The World Sans Shakespeare
In the discussion in an older article from a few months ago, one comment brings up a point that got me thinking. I’d like to pose it to you all in a more prominent spot.
What if Shakespeare’s works never existed or didn’t survive? Who would we be reading/acting/studying?
We have John Heminges and Henry Condell to thank for Shakespeare’s prominence in literature in drama around the world today. All because of the Folio they published. But what if none of that had happened? Which of Shakespeare’s contemporaries would hold the spotlight today?
Who would students be complaining about studying instead? Johnson? Marlowe? Fletcher? Beaumont? Would we have Middleton festival theatres around the world? Or none of these? Maybe we’d have a list of the top three Elizabethan poets. Might society today instead look past Elizabethan and Jacobean drama and study Dryden instead? Or maybe later still all the way to George Bernard Shaw. Who knows?
It could make for an interesting episode of The Twilight Zone.
Posted on January 30, 2009
Susan Jan 30, 2009
My heart. It hurts. No Shakespeare? What about the English language? Many words and phrases became part of common English because of Shakespeare!
Gedaly Jan 30, 2009
Yes, it’s impossible to ignore Shakespeare’s influence on the English language, but for the sake of this hypothetical situation we’ll have to throw out some facts.
Kent Richmond Feb 2, 2009
Shakespeare missing from live theater would leave a gap to wide to even imagine. He is still the most performed dramatist, even in places that never hear him in English.(That’s right. It’s not his particular brand of English that accounts for his popularity–Most people study and hear him performed in modern translations into other languages).
In the schools, at least in California where I live, Shakespeare fills three spots in the curriculum. The kids tend to read “Romeo and Juliet at age 14, “Julius Caesar” at age 15, and “Macbeth” (or sometimes “Hamlet” or “Othello”) at age 17. If they read a comedy at all, it tends to be “Midsummer Night’s Dream” or “The Merchant of Venice.” Filling three spots would cause little disruption and might even spring open the curriculum a bit to allow a wider experience. When I asked my college students what they liked reading in high school, they seemed to like “Antigone” more than anything they read by Shakespeare. Of course, they get to read Sophocles in the modern translation by Robert Fagles.
So perhaps the ancients would get wider coverage.
Randall Findlay Feb 10, 2009
Fascinating question! Having read a number of Renaissance dramatists, I’m not sure one leaps into the void. Marlowe’s oeuvre is slim (although the canon is full of authors remembered for fewer); Jonson’s too. Beaumont and Fletcher wrote a lot, but how much of it inspires us? I wonder if we’d make more of Milton and “Paradise Lost” (not that it goes significantly unremarked), but we wouldn’t be acting it much.
My father makes a case for Congreve (“Way of the World”). I’m not sure I agree. Shakespeare, while a genius, also arrives at a time when culture is remaking itself. The resultant themes — relation between man and God, justice, art, etc. — capture our attention again and again. Does comedy of manners do the same?
If I were without Shakespeare, I’d turn to the poetry of the time, from “Beowulf” to Chaucer to “The Faerie Queene” to Milton, staying focused on the enlightenment of Renaissance Christian humanism. But I don’t think I’d approach it with the same overwhelming joy I have teaching Shakespeare.
Willshill Feb 15, 2009
Gedaly, sorry for the detour–but I think we’re already on one anyway.
Dr. Richard Flatter, in “Shakespeare’s Producing Hand” states:
“…if by nothing else but the technical process of copying him, I could hardly fail to learn something about my own master’s technicalities, his versification, punctuation, rhythm, and so forth[...]things that I think are distinctive features of Shakespeare’s peculiar diction: the hall-marks, so to speak, of his forge.”
Dr. Flatter had, prior to this statement, translated into German (in addition to the Sonnets) eighteen of the plays. Nowhere does he forsake the “peculiarities” of Shakespeare if he can in any way help from doing so, much less advocate supplanting them. (That’s right, not even when the line, sense of poetry, versification, or language presents a difficulty which might, at first look, be more easily solved through simplifying it–in German.)
Gedaly, I didn’t suppose your hypothetical “…throw out some facts” had anything to do with throwing out the fact that the plays are already written in the English Language.
