Shakespeare?

[Clinton Huxley]

I remember very nearly getting into a fight whilst watcing Othello at the Royal Exchange.

[Elessarina]

Did you see Henry V at the Exchange, Clinton?

Incidentally, I am going to see Jude Law's Hamlet in July

[Pappa]

Shakespeare is full of bawdy jokes and ridiculous caricatures and is meant to be entertainment.

I was very fortunate in having an English teacher who managed to make a class of 31 teenage boys understand that. With a little bit of help interpreting some things, we all realised how funny and base Shakespeare plays are.

[Clinton Huxley]

Did you see Henry V at the Exchange, Clinton?

Incidentally, I am going to see Jude Law's Hamlet in July

Can't remember if I saw Henry V there or at the Lowry. It was probably about 5 years ago. I saw Christopher Eccleston play Hamlet in Leeds.

[Xamonas Chegwé]

Shakespeare's Sonnets

Italian Sonnets

A sonnet is a poem with 14 lines, usually in iambic pentameter. (See HERE for a description of IP.)

The form began in Italy in the 13th century. The most famous composer of sonnets at this time was the poet Petrarch, who composed sonnets with the following rhyme scheme ABBA/ABBA/CDE/CDE - ie. the first, fourth fifth and eighth lines rhymed with each other, as did the second, third, sixth and seventh, etc.

eg.

I wish I was a happy buzzing bee
With wings that beat as fast as e'er they might,
To carry me while e'er the summer's light
Should shed it's glow upon each flower and tree,
That I might each one's hidden nectar see
And prise it forth for mine own hive's delight
To store 'gainst winter's chill as is the right
Of all industrious creatures such as we.
But should the scent of our most hard-won honey
Rouse the hungry bear to seek its source,
Though he may think himself the forest's king,
We tiny ones would pay no ransom money,
Nor yield to his display of brutish force,
But rather guard our prize with dying sting!

This poem (which I knocked off just now ) also illustrates another feature of the Petrarchan sonnet, the concept of the turn (Italian volta.) This is a change in tone of the poem that occurs between the first 8 lines and the last 6. In this example, the mood shifts between a bucolic collecting of honey to a battle to protect it from rampaging bears. Often, early Italian sonnets took the form of a 'call and response', with the first 8 lines asking a question which was then answered in the last 6, or alternately, the first section setting a problem which was solved in the second. The vast majority of Italian sonnets were written as love poems, often to an unnamed woman.

As with everything Italian during the 16th century, the sonnet was adopted as the height of poetic form by English society (we were a little late in reaching the renaissance over here!) Initially, English poets merely translated Italian sonnets, maintaining the rhyme scheme and turn of the Petrarchan form. However, later poets adopted an uniquely English form of sonnet which was eventually named after its most famous exponent:

The Shakespearean Sonnet.

The English, or Shakespearean sonnet differs both in its rhyme structure, the placing of its turn and its themes.

While many variations exist, almost all of Shakespeare's sonnets follow an ABAB/CDCD/EFEF/GG rhyme scheme. One reason for this is to avoid the constraints placed upon the poet by the increased difficulty of finding rhymes in the English language. In Italian, almost every word ends in a vowel, so it is a relatively simple matter to find a rhyme to any word. In English, the necessity of finding 4 rhyming words for both the 'A' and the 'B' of a Petrarchan sonnet, restricts the composer to words with fairly common endings (hence my use of bee/tree/see/we and might/light/delight/right above.) The Shakespearean form requires only words that have a single rhyming partner, allowing far greater freedom of expression in our awkward language.

The other main structural difference is the turn in English sonnets. Instead of coming between lines 8 and 9 as in the Italian form, Shakespeare tended to use the closing couplet as a summing up of the entire poem, or as a sudden change of direction. I will use one of Shakespeare's own sonnets as an example. Notice the rhyme scheme and see how the last two lines completely change the direction of the poem - 12 lines describe the way in which we all grow old over time but then, in the last two lines, he turns this on its head and uses them to hope that the words that he has written in praise of the subject's beauty shall outlive them both.

LX

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith, being crowned,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight
And Time that gave, doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of natures truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow;
And yet, to times, in hope, my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

This brings us to the third, and perhaps the most important difference in Shakespeare's body of sonnets - the subject matter. Where the Italian sonnets and those English attempts that preceded him were almost always straightforward love poems, WS wrote on many subjects, often, as in the example above, utilising the praise of the poem's subject in order to explore loftier concepts.

The Mystery of the Sonnets

There are many mysteries surrounding Shakespeare's sonnets. They were a relatively private part of his writings, with all 154 known sonnets only published as a collection relatively late in his life, in 1609. The dedication of this edition contains a mysterious reference to a Mr W.H., described as "the only begetter of these sonnets" but despite numerous theories down the years, the identity of this inspirational gentleman has never been established. Nor is it known whether the poems were printed from an official source donated by the author, or from some copy obtained from a third party.

Like many sonnets of the time and before, most of Shakespeare's were written as if to a single recipient. However, whereas the norm would have been for the poet to write his poems to the praise of a woman, the majority of WS's were clearly written to a young man, the elusive 'fair youth'. Whether this chap was the Mr W.H. of the dedication or not is unknown. There are numerous proposed identities for this youth but none that is anywhere near universally accepted. This series of poems has also fueled much speculation as to Billy S's sexuality.

