdemona is powerless because she cannot control the manipulative lies spun by Iago, but the fact that Othello is driven to murder because of her sexual power shows that she has a great deal of this type of power simply because she is a woman. Moreover, the power women have to undermine the power of men in the play is highlighted in the fact that the volta of the play occurs when Emilia hands Iago the handkerchief; this piece of evidence is vital to the construction of his case for Desdemona and Cassio’s affair. Thus, without Emilia Iago may never have had the power to cause Othello’s downfall. Othello could never fathom the idea that Emilia may have stolen the handkerchief from Desdemona and given it to Iago because he is irrational and acts rashly rather than considering other possible ways in which Iago may have ended up with the handkerchief. Iago never acknowledges the help that Emilia gave him and appears to believe that his plot functions purely because of his own brilliant cunning. However, when Emilia exposes Iago to Othello at the end of the play as having constructed the plot which lead to Desdemona’s death Iago appears to realise that he has underestimated her. He underestimated the love that Emilia had for Desdemona, and for this he is ruined.
                        Similarly, the work of Macbeth in his eponymous play is driven forwards by his wife Lady Macbeth. Macbeth never truly appears to recognise to what extent he is controlled by his wife; this underestimation of her power causes his downfall. The murders of his intimate friend Banquo and the King he ought to respect are orchestrated by her. As soon as she latches on to the hope of him gaining power she becomes obsessed with it and drives him to seek more power. For this reason I believe that ambition is Lady Macbeth’s fatal flaw, not Macbeth’s. From the point at which she can see a powerful future, Macbeth becomes somewhat of a puppet for her bidding. Likewise, Antony in Antony and Cleopatra becomes a powerless man when he falls in love with the ambitious Cleopatra. Unlike Lady Macbeth, Cleopatra does not encourage Antony to do anything; he merely does what he thinks she would like him to do because he is so utterly besotted with her. To see a martial man so weakened in this way makes him a figure of ridicule; even his suicide is carried out for such a trivial reason that it is almost laughable. His death is directly caused by the hold that Cleopatra has over him, which even she underestimates. He never appears to understand that she is manipulating him, which allows him to underestimate the power she has over him and thus for her to cause his ruin.

            Lear on the other hand is not ruined by a lover but by his daughters. He does not believe that there could be untruths behind Regan and Goneril’s professions of love for him and thus hands over all of his lands to them. This makes him a powerless figure from very early on in the play as, without his lands, he has lost all of his authority as King. Moreover, he underestimates the fact that Cordelia could be wise and thus disinherits the only daughter who truly loved him. The further plotting of the two landed sisters results in both Lear and Cordelia being imprisoned which is closely followed by their deaths. Finally, by underestimating the power of all three of his daughters Lear not only causes his own ruin, but also that of the country.

Wednesday, 19 February 2014

The relationship between women and male power in Shakespeare’s Othello, Antony and Cleopatra and The Taming of the Shrew

Shakespeare’s plays, written during or shortly after Queen Elizabeth’s reign arguable present women in a relatively positive light. Although they do fall into the three stereotypical types of woman (the mother, the virgin and the whore), they use these roles to their advantage in order to subvert the whims and wills of men. At a time in which women were commonly understood to be subservient to men – although there was a female monarch at this time many people were upset at her lack of a husband to guide her – Shakespeare offers up outspoken, strong-headed, powerful women in the three aforementioned plays.
Firstly, in Othello a contrast is set up between the seemingly shy, subservient Desdemona and her loud, boisterous counterpart Emilia. Desdemona is a rather passive creature throughout the play; often she is only spoken about without being given the chance to air her opinions on things herself. Moreover, she is physically and verbally abused without being able to give a reasonable response to this because of her lack of understanding regarding the irrational (and foolish) actions of her husband. However, even this passive character is introduced to the audience as one who has denied the wishes of her father in staying at home and instead pursued her love affair with a “Moor”. This defiance would have been viewed as being very serious, as, indeed, it is by Brabantio who takes the issue to the Duke. In this way Shakespeare allows his most traditionally “feminine” character to subvert masculine demands for power. Furthermore, Emilia is used to highlight far more explicitly the power women have over men as she not only is responsible for Iago’s plan working so swiftly and smoothly by handing him Othello’s handkerchief, but also reveals his treachery to Othello at the end and thus causes his downfall. It has been argued by critics that Iago’s sole downfall in this play is the fact that he underestimates Emilia’s love for Desdemona: this is what ruins him. Thus she is the real puppet-master at the end of the play which reveals man’s subservience to the power of women.
Secondly, in Antony and Cleopatra the rivalry between Antony and Caesar would be the main plot strand of the play if Cleopatra was not quite so powerful. Antony’s extreme attraction to her, which even leads him to turn his ships around during a naval battle to follow her, makes the whole war almost laughable because it exposes just how controlled men are by their lovers: he is putty in Cleopatra’s hands. Her use of messengers to endlessly find out exactly what Antony is doing at any given time again shows just how much she is controlling him; he cannot do anything without being watched by her. Moreover, she manipulates the progress of the plot in the play: she ensured that Antony was not with his wife to look after his part of the Empire, she made the ships turn around, she directly caused Antony’s suicide, she even dictates Caesar’s actions once Antony is dead and finally she decides when and how she will die. Her aversion of Caesar’s plots highlight the fact that even arguably the most powerful man in the world cannot control a woman: she can always do this herself, even if it means going to extremes.