I fail to see the relevance of comparing wholesale linguistic translations to ‘modernizations’. Literal translations are absolute necessities in countries where English is not the native language. Unlike Sophocles or Aristophanes,here the translation of Hamlet into ‘another language’ is superfluous. The argument in itself holds no water and even if it did, it does nothing to support the idea that we would be reading anything in particular because it had been dealt a ‘modern’ translation.
Perhaps the term ‘modern translation’ deserves an Oxford reevaluation. Certainly someone ‘translating’ the Ancients in 2009 has the obligation to also ‘transmit’ the colloquial–not just in the language– of the Ancients. A sense awareness of the time and atmosphere of the piece is otherwise Lost…or would “Street Talk” be okay with Ovid?
I also disagree with the idea that “It’s not his particular brand of English that accounts for his popularity.” It might be of profit for some to argue that in the act of translating Shakespeare into another language–Russian or Swedish or Latvian, that his genius with the language is unceremoniously tossed aside, or transmogrified, or supplanted, or thought to be… singularly unimportant.
It is precisely Shakespeare’s particular(or ‘peculiar’,as Dr. Flatter puts it)facility with not just his language–but with OUR language–that accounts for his popularity.
The structure and form, as Dr. Flatter so definitely illustrates, isn’t dismissed so easily.
Simply put, No One has ever been as good at it. It seems as though the possibility exists that the truth of that may stand into perpetuity. Perhaps that’s why it’s importance is so easily dismissed by those who might otherwise care.
But looke, the Morne in Russet mantle clad,
Walks o’re the dew of yon high Eastern Hill,
Beauty so unquestionable…shouldn’t be questioned.
Kent Richmond Feb 15, 2009
The notion that Shakespeare should be part of the curriculum because he contributed so much to the language strikes me as a desperate justification. We include him because he is our greatest artist and of historical importance to understanding the development of the literature that preceded and followed him.
The King James version of the Bible contributed much, much more to the English language than Shakespeare did, yet I hear no one arguing that it should be essential reading in our schools. We now find it too tiring to follow, too easily misunderstood. Is Shakespeare, who was certainly trying to be difficult, now too easily misunderstood as well? When Polonius says to Laertes lines like these,
..And you are stayed for. There—my blessing with thee,
And these few precepts in thy memory
See thou character…
Nor any unproportioned thought this act…
…and their adoption tried…
Bear’t that th’opposed may beware of thee…
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment…
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry
Is it not important for the audience to know what he means? These lines, running quickly at an audience, are now so opaque they might as well be in German. Is it enough for us just to get drunk on the sound of the words? Or couldn’t thoughtful verse and structure preserving translations bring out nuance and reveal why those who study him so closely are convinced of his greatness?
In a humorous article titled “The Shakespearean Tragedy” in his book “The Word on the Street,” John McWhorter says,
“To ask a population to rise to the challenge of taking literature to heart in a language they do not speak is as unreasonable as it is futile. The challenge we must rise to is to shed our fear of language change and give Shakespeare his due—restoration to the English-speaking world.”
Act3, Scene 1 of “King Lear” has this famously difficult passage that productions tend to omit. Here the loquacious Kent rattles off an update on the kingdom’s troubles.
KENT.
Sir, I do know you,
And dare, upon the warrant of my note,
Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,
Although as yet the face of it be covered
With mutual cunning, ‘twixt Albany and Cornwall,
Who have,–as who have not, that their great stars
Throne and set high?–servants, who seem no less,
Which are to France the spies and speculations
Intelligent of our state; what hath been seen,
Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes,
Or the hard rein which both of them have borne
Against the old kind king; or something deeper,
Whereof, perchance, these are but furnishings…
Would it be so bad if audiences only had to deal with this?
Kent.
I know you, sir
And will, upon the strength of what I see,
Entrust to you a vital task. A rift,
Though mutual sleight-of-hand still hides its face,
Divides the dukes of Albany and Cornwall,
Who—as don’t all whom guiding stars enthrone
And set on high?—have servants, so they seem,
Who work for France as spies and keen observers
Reporting on our state. What has been seen,
In either plots and squabbles of the dukes,
Or the hard reins the two of them have tugged
Against the kind old king, or something deeper
And in which case, these things may serve as pretexts…
(from King Lear: A Verse Translation)
This passage is still a mouthful consistent with Kent’s character, and it sounds like Kent (meaning it sounds like Shakespeare). It is still challenging, and it exposes students to words and phrases that enrich our language. It is even in iambic pentameter typical of what Shakespeare used in his later plays. Yet it is a lot more accessible.
