This page deals with my thoughts on several Shakespeare plays, mainly, the ones I have read and like. Some have summaries, which I try to make as brief as possible. On this page, you will find:
This is one of the very best Shakespeare plays to start out with, due to its rollicking comedy, believable characters, exquisite poetry, and very real sensuality. I owe my love of the Bard to having started out with this play.
Is there anyone in the known universe who doesn't know the plot of this play? Boy meets girl (from enemy clan), boy marries girl, boy kills girl's cousin after cousin kills boy's best friend, boy is banished, girl feigns death to escape arranged bigamous marriage, boy thinks girl is really dead and kills self, girl revives and kills self, families end feud.
Actually, it's been argued that up until Mercutio's death, this play actually has more in common with the comedies than the tragedies. Its merry joking, romantic plot, and poetry seem to belong more to the genre of Midsummer Night's Dream than to lofty tragedies like Hamlet and King Lear. That's why the tragic ending of this seems like such a shock. Somehow, with Hamlet, you sense from the beginning there can't be a happy ending. With this…there's always the hope.
It's funny that we never do learn just what the feud's all about or how it got started. It's just something that started so long ago that nobody can remember what its significance is. What a pity it is that no one until Romeo and Juliet ever stopped to think how ridiculous it was. I feel so very sorry for both fathers at the end, especially Lord Montague, whose wife has died of grief as well. They could have laid down the swords that the older generation has put into their hands, but they never stopped to consider that they might have. They put those swords into the hands of the younger generation, as is shown in Tybalt's character. And because of this process, they stand alone at the end, stripped of their most precious possessions…their only children.
The role of fate in the play has always been thought to be great. Just look at all the references to fate in the text: "star-crossed lovers", which has become a byword, "some consequence, yet hanging in the stars", "O, I am fortune's fool!" Yet I don't really think that fate has as much a hand in all this as human choice. Certainly, fate's fickle finger does have a place in this play…witness the miscarrying of the Friar's letter. However, much of his could have been averted, if, as I have said, the perpetrators of the feud had made the choice not to carry it on.
This also leads to the question some people have asked about whether Romeo is a real tragic hero, since, they claim, he doesn’t have a real tragic flaw. I think he does…his impetuosity. The impulsiveness of youth versus the slowness and calm of age is a strong theme here. But even in the headily romantic balcony scene, Juliet, bless her, shows sensibility and practicality, wanting to make sure Romeo truly loves her before agreeing to marry him, taking care of the arrangement of their marriage. Romeo tends to barge into things more…as he does with the duel. Though it can be understood that he's enraged over Mercutio's death, he could have thought to himself…"Wait a minute…I'm about to kill my wife's cousin. Let's just calm down and report Tybalt to the Prince…he'll get the justice he deserves." But no, he just has to go charging after Tybalt, and only after he has committed the murder that dooms him does he realize what he's done. In my mind, Romeo isn't so much "fortune's fool" as someone damned by his own impetuosity.
Again, youth vs. age is a strong theme in the play. The tradition, for a long while, was to have much older actors play the lovers. But could an older, wiser Romeo have fallen in love so quickly, or barged into the duel so forcefully and unthinkingly? That's what makes such film versions as George Cukor's, with Leslie (Ashley Wilkes) Howard and Norma Shearer (both near or into their forties) seem ridiculous. The extreme youth of the lovers is vital to the play. That's why Zeffirelli's 1968 version, which cast teenagers, was such a success. Not only did it bring out this important theme, it also made the teenagers in the audience think, "Wait a minute…these people are just like us!"
"Just like us…"; that is an important concept in considering these characters. Once we know how to spot it, we believe in every word these lovers say. Romeo is a credible headstrong, moody teenager, one minute mooning over an unattainable crush and acting affectedly melancholy, the next, in love with someone new. How many teenage boys today are just like that?
