Archive for the 'Shout Out' Category

Blog Log

Tuesday, May 3rd, 2011

Last week, I participated in a blogging project sponsored by the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust, who encouraged bloggers to post about the influence Shakespeare has had on our lives. They’ve linked up all of our contributions on one page, and it’s worth checking out. Whether you’re a fan of Shakespeare or not, it’s exciting to read people who are passionate about something writing about how they became passionate about it.

Also, be sure to check out this fantastic song parody from Bardfilm. I missed it among all the birthday excitement, but found again via a nod from the Shakespeare Geek.

In post-birthday blogging news, I’ve been asked to write a monthly post on using data for school improvement for both the company I work for and our partner organization. If you want to get a glimpse into what I actually do for a living – anagramming passages from Shakespeare doesn’t pay what it should – check out my first installment here or here.

Monkey Business

Monday, January 31st, 2011

Via the Shakespeare Geek, we learn of a website called Shakespearean Monkey, written by a middle school-aged kid:

Monkeys are smart. Though they haven’t created cars or trains or weapon, they are educated through simplicity. They flourish on what they have, and if something doesn’t work, they don’t give up, but they evolve to overcome it. Like monkeys, Shakespeare had no thesaurus, no dictionary, no laptop and no editor. But when he came to a spot where he was at loss for words, he made up his own words. Through practice, perseverance and certainly trial and error, he created works that will last forever.

I am a 13 year old kid who is trying to read and attend live performances of all 37 Shakespeare plays (plus three possible collaborations) in 2 years. This is a record of my experiences.

One could be forgiven for doubting the veracity of the “13 year old kid” claim, given the fact that the author seems to have an advanced level of writing ability, detailed knowledge of Shakespeare, sophisticated understanding of live theatre, and the wherewithal to attend top-quality theatrical productions in a variety of far-flung cities. But the Shakespeare Teacher has never been one to question authorship, and isn’t about to start now.

Seriously, though, wow. What ever this kid has, I wish I could bottle it. That being impossible, I am left to join Duane in offering this young man or woman a welcome to our online community. The Shakespeare Teacher is now your student.

A Measured Response

Sunday, January 30th, 2011

Over at Shakespeare in a Year, Ashley is making remarkable progress on her goal to work her way through the Complete Works of Shakespeare in just twelve months, and to blog about it. She recently re-read Measure for Measure, and had some harsh words for it, concluding that it “doesn’t work” and that maybe Shakespeare knew it. But this is one of my favorite plays. It works for me!

We can certainly disagree with each other, but I notice that she lists some questions about Measure for Measure that she says do not have even one reasonable answer:

Why does the duke temporarily abdicate? Why does he leave Angelo in charge, rather than the obviously more qualified Escalus? Why does he disguise himself as a friar? Why does he tell Claudio that he must die, when he knows perfectly well that he can fix the problem? Why is Angelo so suddenly and swiftly tempted by Isabella? Why is Isabella so violently angry when Claudio begs her to accept Angelo’s deal? Why is Barnardine able to simply refuse his own execution? Why does the virtuous Isabella consent to a bed trick that creates the same scenario for which her brother is imprisoned? Why does the duke tell her that Claudio is dead, why does he force Isabella to beg for Angelo’s life, and why on earth does the duke propose to Isabella?

And, perhaps most intriguing, does Isabella accept the duke’s proposal?

In my reading of the play, these questions do have answers, and it is my pleasure to share them with you. You may not like the answers, and that can be a discussion of its own, but I will provide textual evidence where it can illuminate. Please do not view this as an attack on her piece, though, and my goal is not to change anyone’s mind. I only offer another perspective to the conversation.

Why does the duke temporarily abdicate?

Duke: ’Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them
For what I bid them do: for we bid this be done,
When evil deeds have their permissive pass
And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my father,
I have on Angelo impos’d the office,
Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home,
And yet my nature never in the sight
To do it slander.

He’s not really abdicating. He’s just taking a trip and leaving Angelo in charge. His reason is because the laws have gone unenforced too long, and he feels that he no longer has the moral authority to enforce them, having been slack in his duties for so long. By leaving a deputy in charge, it will make the sudden changes in law enforcement seem less arbitrary and unjust.

Why does he leave Angelo in charge, rather than the obviously more qualified Escalus?

Duke: Lord Angelo is precise;
Stands at a guard with envy; scarce confesses
That his blood flows, or that his appetite
Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see,
If power change purpose, what our seemers be.

He knows that Angelo has the austerity to get the job done. But if you look at the last line quoted, he seems to at least be open to the idea that power may corrupt Angelo.

Why does he disguise himself as a friar?

Duke: And to behold his sway,
I will, as ’twere a brother of your order,
Visit both prince and people:

He wants to keep an eye on his experiment.

Why does he tell Claudio that he must die, when he knows perfectly well that he can fix the problem?

Duke: Be absolute for death; either death or life
Shall thereby be the sweeter.

At this point, he doesn’t have all of the information he needs and he’s not sure what he’s going to do. Claudio is already condemned to death (and for something he actually did), so there’s no sense in raising his hopes for nothing.