Willshill Feb 16, 2009
“To ask a population to rise to the challenge of taking literature to heart in a language they do not speak is as unreasonable as it is futile. The challenge we must rise to is to shed our fear of language change and give Shakespeare his due—restoration to the English-speaking world.”___________________
This prompts a couple of questions:
1)Is abject avoidance of anything that’s ‘fearful’ or ‘difficult’ in any way conducive to the elimination of that fear or difficulty? 2)How does throwing up one’s hands when faced with SHAKESPEARE “…give Shakespeare his due—restoration to the English-speaking world.”?
World-renowned linguist David Crystal has done more than theorize about the question of whether or not Shakespeare speaks our language. He’s been through the entire Canon, line by line, establishing a concrete, technical data bank from which to draw his conclusions concerning the “difficulty”.
It turns out that we already know at least 85% or more of Shakespeare’s words. The matter of understanding Shakespeare has more to do with, as he says, collocation:
http://www.davidcrystal.com/DC_articles/Shakespeare29.pdf
The King James bible (being the most prevalent ‘hard copy’ of any book available at the time) did more to conservatively normalize the language than it did to contribute to its evolution. Shakespeare caused it to blossom.
In any case, the rant about vocabulary only narrows the playing field of discussion and, in so doing, eliminates the proving ground of Context. It also eliminates the wealth of knowledge available within the parameters of Context. As any of my first grade students can tell you, we must know what a ‘Muse’ is before we can understand what is meant by “a Muse of Fire”. This takes us on a trip to the dictionary, an excursion too often eschewed these days. Contributing to a serious case of laziness, while using fear to legitimize a solution so like in character to that laziness is not, by any means, the answer. On another section of this blog you asked the question: “Why is it important for children so young to appreciate Shakespeare? What’s the rush?”*
*See above for PART of the answer.
Willshill Feb 16, 2009
“To ask a population to rise to the challenge of taking literature to heart in a language they do not speak is as unreasonable as it is futile. The challenge we must rise to is to shed our fear of language change and give Shakespeare his due—restoration to the English-speaking world.”
______________________________________________________
The above sounds rather high-minded in intent–theoretically, that is. Logically, however, it prompts a couple of questions:
1)How is the avoidance of anything fearful conducive to the elimination of the fear of that something? 2)In answering question one honestly, how could it follow that we would then be giving SHAKESPEARE ” …his due-restoration to the English-speaking world.” ?
World-renowned linguist David Crystal does a little more than theorize about the “difficulty” of Shakespeare’s language. He’s been through the entire Canon–line by line–and has established a concrete technical data base from which he(and thus We)can draw concrete conclusions re: Shakespeare’s “difficult words”. As it turns out, 85% or more of Shakespeare’s words are known by speakers of modern English (conservatively low, since he doesn’t include, in that 85%, variant coinages of words we already know–”vasty fields of France”(vast), for instance. The whole article is here:
http://www.davidcrystal.com/DC_articles/Shakespeare29.pdf
People interested in the truth about why they think Shakespeare is “too difficult” would do themselves a great service by taking a couple of minutes to look at Mr. Crystal’s background and vast experience with not only Shakespearean literature, but with the English language as well: http://www.davidcrystal.com/
Among very many he’s written, there is also an article which provides a more thorough and fair examination about the contribution of the King James version of the bible vs. Shakespeare’s contribution to the language.
Any one of my first grade students can tell you that before we can understand what is meant by “…a Muse of Fire”, we must first know what a ‘muse’ might be. This takes a trip to the dictionary. We don’t need translators to eliminate the need for that excursion.
A rant about vocabulary is missing the point–it disingenuously eliminates the rest of the equation.
It’s all about Context. Remove the need for work inspired by collocation; remove the need for colloquy; narrow the playing field; narrow the opportunity for discovery; narrow the Mind.
In another section of the website, you asked the question:
“Why is it important for children so young to appreciate Shakespeare? What’s the rush? Schools sure have an inflated sense of their importance.”
You now have a small part of what would be MY answer.
Willshill Feb 16, 2009
Duhhh…
Apologies for the double posting–thought I’d completely lost the first, as it didn’t post immediately, and had to do a re-write.
