The sixteenth century: a simpler time when watching someone constantly was a nice thing

Last week, we took a bit of break in our project. Since the holidays, we’ve been slightly rushed with our schedule, so we switched out a play due date for a lighter obligation: sonnets. I’ve read only a handful of Shakespeare’s sonnets, but almost all of them strike me with their metaphors and piercing couplets. I had the good luck to look over four that I had never read before, one that I chose at random and three that my companions chose for themselves. For the record, Katy chose Sonnet 27; Liz, 25; Hannah, 64; and me, 61.

I was pleased with my choice: in Sonnet 61, Shakespeare uses an image of thoughts flying away from their owner to another person, an idea also employed in Sonnet 44, my favorite. The speaker describes his (as an English major, I know not to assume that the speaker is male, but we’re not in class and I think the speaker is probably Shakespeare himself so that’s that) sleeplessness, caused by his missing his beloved (whom, although I know also not to assume on this point, I will take to be female; I’m not trying to be heteronormative, but I’m pretty sure Shakespeare wrote this love sonnet to a woman). At first, this is plain “I can’t get to sleep” insomnia, but it intensifies by steps, first to “I can’t sleep because I’m seeing things” and then to “I can’t sleep because I’m seeing thing that are judging me.” I wouldn’t think this was a common problem, but let’s go with it.

All of this information is framed in questions, as you’ll see plainly if you read the sonnet; the speaker asks the beloved if she’s causing each of the stages. He answers his own question at the start of the third quatrain, and at this point it becomes clear that the questions are meant to indict the beloved. She’s not sending any thoughts or spirits to him; she doesn’t care about him enough to do such a thing! The implication, growing up to the end of the poem, is that the speaker wants his spirit to haunt her—because that’s what love is all about. The difference in how he perceives their feelings towards each other—her love is “much,” but his is “great” (line 9)—reveals the speaker’s sense of superiority. These two words could be synonyms, but “great” carries an implication of nobility and pride with it; no matter how much she loves him, his love is more self-sacrificing, more caring, and just of a better quality overall. Another distinction, brought to my attention by Helen Vendler in her book The Art of Shakespeare’s Sonnets, appears in the first line of the couplet. Here, the speaker “watch[es]” or sits up alertly while the beloved merely “wake[s]” or is conscious (line 13).

The final line delivers that punch that I appreciate about the sonnets so much. For the entire poem, the speaker talks about himself and the beloved; there is no third party in his sleeplessness or love. But at the last moment, he reveals a third party in the beloved’s life: “others” (line 14). This single word illuminates the speaker’s feelings of the last thirteen-and-a-half lines. He’s upset and restless because he spends all of his attention and efforts on her while she fills her time with these “others.”

We talked about how creepy this is. I suppose the concept of stalking is just one of those modern sensibilities. Nevertheless, I could relate to some of these words, and that’s what I think poetry is for.

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An Unrequited Love Story

As we finished reading All’s Well that Ends Well, I couldn’t help but think of a romantic comedy I guiltily love to watch called The Holiday.

The movie begins with Kate Winslet’s character lamenting over how there are no love stories about what she identifies as the “cruelest kind of love”—unrequited love. Well, long before this movie was made, Shakespeare decided to write a love story about unrequited love, and he titled it All’s Well that Ends Well.

(Before I go any further,  here is a summary of the play that will hopefully be helpful if you need to familiarize yourself with the plot.) 

The central question in both The Holiday and this play is: “What do you do when you love a man who does not and will not love you back?” This question brings us to one of the points we discussed most, which was Helena’s character and the extremes she goes to to be with the man she loves. Helena is definitely a complex character. We are told from every other character in the play that she is virtuous, wise, fair, good, sweet, and the list goes on and on praising her wonderful qualities. Furthermore, there is nothing that she says that actually contradicts those qualities lauded by the others. We can easily see her as a catch. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to be with such a fantastic person? And yet we see and follow the drastic measures she takes to be with Bertram. Helena is intense to the point where she can be seen as manic and even, I’ll admit, a little bit scary. I say this because after she finds a way to have her marriage to Bertram arranged—a marriage he did not want—she continues to do whatever it takes to be with him, ignoring any consequences that may occur to others. First, she fakes her death which leaves many mourning for her life, especially the Countess and the king, who deeply care about her. Then she involves Diana, the woman Bertram is actually interested in, in her scheme to trick Bertram into consummating their marriage. Both women participate in what is known as “the bed trick.” Katy informed us that this is a plot device commonly used in folklore and traditional literature; in this case, Bertram thinks he is sleeping with Diana but, under the mask and hush of night, sleeps with Helena instead.  By doing so, he unintentionally consummates their marriage vow and impregnates her. Diana, though, faces harsh ridicule from the king for her trickery until Helena arrives and clears everything up. Lastly, throughout the whole play, she completely disregards Bertram’s wants; he ultimately has no say.