Why is Angelo so suddenly and swiftly tempted by Isabella?

Angelo: What! do I love her,
That I desire to hear her speak again,
And feast upon her eyes? What is’t I dream on?
O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint,
With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous
Is that temptation that doth goad us on
To sin in loving virtue: never could the strumpet,
With all her double vigour, art and nature,
Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite. Ever till now,
When men were fond, I smil’d and wonder’d how.

He is attracted to her virtue, but he is inexperienced with women and doesn’t know how to handle these emotions. In fact, he grows to hate himself for them, and deliberately casts himself as a villain because he sees himself that way. When he is eventually caught, his death sentence seems like a relief.

Why is Isabella so violently angry when Claudio begs her to accept Angelo’s deal?

Isabella: O you beast!
O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!
Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
Is’t not a kind of incest, to take life
From thine own sister’s shame? What should I think?

She is very religious, and sees death as preferable to dishonor. Her brother, she feels, should be more concerned with protecting her honor than with saving his own life. That he allowed himself to feel otherwise shames their family before God.

Why is Barnardine able to simply refuse his own execution?

Duke: We have strict statutes and most biting laws,—
The needful bits and curbs to headstrong steeds,—
Which for this fourteen years we have let sleep;
Even like an o’ergrown lion in a cave,
That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers,
Having bound up the threat’ning twigs of birch,
Only to stick it in their children’s sight
For terror, not to use, in time the rod
Becomes more mock’d than fear’d; so our decrees,
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead,
And liberty plucks justice by the nose;
The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart
Goes all decorum.

This is a comic scene, but it underlies a point made earlier in the play (quoted above). The law in Vienna has become a joke, and if Barnardine wants to refuse his own execution, nobody really knows what to do about it.

Why does the virtuous Isabella consent to a bed trick that creates the same scenario for which her brother is imprisoned?

Duke: Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all.
He is your husband on a pre-contract:
To bring you thus together, ’tis no sin,
Sith that the justice of your title to him
Doth flourish the deceit.

The Duke explains to Isabella (as he later describes to Mariana here) that Angelo and Mariana have been contracted to each other, and therefore, their union will only consummate the marriage, which is why Mariana is able to address Angelo as her husband in the last scene of the play. Juliet and Claudio had no such contract, and so it’s fornication. I know it sounds silly, but Shakespeare did make the distinction in the text.

Why does the duke tell her that Claudio is dead, why does he force Isabella to beg for Angelo’s life, and why on earth does the duke propose to Isabella?

Duke: Against all sense you do importune her:
Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact,
Her brother’s ghost his paved bed would break,
And take her hence in horror.

He seems to be testing Isabella. My take is that he wants to know how unwavering is the moral code of this woman who judges other so harshly. When she shows mercy to Angelo, even as she believes he has killed her brother, the Duke learns that she’s the real deal. He proposes on the spot.

And, perhaps most intriguing, does Isabella accept the duke’s proposal?

Duke: Dear Isabel,
I have a motion much imports your good;
Whereto if you’ll a willing ear incline,
What’s mine is yours, and what is yours is mine.

She probably does. It’s somewhat jarring for a modern audience, but hey, he’s the Duke. Why wouldn’t she accept? Being the Duchess of Vienna is so much better than being a nun in a convent, am I right?

Seriously, though, there are a few problems with the play, as I admit here, but not an unusual amount for Shakespeare. I actually like that it’s darker than his other comedies, but remember that it ends on a note of hope.

For more Measure for Measure fun, check out Sharky’s single-sentence scene reactions, or my univocalic plot summary that uses U as the only vowel!

I invite comments and criticism.

60,000

Wednesday, January 19th, 2011

We just reached 60,000 hits. Huzzah!

The 60,000th hit came in from the UK on January 19th, 2011 at 7:42pm. The visitor followed a link from The Bard Blog.

At this point in time, the blog’s Technorati authority is 123, ranking 27,873.

Once again, many thanks to all who have visited, and continue to visit. And with the increased traffic to the site lately, can 70,000 be far behind?

He Bids Us Follow

Tuesday, January 18th, 2011

So I have a Twitter account now. I haven’t really been Tweeting very much, but I could start, like, any minute now.

If you want to follow me, you can find me here.

“Follow me, the wise man said.
But he walked behind.”

Leonard Cohen
“Teachers”

eBook: Hear My Soul Speak

Sunday, October 3rd, 2010

Fellow blogger Duane Morin (aka The Shakespeare Geek) has written a wonderful book called Hear My Soul Speak.

I’m going to tell you about it, but if this is your thing, you should already be reading his blog on a daily basis. If you came to this blog looking for steady news and conversation about Shakespeare, his was really the blog you were looking for. My blog is really more about a weekly riddle and a heap of good intentions. But I digress.

Hear My Soul Speak is a collection of quotes from Shakespeare that anyone can use for weddings. No prior knowledge of Shakespeare is required. Duane helpfully breaks down the quotes into different categories, whether you’re exchanging vows, giving a toast, or even proposing in the first place!