Kent Richmond Feb 16, 2009
I am a big fan of David Crystal’s encyclopedias and use his dictionary in my translation work. As much as I admire Crystal, I think he underestimates the difficulty of Shakespeare’s language.
Crystal’s argument is that only a small fraction of the words Shakespeare’s uses (about 10%) are unfamiliar to us. And in any extended passage, that number will obviously be lower. Reading comprehension studies show that if we can keep the number of unfamiliar words below 2-3%, then we have enough context to handle a passage without too much frustration.
Of course, many Shakespeare passages at first glance fall within the acceptable range, but because Shakespeare’s variety of English is so distant from us, other complications are at work. Crystal, it seems, ignores or underestimates these. Here is an excerpt from a paper I gave at NCTE a couple of years ago that explains why these difficulties make listening to or reading Shakespeare a slow, frustrating process.
Teachers often warn students about “false friends”—words that we recognize but are used differently by Shakespeare. One common “false friend” is the word “want.” When Romeo says “A thousand times the worse, to want thy light,” he is not saying it is bad to desire Juliet; he fears living without her. Another false friend betrays us when Juliet says,
O, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
Readers spot the word “wherefore” and think they have a friend because the “where” part seems familiar. But Juliet is not asking “Where are you, Romeo?” She knows where he lives. She is asking why her true love has to be Romeo, an enemy. Misled by this false friend, inexperienced theatergoers see Juliet as a dreamy, lovesick adolescent when in fact her first thoughts go directly to the source of her conflict—the hatred between their families.
False friends are so common in Shakespeare that even counting them is a challenge. As a translator, I have learned that no friend can be trusted. What about Polonius’ admonition to “see thou character.” Can you trust “see” and “character?” Better not. It means something like “carefully write this.”
The slipperiest problem is what I call strange partners.
The vocabulary of a language does not consist of words alone, for we all recognize that words often combine to form stable, oft-repeated phrases that express a single concept. Shakespeare contributed many of these “figures of speech” to the English language. When we say someone “vanished into thin air” or “is tongue-tied,” we are quoting Shakespeare. But Shakespeare also used countless expressions that have not survived. Even a careful reader may not pick up that Sampson’s “we’ll not carry coals” means “suffer humiliation patiently” or that “draw your neck out of collar” probably means “avoid a hanging.”
Obviously, Shakespeare loved such colorful phrasing, and they both delight and challenge us today. But Shakespeare also made heavy use of a more restricted kind of word partnership, one that linguists call “a lexical phrase.” A lexical phrase is a “frozen” stretch of language that can be used as a piece of a sentence. Shakespeare made constant use of lexical phrases, a good many of them now centuries out of fashion. Some examples are “in fine” (=to conclude), “make that good” (=explain that), “say’st me so” (=you don’t mean that), “by mine honest” (=truly), and hundreds more. Naturally, our understanding suffers because these phrases are essential for linking ideas and showing speaker attitude.
So what is a strange partner? Strange partners occur when words sound odd when used together. Shakespeare is difficult today partly because many of his partnerships seem strange. The word “great,” for instance, takes on unexpected partners in Shakespeare’s plays: great persuasion, great preservation, great of birth, a great natural, great leaves fall, great creation, great prediction, and great aspect. Strange partners complicate our ability to determine which sense of the word Shakespeare intended. When he used great, did he mean gigantic, large, extensive, plentiful, high-ranking, extraordinary, chief, or main?
These partnerships, often called collocations, are certainly a messy part of language—no dictionary can hope to list them all—but they may be essential to speedy processing of speech by making much of what we say more predictable.
Take, for example, what you know about the word “evidence.” The noun “evidence” partners with the noun “piece” as in “a piece of evidence,” with verbs such as present, collect, find, hear, and provide, and adjectives such as convincing, damaging, incriminating, strong, and anecdotal. The sentence “She presented several pieces of convincing evidence” sounds quite natural to us and we can quickly process it. But what if I said it this way: “She transmitted multiple slices of inducing evidence.” The sentence seems creative, but it also takes us much, much longer to process and think about what it might mean. Shakespeare’s language is so loaded with strange partners that our comprehension is greatly impeded and slowed down even if we know the meanings of the individual words.