So, Helena can sound pretty horrible. But don’t forget all those good qualities we know Helena to have, and note that throughout the entire play Shakespeare depicts Bertram in such a negative way that it is tremendously difficult to be sympathetic toward him. Bertram is described as a selfish, immature, and pompous man. To make matters worse, the only reason he verbally gives for not wanting to marry Helena is her status; she doesn’t come from noble blood. And as far as Bertram is concerned, there will be no mudbloods! Now to play devil’s advocate, we discussed as a group that perhaps our own harsh judgment on Bertram is unfair. After all, you love who you love, right? There may be a woman out there that seems perfect on paper and whom everybody likes, but you just do not and cannot love her. As I have mentioned, Helena is intense. Then again, Shakespeare never gives Bertram a moment of struggle or reasoning for not wanting to marry Helena. With that omission, we only know that he refuses to have his status be brought down by marrying a poor physician’s daughter, no matter how much the other nobility love and approve of her.

We are left with the notion that love truly can make you do crazy things, especially when it is unrequited. Love or lack of love can’t always be explained. However, instead of forcing it, one should take a step back (or take a holiday to another country) to realize that someone else out there is worthy of all your awesomeness and will tolerate even your most manic moments because that’s what true love does.  After all, “all’s well that ends well” does not carry the same ring as “they all lived happily ever after.”

 

 

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“My Drops of Tears I’ll Turn to Sparks of Fire”

While most of the characters in Shakespeare’s Henry VIII are very hard to like, the play holds some character gems that are both interesting and well-developed.  I’ll be honest: I was not compelled to care about any of the characters in Henry VIII until our book discussion on the play.  I also have Gregory Doran and Gregory Thompson, both of whom directed a production of the plan in association with the Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC), to thank for enlightening me on the merits of this play.  For that matter, it’s thanks to the RSC that I even heard the opinions of Gregory and Gregory, because the copy of the play that I purchased is one published by the RSC and includes interviews with the two directors.

For those who are unfamiliar with Shakespeare’s version of Henry VIII’s story, here is a pretty handy-dandy summary for you to peruse.

This play is primarily a political thriller, and you don’t have to be very knowledgeable about history to follow the manipulation and political corruption.  Though the play is one of Shakespeare’s ten history plays, and was pretty clearly a political tribute made by the Bard to King James I, the themes of trust, betrayal, and misusing political power do transcend the play’s historical context and are clearly still applicable to modern politics.  It is one of Shakespeare’s less-produced plays, perhaps because it was during this play that the Globe Theatre burnt down, or perhaps because of the elaborate coronation scene, but it is nevertheless a story still relevant to our time and worth exploring.

The themes of this play are not the only aspects that transcend time.  Henry VIII also holds one of Shakespeare’s strongest and most famous female characters, Queen Katherine.  While reading the play, I thought Katherine to be a pretty weak character until I reached Act IV, Scene 2.  In that scene I realized how sarcastic or, better yet, sassy she was.  I initially though of her as a weak character because she was in the position of the victim, with King Henry and Cardinal Wolsey working on her divorce and deposition.  Looking back, however, it becomes clear that though she had little power, what power she did have she held on to and fought for with great ferocity.  Whereas Buckingham did not stand up for himself at all when he was mistreated by the King at Wolsey’s advising, Katherine remained dignified and fought to remain with the man that she loved.  I would love to see how this plays out in a production of the play because Katherine truly is one of Shakespeare’s strongest female leads.  Her tenacity is displayed and summarized in her comment to Wolsey in Act II, Scene 4:

Sir, I am about to weep: but, thinking that

We are a queen, or long have dreamed so, certain

The daughter of a king, my drops of tears

I’ll turn to sparks of fire.

Queen Katherine of Aragon from The Tudors

While Katherine is the strongest character in the play, I do have to give Henry some credit.  Again, I didn’t think much of him while reading, but the director’s commentary that I read in the appendices of my copy of the play pointed out how much character development we see from Henry.  He learns how and who to trust and takes control of his manipulative court.  His character development is the underlying element that connects this otherwise episodic plot together.  Henry comes in to his own as a King and learns not only to be aware but also to be in control of what is going on around him.  This specific focus or angle on the character is not the typical portrayal of Henry VIII we see in most adaptations of his story, but then, Shakespeare had to portray Henry VIII in a good light for political reasons, as he was King James I’s great-grand-uncle.  Talk about headache-inducing politics!

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