Even if you don’t have a wedding in the near future, it’s a fun book to read to geek out on Shakespeare quotes with Duane. With his trademark infectious enthusiasm, he offers insight on what each quote actually means, and when it is most appropriately used. He also offers suggestions on which quotes not to use, because their original context may not be as romantic as they first appear.

Hear My Soul Speak is available for download for just under eight dollars. It’s definitely worth checking out.

The Shakespeare Teacher received no compensation for writing this review.

The History of Recorded Popular Music

Wednesday, February 17th, 2010

A friend of mine recently launched a new online project, in which he is going to construct a canon of recorded popular music, choosing one song from each of 1200 artists. He has divided these into 65 “albums” categorized chronologically and by genre which he is planning to post at a rate of one per week, with commentary and links to the songs themselves. Check it out:

http://historyofpopmusic.blogspot.com/

And if you don’t like his choices, feel free to challenge him in the comments. But before you do, you should know (if you don’t by now) that he takes his music very seriously.

Question of the Week

Monday, May 4th, 2009

In a recent review of Shakespeare and Modern Culture by Marjorie Garber, the Shakespeare Geek mentions that Garber completely dismisses the idea that The Tempest was Shakespeare’s “farewell” play. I thought I’d take a closer look at her argument, and perhaps offer a different perspective, with the greatest of respect.

She cites the passage that is most commonly used to make the claim:

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

She then goes on to praise the high quality of the speech, before turning to the matter at hand:

But what this passage certainly is not is “Shakespeare’s farewell to the stage.” The imagined social pathos of his departure from London – which would not come for more than a year after The Tempest, and after he had written at least one more play, Henry VIII, or All Is True, and possibly parts of some others – is something some readers and commentators have wanted to elicit from these words, for a variety of reasons. So far from being “Shakespeare’s farewell,” it is not even, in the play, “Prospero’s farewell,” since it takes place in the fourth act of a five act play. (14)

So she uses the same argument as Alan that this wasn’t his last play, plus she adds in that the speech comes in Act 4. The rest of her argument basically boils down to ascribing psychological motivations to those who don’t share her certainty.

I can’t say for certain that this play was his farewell to the theatre, but I’m not convinced by this argument that it wasn’t. First of all, it’s not entirely certain whether Shakespeare did write Henry VIII, or under what circumstances. It may have been a collaboration. So what we actually see following The Tempest may very well be an end to Shakespeare’s solo writing career and the beginning of a year-long period of mentoring John Fletcher who would replace him as playwright for the King’s Men. If so, the Shakespeare who wrote The Tempest would have been pretty well geared up for retirement. The fact that it took him an extra year to leave London is just life happening while you’re busy making other plans. And that brings me to my next point. Even if this wasn’t Shakespeare’s last play, he would have no way of knowing so while writing it.

As for the point that the speech is given in Act 4, I don’t see why it should make a difference. Even if the speech isn’t Prospero’s farewell in the play, Shakespeare might be expressing his own sentiments about leaving the theatre in this speech. But if this is still a problem for you, let’s take a look at a speech from Prospero in the final scene of the play:

I have bedimm’d
The noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds,
And ’twixt the green sea and the azur’d vault
Set roaring war: to the dread-rattling thunder
Have I given fire and rifted Jove’s stout oak
With his own bolt: the strong-bas’d promontory
Have I made shake; and by the spurs pluck’d up
The pine and cedar: graves at my command
Have wak’d their sleepers, op’d, and let them forth
By my so potent art. But this rough magic
I here abjure; and, when I have requir’d
Some heavenly music,—which even now I do,—
To work mine end upon their senses that
This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And, deeper than did ever plummet sound,
I’ll drown my book.

An early quarto continues this speech:

Upon three score and ten I can expect
To end my labors, for I may collect
My years of 401(k) contributions
Through required minimum distributions.

Okay, I made that last part up. And I’m not saying definitively that this play is his farewell to the theatre. I just take exception to Garber saying that it “certainly is not.” That’s always a tough sell when talking about Shakespeare. But I’m interested to hear what you think.

Is The Tempest Shakespeare’s farewell to the theatre?

DeLisa Online

Tuesday, December 2nd, 2008

Regular readers of the blog will be familiar with my friend DeLisa, whether she’s posting a spirited comment, solving the toughest riddles, or even providing material, she’s been an indispensable member of the Shakespeare Teacher community since the very beginning.

But those of us who know her can attest that her contributions here only scratch the surface of what she could be offering to the hungry Internet. We have begged her to start her own blog. Finally, she has answered our wishes.

You can find the wit and wisdom of DeLisa on her new blog, appropriately titled DeLisa Online. Memorize it. Bookmark it. Subscribe to the feed.

It may very well become the second most intriguing blog on the Internet.

Shakespeare Anagram: Richard III

Saturday, November 29th, 2008

From Richard III:

Come; I have heard that fearful commenting
Is leaden servitor to dull delay;
Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary:
Then fiery expedition be my wing,
Jove’s Mercury, and herald for a king!

Shift around the letters, and it becomes:

I entered the legal raffle contest by adding a nerdy note to Duane’s savvy blog.

Playing referee, he picked it randomly, and I won a copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Arrive! I’m excited! Hallelujah!

Context here.