I originally framed this paper as a response to an interview Crystal had given, but due to time limitations I cut that part out, including this line: “The more you know about Shakespeare’s language, the less qualifed you become to judge its difficulty.”
Willshill Feb 20, 2009
We’re both fans of David Crystal. A singular concurrence so far.
As for reading Shakespeare, any and all of the problems you mention can be solved with good annotation.
quote:
“The vocabulary of a language does not consist of words alone, for we all recognize that words often combine to form stable, oft-repeated phrases that express a single concept.”
Taken in the context of performing him, I once again agree–but
Remove those rhythms associated with the colloquial, colorful, and connatural; callously kiss concordant character calumniously.
It’s the actor’s charge to transMIT, not transLATE,to the audience the sense of “See thou Character”. The prefatory line, “And these few Precepts in thy memory” clearly sets it up–enough,though it be mere ‘gist’– and what follows is clearly an admonition thought to be important enough to set up the ‘harangue’ ‘characteristic’ of Polonius.
Admittedly, the audience will not, by any means, understand the text as well as if it were being spoken in meticulously translated form in a sterile colloquial fashion by the next door neighbor. But seriously, who the heck would want to take the time to investigate that rendition anyway? It’s…BOOOOORING.
I think it’s important to note that upwards of 700 groundlings in the yard of the Globe would have also had trouble with some of Shakespeare’s “phraseology”, as well as with his penchant for the functional shift, no less jarring to the ear than are words heard for the first time.
My first impulse when someone utters a word unknown to me, is to find out what the heck THAT MEANS. The curiosity of first through fifth graders in the same regard tells me well enough, that to throw water on that Fire by speaking in ‘another language’ –other than as a simple means of on the spot definition– is to remove an opportunity for learning. A language worth learning, as with anything worth learning, is best begun at the earliest age possible. But, as you’ve said, “What’s the rush?”
I get the feeling that we might discuss this until…the proverbial…and never come to any further agreement. Anyway, Shakespeare is for DOING. It’s only then that we might truly understand him. Any ‘short cuts’ to ‘understanding’ and “the road less traveled” becomes o’ergrown with weeds. Soon there’s no road there at all.
So I think it may well be to the point to once again ask the question I’ve asked others : What happens to SHAKESPEARE? Shall we take the time it takes to become aware that he is worth investigating? Or shall he be ‘translated’ into obscurity? If the latter, What’s the Rush?
Kent Richmond Feb 20, 2009
You are setting up a false dilemma. Why can’t we have both? In fact, we already do have both. I know because I have written five verse translations and am working on a sixth.
You also assume that any translation will be sterile. Why would the translations be this way when they have Shakespeare to guide them? Are translations of Moliere, Chekov, Ibsen, and Sophocles sterile and colloquial? No they are quite good.
And don’t underestimate those groundlings. They were 400 years closer to that dialect than any of us are and heard it everyday of their lives. They would have had a much stronger intuitive sense of when Shakespeare was being difficult or unusual or when a character was being boring. We no longer have a strong feel for that dialect. Without help from a teacher, actor, or annotation, we don’t know that Polonius is boring. And not one in a thousand people knows what “see thou character” means no matter how helpful the preceding line is. That is why it is always glossed in the friendlier editions. Our level of comprehension is much, much lower than a groundling’s, even one hard of hearing.
Willshill Feb 21, 2009
quote: “You are setting up a false dilemma. Why can’t we have both? In fact, we already do have both. I know because I have written five verse translations and am working on a sixth.”
Hoisting the ‘fact’ that “we already do have both” to a position of legitimacy simply because you have, or anyone else has, written them is the crux of the dilemma, and doesn’t address what that fact might truly mean:
That you might eliminate the need, reward, wealth, and most importantly, the worthiness of studying SHAKESPEARE AS HE IS.
Certainly, from all you’ve said in the negative about “Shakespeare”, supplantation–at least for the ‘un-scholarly’– would be the logical result.
As I have asked of someone who writes versions in modern language for students: When do you, or do you at all, advocate to those who would be your patrons and/or customers, that they eschew your versions and begin to investigate SHAKESPEARE?
So far, he has chosen not to answer the question.
Are there any serious provisos, emphasizing what I have mentioned, attached to your work in this regard?