Later on in the sonnets, there is an abrupt change and the poems become far more overtly sexual in nature and are written to the praise of a 'dark lady'. Again, nobody knows who this woman was either - although theories are as thick as ever - all that is actually known is that she was his mistress and perhaps also that of the fair youth.

The sonnets are divided into three groups:

The first 17 are written to a young man, possibly the same youth as the next group, although the tone is very different, urging him to marry and have children that he may pass his beauty down to future generations.

Nos. 18 to 126 are written to the fair youth mentioned above, expressing the poet's love for him. While this would seem overtly homosexual by today's standards, the actual nature of these poems, whether the love that is spoken of is platonic or more sexual in nature, is by no means clear. One theory is that the poems are actually being written from the POV of a woman (a not uncommon devise in poetry, dating back at least as far as ancient Greece.)

The famous first poem of this series, and indeed others, are ambiguous as to the gender of its recipient.

XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

Also, note that once again WS uses the last couplet to insist that his words will be an eternal reminder of the youth's beauty - a common theme. This poem would work equally well for either gender but there can be no doubt about the sex two poems later!

XX

A woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion:
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created;
Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she prick'd thee out for women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.

127 to 152 are the 'dark lady' sonnets. There is no doubting the overtly sexual nature of these poems. The woman is described as dark-skinned, her hair black, her eyes dark. Whether she was actually black, or merely mediterranean in complexion is unknown.

CXLI

In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who, in despite of view, is pleased to dote.
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted;
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone:
But my five wits nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unswayed the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart's slave and vassal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain.

There is also a reference to Shakespeare's jealousy of a perceived affair between her and the fair youth, although he confesses in the poem that he is unsure if this is actual or in his head.

CXLIV

Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.
To win me soon to hell, my female evil,
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
And whether that my angel be turned fiend,
Suspect I may, yet not directly tell;
But being both from me, both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell:
Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.



Like all poetry (and especially poetry written in archaic language) Shakespeare's sonnets do not give up their secrets lightly. Many are ambiguous and impenetrable in nature, others superficially simple but with hidden meanings lurking in the rhymes. All require multiple readings in order to gain any understanding. A recommendation which I found stood me in good stead when first tackling the sonnets seriously about a year ago, was to read a single sonnet each day, returning to it several times during the day and reading it 2 or 3 times through on each visit. Once one gets used to the style, it becomes easier (honest!) to extract the gist of a sonnet relatively quickly (as indeed it does with the plays.)

[Vikki]

Don't mind the old Bard.

Favourite character would be Falstaff; laugh-out-loud stuff right there from One-Henry-Four! His gross exaggeration of what went on in the highway robbery in scene IV is so fun to read.

But favourite play would be King Lear, Old Willie's portrayal of madness and family conflicts have yet to be bettered in literature. Plus the whole "no, you unnatural hags/ I will have such revenges on you both/That all the world shall-- I will do such things--/What they are, I know not, but they shall be/The terrors of the earth! You think I'll weep,/ No, I'll not weep, I have full cause of weeping,/But this heart shall break into a hundred thousand flaws/Or ere I'll weep. O Fool, I shall go mad!" ... I LOVE SO MUCH.

Hamlet is alright, also.

[Red Katie]

KING LEAR

And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never!
Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.
Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,
Look there, look there!

Dies

EDGAR

He faints! My lord, my lord!

KENT

Break, heart; I prithee, break!


Amazing. Death was even then trite. It had been done every possible way, but Shakespeare made it new.

I can't believe that William Shakespeare of Stratford on Avon wrote the works of Shakespeare. I hold with Oxford.

It's true that the structure of his plays can be shaky, but his command of the language was second to none. I've read an awful lot of poetry in this world, and I say Shakespeare is still the greatest.

[ebeth]

I agree with whoever-it-was (too lazy to go back and look) that anyone who has issues comprehending shakespeare should go see a play. It was meant to be performed. And if you think it's boring, play Find-The-Obscenity. (I've been lucky enough to have teachers who would not only admit that it exists in there, but who often pointed it out before even I could think of it (which is quite a feat)).

If there's anyone here from the columbus area (i don't think there was, but you never know), they do free shakespeare shows at schiller park in german village. this year is The Tempest and As You Like It. Good stuff

by the way, has anyone seen the reduced Shakespeare? I forget what it's called exactly. It's hilarious though.

PS fav plays - Macbeth, Much Ado About Nothing, Twelfth Night, Lear, Hamlet. I think Romeo and Juliet is good, but overrated.

[Feck]

This looks like fun!

[Thinking Aloud]

And here comes Macbeth Soliloquy

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.
Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.

(Act V, Scene V)

Right at the end of High School our English teacher gave us all copies of this passage as mementos ... and perhaps as food for thought for the future. I've always treasured it.

[owtth]

Right at the end of High School our English teacher gave us all copies of this passage as mementos ... and perhaps as food for thought for the future. I've always treasured it.

At the end of high school the only thing I recall getting from my teachers was a look of relief

[Pappa]

Right at the end of High School our English teacher gave us all copies of this passage as mementos ... and perhaps as food for thought for the future. I've always treasured it.

At the end of high school the only thing I recall getting from my teachers was a look of relief

[Horwood Beer-Master]