Juliet, too, is a believable character. She's one of my favorite Shakespeare heroines, because of her resourcefulness, her brains and her practicality. I love the scene just after Romeo's departure, where she fools her mother by playing with words, saying one thing when she means another. "Indeed I never shall be satisfied with Romeo till I behold him...dead...is my poor heart so for a kinsman vexed." Read one way, she wants to see Romeo dead because of her grief for her cousin. Read another, the way she really means it, she won't be satisfied till she sees Romeo again, and her poor heart is "dead" with yearning for a "kinsman"--not a cousin, but a husband. She fools her mother completely, without once telling a falsehood. She also, as I have said, displays common sense and practicality in planning the arrangements for the marriage and advising Romeo not to be too rash, and great courage as she seeks her own solution to the problem of the arranged marriage with Paris. It's a pity that such a woman was trapped in a society that valued women only for ornamental and breeding purposes. (That's why Juliet is considered marriageable at fourteen--in Elizabethan and Renaissance times, a girl was considered a "woman" as soon as she was old enough to bear children, that is, when she got her first period. Strange, isn't it, that a girl went from child to woman nearly instantaneously, with no maturing period in between.)
Sexuality, too, plays a strong role in this play--a wake-up call to those who think Shakespeare's plays are stuffy and staid. Both young lovers have a healthy and believable sexuality. Even in the romantic balcony scene, Romeo betrays thoughts of gettin' jiggy with Julie. His next-to-last couplet is: "Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!" Juliet, too, is eager to (ahem) spend her first night of marriage with her new husband. She is eager for the night to come, being "possessed", but "not yet enjoyed". She's all for losing her virginity now that she's a married lady and it's respectable for her to do so. The young lovers' attitude toward sex is probably the healthiest in the play. The older generation (as personified by the Capulets) seems to look at it only in terms of breeding, not of love or intimacy. The Nurse(terrific character) has a healthier outlook, but she seems too much to the other extreme...too coarse, too earthy. It always seems to be on her mind...her very first line is a reference to the fact that she lost her virginity at twelve. She goes on, during her first scene, to describe how she and her late husband shared a bawdy joke at toddler Juliet's expense, and ends it with "Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days," looking at marriage only in terms of its physical side. Mercutio's jokes, too, are spiced with bawdy puns, the least subtle of which is "the bawdy hand of the dial is upon the prick of noon." It's surprising that the Nurse should be offended by Mercutio's teasing, since the two of them are cut from the same cloth. (There's a wonderful moment in the Zeffirelli film where the Nurse starts to laugh at one of Mercutio's dirty jokes before remembering she's supposed to be offended.) The young lovers, by contrast to all this, are neither dry nor earthy, but merge the spiritual with the physical. Juliet's line "When he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars" may be a reference to the Elizabethan term "to die", which meant to experience orgasm. The physical pleasure of sex is merged with a spiritual image of a constellation in the stars.
A few nit-picks: we see much of the Capulet home life and Juliet's interaction with her parents. Isn't it funny how we never really see any of the Montagues' home life? Also...we never see any scenes of Juliet and Tybalt interacting. We sort of have to take it on faith and through her grief at his death that they're close. A director can remedy this, maybe showing him greeting her affectionately at the ball, tugging her hair playfully as he did when they were kids.
Another, more serious flaw: I've already said that Juliet's strong-willed and intelligent. Why, then, when her parents threaten to disown her for refusing to marry Paris, doesn't she say, "All right then...disown me!" and then run off to join Romeo. Or, for that matter, why she didn't just run off with Romeo to Mantua in the first place. But then, this was a time when revenge murders were rampant. She could have feared that if she did run away and her marriage to Romeo was thus revealed, her family would have Romeo hunted down and killed. Maybe her, too, for betraying the family honor.
This is another great play to start out with. It may look convoluted, but it really isn't so bad once you get the hang of it. In fact, in many ways, it's a companion piece to Romeo & Juliet. It has the idea of lovers defying parents who would try to stop their love, and complications that fall in their way. Only this time, the complications are not just fate or their own flaws, but a band of meddling fairies. Like all the Shakespeare comedies, it gently mocks the travails and high-flown passions of the young lovers while celebrating them as well. (The original myth of Pyramus and Thisbe was a prototype for Romeo and Juliet; the butchering of the myth by the players who perform this grand display of ACTING!!! poke fun at the idea of sorely beset lovers.)