Gedaly Feb 21, 2009
A lot of this goes back to whether Shakespeare is for study on the page or on the stage. As Willshill said, the actor’s job is transmit, not translate. The important part is that the audience knows what’s going on, not the definition of every single word. Good quality productions do that quite well… unfortunately, there are many poor productions that only add to the confusion.
“You also assume that any translation will be sterile. Why would the translations be this way when they have Shakespeare to guide them? Are translations of Moliere, Chekov, Ibsen, and Sophocles sterile and colloquial? No they are quite good.”
In my experience as an actor and director I have come across very few good translations of Moliere, Chekhov, Ibsen, and Sophocles. Most are done by scholars who attempt to do a literal translation or attempt to keep a meter in the text for the classical pieces, but fail to retain the imagery, poetry, or comprehensibility of the text, rendering them sterile.
I don’t think that comparing translations from French, Russian, or Greek into English are great comparisons for talking about “translating” Shakespeare. The average, modern, english-speaking audience watching a play in Greek will understand none of it while they will understand, as stated before, most of Shakespeare’s words.
Willshill Feb 22, 2009
quote: “In my experience as an actor and director I have come across very few good translations of Moliere, Chekhov, Ibsen, and Sophocles. Most are done by scholars who attempt to do a literal translation or attempt to keep a meter in the text for the classical pieces, but fail to retain the imagery, poetry, or comprehensibility of the text, rendering them sterile.”
Yes, and in fact, Dr. Flatter illustrates this point as it ‘translates’ (forgive) to scholarly editing in his book, “Shakespeare’s Producing Hand” , with voluminous examples from Ford, Fletcher, Jonson, etc., and why this is particularly important when it comes to Shakespeare. As he proves, contrary to all other writers of plays in his time, the dynamics of dramatics, not the correctness of the versification, were what concerned Shakespeare the most, and Flatter gives full credence to the Bard as actor/producer first. His work has, I believe, partly led to a major shift in attitude about the First Folio as Play Text vs. Literary Fossil. Flatter bows to F1 whenever it makes more sense to do so ( a great deal of the time). Jonathan Bates edited the RSC’s fairly recent publication of the complete works using F1 as the control text whenever possible.
Kent Richmond Feb 23, 2009
I came across a copy of Flatter’s book about 10 years ago when a colleague of mine at CSULB retired and was thinning out his library. Before starting on my translation project, I read the book to help me get a feel for techniques I wanted to carry over into my verse translations.
Curiously, I saw Flatter’s book as a tool for helping me procede with translation.
Flatter’s book was interesting, but I doubt that Shakespeare’s “autograph” was polished enough in its layout to give us much confidence in some of Flatter’s conclusions. I understand the RSC’s logic for using the First Folio. We need, though, to be cautious in assuming there is a single, correct edition of the plays. Even if we someday find copies of the plays in Shakespeare’s hand, we still can argue about what actually happened on the stage.
Do you buy that notion Flatter has about pauses and short lines? Flatter seems to think that the beat in each missing foot works as some sort of stage direction. Shakespeare wrote 2,762 short lines (in addition to 4,475 shared lines). Were those missing beats really a cue to mark time on the stage? Pretty unlikely if you ask me.
And I have read good translations of Moliere, Chekhov, Ibsen, and Sophocles. It is silly to deny that such things exist.
Willshill Feb 23, 2009
quote: “Curiously, I saw Flatter’s book as a tool for helping me procede with translation.”
I think , had he known what you advocate, that he would have found the preceding notion somewhat more ‘curious’, than you found the results of his work ‘curiously’ helpful.
quote: “Do you buy that notion Flatter has about pauses and short lines?”
It’s a well known fact that as Shakespeare became a more accomplished Dramatist, the incidence of caesura shows a marked increase-his work becomes less versified and more conversational. And the ‘short’ lines can be headless, tailless, or provide an opportunity for “… some necessary Question of the Play [to] be then to be considered.” (F1 Hamlet) This holds true, as far as an explanation for their employment goes, for 11 beat lines– commonly referred to as those with ‘weak’ or ‘feminine’ endings–Shakespeare used more than any other known dramatist of the 1580s & 90s; alexandrines, and what I affectionately refer to, passed on to me by a wonderful instructor/director in my training, as “fourteeners”. WS employed all of these as catalytic tools in coloring characterization, emotion, and dramatic tension and interaction.