Finally, in The Taming of the Shrew the main body of the play is a play within the play. It is easy to forget that the play itself is about Christopher Sly and those who are playing a trick on him, it is not about making Katherine more “womanly”. The play in which Katherine and Petruchio play a part is constructed from male fantasy. Shakespeare is merely showing his audience what men believe should happen to outspoken women, not suggesting that all women should be subdued in this manner. The only woman in the play is the hostess of the inn who disappears after line ten having subjected Sly to her power by throwing him out of the public house as though he were an animal. Indeed, Kate arguably never becomes “tamed” as she is given the longest speech in the play at the very end of the play within the play; excessive talking is one of the prerequisites for being classed as a “shrew”. Shakespeare highlights the fact that men believe they have power over women by controlling their marriages as Baptista suggests the marriage between Kate and Petruchio and pursues it until it is done. Petruchio also insists on the marriage occurring without giving any thought to Katherine’s negating his marriage proposal. However, the main reason for the marriage going ahead is that there are other people manipulating the progression of the plot in order that Bianca can be married off; Kate is the only person who can give them that power by being married off herself. in this way Kate directs the whole course of the play and therefore can be seen as the most powerful individual in it. 

Wednesday, 12 February 2014

The relation of flesh to money and value in various literary modes

In this blog piece, the term “flesh” will be used to describe both human and animal bodies. The question of whether flesh and money are inextricably linked appears to require the answer “yes” as throughout history they have been. Not only is there the obvious value in human sexuality through prostitution, which has been prevalent for hundreds and hundreds of years, but also the value of a dead body is important. I am going to discuss three pieces of literature here which discuss the issue of the value of flesh in the 1600s in England, the 1800s in America and the Second World War in Germany. The temporal and spatial spread of these texts allows for some recognition of the universality of the flesh trade.
Firstly, Thomas Middleton’s play A Chaste Maid in Cheapside examines the importance of the value of flesh in a time at which the consumption of meat had been banned. During Lent at this time people were not allowed to buy or sell meat unless it was for someone who was pregnant or very ill and therefore needed it. Thus not only was animal meat incredibly valuable, but also incredibly hard to find. Another level of value was attributed to the meat as a result of the corruption of the officers who were controlling the consumption of meat: bribery was not unheard of. There is an irony in this play in the comparison between animal meat and children. A child is unfortunately misrecognised as being a piece of meat and thus is seized by the officers. The mother, willing to get rid of the child, gladly hands it over to them. Thus, the corruption of the officers resulted in flesh losing them money rather than making them some. Children are valued as being a negative type of meat for some and a positive type for others. For example, for Allwit “his” children are a source of revenue as they allow for his luxurious lifestyle. On the other hand, Touchwood is too fertile and has too many children which are draining his income and so he values them much less. Kix is unable to produce children, and has a lot of money and land which he needs an heir for to pass them down onto and thus children for him are worth more than any kind of physical wealth.
On the other hand, Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian does not value flesh in terms of food or children, but in terms of death. The Glanton gang, which includes all of the main characters in the book, are hunting Native Americans and scalping them to earn their income. There was no difference in value between the scalp of a man, woman or child and so they did not allow for any sympathy for the defenceless women and children of the tribes. In fact, they were an “easy kill” and thus had a greater value to them because they took less time to kill. Indeed, as the book progresses there is a great deal of confusion between the Natives, the Mexicans and even towards the end, the blacks because not only does a dried scalp look the same regardless of race, but the gang kill both Natives and Mexicans without prejudice. Moreover, towards the end there is a great deal of emphasis placed upon the value of flesh in a sexual manner. The mention of “whores” becomes highly prevalent and surrounds the last few chapters of the book. Also, the kid/the man uses a whore for the first time, thus connecting women with value, as well as being raped himself. Once the judge has committed this atrocity to him he finally kills him as his flesh has no value anymore.
A third and different approach to flesh and value comes in the form of Art Spiegelman’s graphic novel Maus. This records his father’s memories of the atrocities committed against human flesh in the Second World War in Poland and in particular in Auschwitz. Vladek, Art’s dad and the main character of the text, was a Jew living in Poland. He emphasises throughout his telling of the events which happened to him the fact that bribery was incredibly important in his survival of the war. He bribes members of the enemy to ensure his survival in Auschwitz, he bribes people to hide him before he is finally captured and he even bribes members of his family to help him. The last point is questioned by his son who can’t understand why one would not save the flesh of a member of his family without requiring payment, but Vladek states that his cousin needed the money to survive. Flesh and money were inextricably linked. Moreover, there is the obvious link between the members of the Nazi party who earned their wages by reducing living human flesh to nothing. This links to the devaluation of flesh in the Second World War as human beings who did not cohere with Hitler’s idea of an Aryan race were made to be worthless. They were treated as though they had no value and came to realise that this was how people thought of them.