In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, this play was performed as a sort of pretty, airy trifle, with the fairies resembling something like Disney's Tinkerbell. Nothing against Disney or Tink (definitely not) but that wasn't what the English, Irish and Scottish people of Shakespeare's day thought of when they thought of fairies. The fairies of those days were powerful, sometimes vengeful beings, who could bring good luck to families when placated, but, when angered, could blight crops and livestock and bring terrible misfortune. Puck is sometimes referred to as a far more malevolent figure than the mischief-maker of this play. (The pictures I have seen of the upcoming film version of MND show Stanley Tucci's Puck as a Pan-like, devilish-looking figure, with goat's horns.)
This must have given a slight air of danger to those who first watched this play. Surely, there are dark elements here, with references to wicked creatures of the forest, and threats of violence between the two men. However, some modern productions swing the pendulum rather far the other way, playing up the darker elements till we nearly forget it's a comedy. I think an ideal production of this would fall somewhere in between, not letting us forget the darker elements, but still making us laugh, and producing an element of magic and wonder.
Magic and wonder are two underlying elements of this play. The lines between dream and reality are blurred, and some of the dream spills over into the reality by the end. It even plays a part in the extremely funny tragedy of Pyramus and Thisbe, as the actors work to create the illusions of the stage. The best productions of the play show the humor in the rude mechanicals' production, but don't have them playing it like boffo comedians, as in the black-and-white Max Reinhart movie with Jimmy Cagney as Bottom. Instead, they should play it earnestly, as though they really and truly think that they're performing a masterpiece. This makes it touching as well as funny, and the on-stage audience--the three couples--should be touched as well as amused. Incompetent or not, they are trying to provide illusion and wonder. What this play, I believe, is trying to say is that we need magic and wonder in our lives--we need dreams. Whether it be the dreams of romantic love or the dreams provided by the illusions of the stage, they enrich our lives and give us a little something to take with us back to reality. This is touched upon in Puck's final "If we shadows" speech: we are to think of this play as a dream. Which, indeed, it was...the dream of one William Shakespeare. And from this dream, we take back new perceptions to the world of reality, just as the four lovers went into the forest and came out of it with new ways of seeing and loving. It doesn't matter that Demetrius is still "enchanted" when he marries Helena...the dream is the reality.
This is also an idea touched upon in many productions by the fact that the roles of Theseus and Hippolyta are often played by the actors who play Oberon and Titania. This suggests that beneath this staid and prosaic couple, there exists the possibility of untamedness, of wonder, of passion. It gives a bit more meaning to the scene right before the play at the end, where Theseus is willing to accept the existence of "strange and wonderful" things. The royal pair have also taken a little bit with them from the world of dreams and illusion.
Furthermore, this is also touched upon in the relationship between Theseus and Hippolyta. Dr. Louis Martin, my undergrad English professor, theorizes that the relationship in the beginning is a little strained...after all, Theseus did carry her off against her will, and expects to marry her. While he speaks of how slowly the four days till their wedding will go, she speaks of how quickly it will go. This hints that she's really not as eager as he, and his harsh edict against the lovers doesn't help much. Yet, by the end, she's referring to him as "my Theseus". Dr. Martin's theory is that Theseus reversed his edict and allowed Lysander to marry Hermia in an attempt to win Hippolyta's love by showing that he could value the feelings of others. The magic has touched them as well, the need for the dream, and it will make their life together all the better.
This is another rollicking comedy, but due to one element, also somewhat controversial. It need not be, and that I'll explain in a moment. The plot has to do with the daughters of the wealthy Baptista Minola of Padua, Italy. His youngest, Bianca, seemingly sweet and virtuous, has many suitors, but young Lucentio is the only one she really loves. However, according to tradition, the elder daughter must marry first. This is difficult at best, since Katharine, the elder daughter, is known as a "shrew". Indeed, she is inordinately bad-tempered. Petruchio, a young man from out of town, is attracted by the prospect of a rich dowry and agrees to marry Kate. Their battling, with words (and more, as Kate slaps him) is hilarious. I suspect this is when Petruchio begins to fall for her, admiring the wit of someone who can hold her own in a battle of words. After their marriage, he "tames" her, killing her with kindness; he does not let her eat because he feigns a rage about the quality of the food, he does not let her sleep through feigning rage about the quality of the bed, and so on. Some have seen this as cruel; I see it as him trying to show Kate how difficult she herself is to live with, with her constant rages. I never saw him as trying to subdue her mind or her spirit, merely her bad temper. From what I can see of Petruchio's character, he'd be bored stiff with an obedient little milksop...but would you wish a bad-tempered spouse on your worst enemy?