Of course, literary scholars must always find a way to emend (translation=’correct’) Shakespeare, leaving a double-edged opportunity for them to elevate themselves while placing Shakespeare under the heel of the foot they use to ascend to the pedestal. They’ve been at it since that self-proclaimed genius (read, egotist) Alexander Pope thought he knew better than Shakespeare himself, what Shakespeare “didn’t intend” or “couldn’t have known”.
Do you seriously suppose that Shakespeare was that “Bad” at writing verse, and was the literary bumpkin–tripping over himself at every turn in his attempt to employ verse–that Pope made him out to be? Or can you not recognize the real genius when you see (or read) one? Even Ben Jonson was left no choice but to qualify his censure of Shakespeare as a ‘non-scholar’, admitting that his genius was of a “different” mystical, or possibly “peculiar”? kind–but so positively alive that he extolled its virtues:
For though the Poets matter, Nature be
His Art doth give the fashion.And,that he Who casts to write a LIVING line,must sweat,
(Such as thine are) and strike the second heat
Upon the Muses anvile; turne the same,
(And himselfe with it) that he thinkes to frame;
Or for the lawrell, he may gain a scorne,
For a good Poet’s made, as well as borne,
And such were thou.
(“Living” caps mine–all others Jonson’s)
The answer is always–yes, but Jonson said other things not quite as nice.–Yes, but they referred to the technicality of Shakespeare’s “scholarly” ability, which Jonson never accepted.
–Gotta have that sheepskin fella.
“His Art doth give the fashion.”… “a living line”
Either Shakespeare was one of the few truly capable theatrical/literary alchemists in history; a genius at his trade, (WRITING FOR ACTORS IN THE THEATRE) or he was a stupid actor who just happened to “step in it”–over and over and over and over again. If so, what curiously repetitive propitious accidents Fate prescribed for him.
quote: “We need, though, to be cautious in assuming there is a single, correct edition of the plays.”
This goes without saying–doesn’t it?–
–Except, of course, in the cases where the decision is made to have verse and prose reverse roles, finish or adjust every line possible to pristine and “proper” iambic “poetry”, decide exactly who is finishing who’s line–and therefore, thought–reducing true living dialogue to mindless recitation; add–mostly exclamation points– &/or “correct” several thousand punctuation marks; Shakespeare’s decisions, whatever they may have been ( the number of quartos or folios available for choices notwithstanding) unimportant as issues that would inspire investigation relative to the Theatre–Shakespeare’s only goal in the case of the Plays.
And do you suppose that every re-write (aka “emendation”) based in some way on every edit (again, “correction”) that came after Pope (actually after Rowe, who based his on the fourth folio–itself doubtful) and immediately before the latest one, has had no effect on not only the “informed intelligentsia’s” perception, but also on their opinion, of Shakespeare?
quote: “Shakespeare wrote 2,762 short lines (in addition to 4,475 shared lines). Were those missing beats really a cue to mark time on the stage? ”
I think the important question is: Who’s doing the tallying?
quote: “…but I doubt that Shakespeare’s “autograph” was polished enough in its layout…”
So did Pope. Funny thing about “polishing”:too much, too hard, too often, and you remove the surface, rendering the treasured item simply old and worthless.
It seems clear that you only accept the status quo interpretations of what Shakespeare IS. And they’ve seriously confused the issue over centuries of literal literary interpretation–changing rules he never observed , because they didn’t exist! –to the point where the sterility of the Shakespeare they offer to us, with layer upon layer of “corrections”, disallows further understanding because, in addition, they employ the wrong vehicle in attempts to communicate it.
quote: “The kids tend to read “Romeo and Juliet at age 14, “Julius Caesar” at age 15, and “Macbeth” (or sometimes “Hamlet” or “Othello”) at age 17. If they read a comedy at all, it tends to be “Midsummer Night’s Dream” or “The Merchant of Venice.” Filling three spots would cause little disruption and might even spring open the curriculum a bit to allow a wider experience.”
Let’s see…three spots…remove Shakespeare from all three….disruption–little…carry the one…
A “WIDER” experience? Are you suggesting they don’t get into Shakespeare at all? If so, how does one involved in “translating” an author summarily dismiss him from an entire curriculum? That certainly wouldn’t happen in the situation of a true “translation”–otherwise, why translate the author’s work?