When cross-examined, these three texts highlight how human beings are only valued as being worth something in a subjective way. There is no objective value for human flesh. People are worth however much money you lose or gain from their birth or death.

Thursday, 30 January 2014

A Copernican Psychoanalytic Reading of "Hamlet"

            In Freud’s article titled A Difficulty in the Path of Psychoanalysis he outlined three blows which he believed to have been inflicted upon human narcissism. The first blow came from Copernicus, and a history of other scientists before him, who suggested that the earth was not at the centre of the universe. This displaced humans’ importance in the cosmos, and thus was termed the “cosmological blow” to human narcissism. The second came from Darwin who showed that humans were not created in the way in which they exist today, but evolved from other creatures. This removed humans from their pedestal over other animals, and thus was termed the “biological blow” to human narcissism. The third, Freud suggested, came from himself when he suggested that “the ego was not master in its own house”. This is the psychological blow to human narcissism. The ego is the part of the mind, in Freudian terms, which oversees what is going on and channels thoughts into either the conscious or unconscious depending on whether they cohere or go against the needs and wishes of the individual. In suggesting that the ego does not hold power in the mind, Freud indicates that the unconscious does. If one then follows a Laplanchian way of thinking the unconscious is an internal other, which does not come from within the individual, but is created through intromission from the adult to the infant in the primal scene. This primal scene is a scene of seduction, usually one in which the mother places her breast into the child’s mouth. She is consciously telling the child by doing this that she wishes to feed him, but unconsciously is sending enigmatic signifiers (enigmatic because neither child nor adult can translate them) which are sexual. This is a Copernican approach to psychoanalysis because it focuses on the importance of the external other in the creation of one’s unconscious, and indicates that the unconscious is not formed internally, but from the outside.
            To examine Hamlet in a Copernican way his relationship with his mother and father must be examined. The primal scene in this play occurs not between an infant and his mother, but between Hamlet and his father when the ghost comes to Hamlet and tells him of his murder. Intromission here happens through Hamlet’s ear. The ghost is consciously telling Hamlet to kill his uncle, but unconsciously sends an enigmatic signifier regarding Hamlet’s mother’s sexuality. Hamlet’s uncle killed the King and as a result gained the Queen’s (Hamlet’s mother’s) sexual desire; if Hamlet kills the King by the same logic he would gain her desire. This message cannot be translated by Hamlet and so is repressed into his unconscious, but it does drive the action of the play. He uses sexual and violent language to talk to his mother in the closet scene which not only suggests that he is considering her in a sexual manner, but also that he is repressing it. Indeed, during this scene, he stabs Polonius; in a Copernican reading this can be interpreted as him not doing it out of his own fear or suspicion, but it is a sexual act in which he is proving himself for his mother as his sword can be understood to be a phallic symbol.

            Moreover, a Copernican reading of Hamlet would also decentre the protagonist’s Oedipal desires in driving him to act, but instead focuses on his internal other, the unconscious. Hamlet is said to become insane in the play, but another interpretation of this could be that his ego loses control over his unconscious. His Oedipal complex (in which he loves his mother and feels a paradoxical love and hatred towards his father) is only thinly disguised as his need for some kind of justice for his father’s death. Hamlet delays in killing his uncle not because he does not have the means to, or does not wish to kill him, but because to kill his uncle would be a realization of the repressed wishes of his unconscious, placed there by the other. thus his internal other represses his need for revenge because of this reason, but his conscious self cannot see that and believes that he is delaying the murder for logical reasons.