However, Kate begins to gain the upper hand. When he tells her that an old man is actually a young maiden, she makes a great show of obedience, greeting the "maiden" with a lavishly embroidered speech, seeming to delight in her own inventiveness. I can see her smirking at Petruchio during this, and him smiling back, captivated by her wit and ingenuity. Although he was attracted at first by her fortune, he has grown to love her as a person.
This leads into the controversial part: at Bianca and Lucentio's wedding (also attended by Hortensio, one of Bianca's former suitors, and his new wife, an attractive widow) Petruchio, denying that Kate is still a shrew, agrees to a bet between the three husbands as to which has the most obedient wife. Lucentio is so sure he'll win, since Bianca has given this show of being the modest and virtuous maiden. They each send for their wives, but neither Bianca nor the widow appears when called for...only Kate, making a big show of being obedient! She drags in the other two, and delivers a controversial speech on how wives should always be obedient to their lords and masters. Now, the question is...is this play irredeemably sexist?
Some could argue that Shakespeare wrote for a time when women were considered second-class. However, just look at Shakespeare's other heroines...Juliet and Desdemona, for example, flouted convention to follow their hearts. And in practically all the comedies, the women spend the play a step ahead of their male admirers. I simply cannot believe that the Shakespeare who created these characters meant to demean women in this play.
I cannot stress this point too strongly: I don't think Kate's submission speech is meant to be taken at face value. Only a scene before, we saw her and Petruchio interacting with mutual respect and love. It would be incongruous for him to switch to whip-cracking now. I think she does this on purpose out of love for him, showing him she can put on this face in order for him to save face in public, and perhaps knowingly winning his bet for him.
There is another reason: Petruchio is showing his love for her by giving her the chance she's always dreamed of...the chance to show up Little Miss Perfect in front of Daddy. It's not hard to imagine why Kate's so bad tempered...Bianca is, as Kate so bitterly states, Baptista's favorite. All her life, she's watched Bianca grab all Papa's love and attention by putting on this sweet and pliable act...and Kate has to know that it's all an act and that Bianca's really a manipulative little wench. This drives her into unhappiness and bitterness, taking out her frustrations on all and sundry. When living with Petruchio, she grows to understand how difficult a bad-tempered and critical person is to live with, and so begins to change. In the scene where she greets Vincentio as a "young virgin", she shows that she can keep wit and intelligence while not being bad-tempered. And during the final speech, I can readily imagine the relish she takes in chiding Bianca for her stubbornness and shrewishness, knowing what Kate's had to put up with all her life. Petruchio has given her the chance to do this out of love, and she is doing this to help him keep the public image of one who "tamed a shrew".
Here's how I would stage this if I were a director. Kate slips back on stage, unseen by anyone but Petruchio, in time to hear her father call her a shrew. Petruchio, meeting her eyes, says "I say she is not," earning a grateful smile. Then, as the bet is placed, their eyes meet again, and Kate smiles and nods, still unseen by anyone but Petruchio, and slips back off. He patiently waits as the other two wives refuse their summons, and breaks into a huge smile as Kate appears, exaggeratedly sweet and obedient. Her speech should be delivered the same way, in a theatrically sweet and modest manner. Bianca has fooled everyone for years by putting on the submissive act, and now Kate is doing the exact same thing. The speech is punctuated by knowing, amused glances between the two. (I can see Petruchio nearly losing it when she says how meek and mild she is. I can also see the look on poor Lucentio's face as Bianca lights into him for making the bet, now revealed as the real "shrew".) In public, Kate will put on the meek act. But in private, her marriage to Petruchio will be one of mutual respect and equal say.
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