Come to think of it…where does that leave your ‘translations’? Or…?…yes, where does that leave them?
quote: “We include him because he is our greatest artist and of historical importance to understanding the development of the literature that preceded and followed him.”
We “Include” Him –I take it the inclusion might simply be based upon the fact that he’s already famous– and so therefore he must be included–the “greatest artist” thing probably deserves the quotes I just gave it. Is That ALL We do? And is that the only reason for his “inclusion”–so that we might understand Other literature and its historical development? –Who is “we”?
quote: “Shakespeare missing from live theater would leave a gap to wide to even imagine. He is still the most performed dramatist, even in places that never hear him in English.(That’s right. It’s not his particular brand of English that accounts for his popularity–”
One hand (supposedly) giveth; the other (definitely) taketh away. Dismiss him from the curriculum–no problem; how do you suppose that might affect the theatre?
Of course he had a plan. One which, with experience and confirmation, he got better and better at formulating and executing. The denial of his ability to “autograph”, in addition to the list of some of the statements that offer “logical” reasons for his supplantation, does no more to convince me that the idea deserves dismissal any more than it would convince John Barton, or Sir Peter Hall, or Ronald Watkins, or Granville-Barker, or Ian Mckellen, or Judy Dench, or Ian Holm, or…the list is too long– those who have had decades of unquestionably successful first hand experience teaching, directing, and/or employing first hand, ON A STAGE, OUT LOUD, some of their techniques fully based upon the very ideas of Flatter’s (and many like ideas of others) which you dismiss as merely “interesting”. I don’t suppose they got into the Shakespeare thing cuz it wuz to hard and boreing. But in fact, many of them did think so–like I once did–until they took the time to look more closely. It wasn’t a copy of “Sparks Notes” or “Shakespeare for Dummies”or (a big competitor in your line, I’d suppose) “Shakespeare Made Easy” that guided me in that direction.
I realize that the directness of some of what I’ve written might strike one as abrupt; maybe somewhat discourteous. But as I tell my students, a thought is a thing–it lives not in the brain but in the belly–until you open your mouth and say it Out Loud,its importance can be easily dismissed–leading to a very serious case of Heart–Burn.
As a favorite teacher/author of mine says…”We speak ourselves into consciousness.” And I am conscious that Shakespeare’s importance transcends the page. His thoughts are things, his philosophy touches branches of the discipline that weren’t even defined at the time; he expresses emotion in his own “peculiar” way, and inextricably connected to that emotional expressiveness, is a command of his words–HIS WORDS–an incredibly enlightening, freeing, and empowering experience. The ability lies at the very root of an ability to express oneself. And if there’s one thing we need lessons in today, it’s in how to communicate–how to say it Out Loud.
It’s not easy–it takes a little work. But if you can do his stuff, you can do any thing remotely related. My students–they run the gamut, grade school to professional– whatever age or rank, they tell me it’s worth it. I have a tendency to believe them as opposed to someone with an axe to grind.
“Words, words, words.” -Hamlet (–one of those “troublesome,’ incomplete’ ” lines) As you can see, I’ve been listening–to all of your words–just like I listen to all of Shakespeare’s words. You would take away not only his ‘troublesome’ words,– you would take away all of them.
My question stands unanswered.
Kent Richmond Feb 24, 2009
Goodness. Whoever said that Shakespeare was bad at verse? Give me a name so that I can straighten this person out.
Roberisco Mar 17, 2009
Is the service good?
Terry Aug 19, 2010
This is not a comment on the effect of Shakespeare’s absence from the literary arena, but a tiny point which I would like to query – The sentences following are in question:
‘Who would we be reading/acting/studying?’ and ‘Who would
students be complaining about studying instead?’
I had learnt that the interrogative pronoun in each of these cases would be ‘Whom’ – rephrasing the sentences would read:
‘We would be reading/acting/studying WHOM’(as objective case
of ‘Who’- object of the participles reading/acting/studying’.
The same would apply to the second sentence, where the rephrasing would be
‘Students would be complaining about WHOM’- the objective case of ‘who’ after the preposition ‘about’.
I am not sure if I have learnt the correct grammar – perhaps there is a new convention – I would very much like to know, so that I can teach the rules to my pupils.
Naomi Finkelstein Jan 14, 2012
This is one awesome article post.Really looking forward to read more. Cool.