Pages

Showing posts with label LO#1c. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LO#1c. Show all posts

Monday, February 14, 2011

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

Yay! I finished Macbeth on Wednesday but I haven't had time to post about it until now. The best part of the play for me is Macbeth's speech after his wife has died:
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.

Macbeth doesn't have the sophistication of Hamlet, and it's hard to imagine the savage, rough Macbeth saying anything like Hamlet's To Be or Not To Be soliloquy, but this moment is just as tragic. Macbeth has lost his wife and the one person who understands him, who stood by him in all his scheming and aided him to the throne. As awful as his bloody ascent was, we have to feel sympathy for Macbeth as his world falls apart.

I remembered hearing an interview with Patrick Stewart about this speech, so I found it on Youtube. He tells some of the advice that he got from Ian McKellan as Stewart was beginning his run of Macbeth:


I watched both his and Ian McKellan's versions of the speech, and I can definitely see the influence there. However, I don't really like either version! Blasphemy, I know. But I think this speech is more beautiful on the page than read aloud. Aloud, it needs to be read with apathy or bitterness or desperation, and the shape of the words lose some of their beauty. What do you think--can you find a better version of the speech, or have I missed something of value in these two renditions?

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Taming Things I Hate About Shrew

Yeah, so, I'm alternating reading the text of Taming and watching 10 Things. They have almost nothing in common besides basic plot...ish. Certainly the frame story is left out. I think I like the frame. It doesn't make much sense as a practical joke, but it does put up red flags about the meaning of the play. If it's framed as a trick, does that mean the story of the shrew is a trick?

I'm already appreciating how different the comedies are from the tragedies, in that they are funny. Hamlet has some funny bits, but Polonius is no Grumio. It's too bad Whitney's doing As You Like It--I'd love to hear what she has to say about the humor in Taming.

It's interesting how the characters use the words "shrewd" to mean "shrewish." Today, "shrewd" means "clever, cunning, mischievous, savvy." Indeed, according to the OED the word has had many meanings: it can be used as a simple intensifier or to mean "harsh," "unsatisfactory," "irksome," or "piercing." Lots of versatility there! Most of these meanings were around in Shakespeare's time--I wonder if he played around with the meaning at all. (Psh, of course he did. It's Shakey.)

Finally, I think I'll use the line "Tis a very excellent piece of work. Would 'twere done." in my everyday life now. Brilliance.

Monday, January 17, 2011

To Be or Not to Be

I'm fascinated by this soliloquy. I love the heaviness of emotion tempered by logic. I appreciate how Hamlet weighs his options, level-headed but in so much pain. He tries so hard to justify taking his own life, but cannot, and with weariness returns to struggling with the mission of revenge that he undertook against his will.

I've watched the Gibson, Branagh, and Tennant versions over and over. Probably all of you have seen the first two, but if you haven't seen Tennant, you should watch his rendition.


It's trimmed down a bit from the original, which I didn't notice the first time I watched it because it still flows seamlessly. Actually, I like the cut better than the original: it leaves out the long, repetitious list of ills that makes the speech lose forward momentum.

I also like his exhaustion. Tennant's Hamlet yearns for sleep, a symptom of his depression. I love the way he says "awry," and how he's cut off by Ophelia's entrance: maybe Hamlet really did have more to say on the subject.

I watched a few other versions and mostly didn't like them: Lawrence Olivier's was stilted, Kevin Kline's was underwhelming (although his little smile after "to sleep" was cute), and Richard Burton's was unnatural. Derek Jacobi did a good job at a frenetic, hysterical Hamlet, which isn't my preferred interpretation but mixes things up interestingly:


[For all you Whovians out there, a fun bit of trivia: Derek Jacobi played the Master in the episode "Utopia," and in his version of Hamlet, Ophelia was played by none other than Lalla Ward, known best as Romana.]

I think that before the death of his father Hamlet was a happy person. He was friends with hilarious people at school and he loved to watch players. This speech may be the first time that he seriously contemplates the idea of suicide. Some readers/viewers complain that Hamlet is "emo" and teenager-ish in his constant complaints, but one must appreciate how good his life probably was before his father died: he had friends and a loving family, and he was a prince secure in his future. Claudius destroyed every aspect of his happiness, rending his family apart and even preventing him from returning to school. Then his father's ghost laid the task of revenge on him, making it impossible for Hamlet to grieve normally and rebuild his life. No wonder he desperately grasped for an easier option.

Of course, you can argue about whether or not he's sincere. If he knows he's being watched by Polonius and Claudius, he may just be acting to the full extent of his grief for their benefit, playing the madman. If he knows he's being watched by Ophelia, he may be pleading for sympathy or trying to renew their love. But if he believes that he's alone, then his speech is a cry to the universe:

Shall I go on?

Must I go on?


And by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.

The Weirdest Hamlet Video You Will Ever See


Surprisingly, Hamlet's ordeal would probably transfer well into Klingon culture. They wouldn't be very sympathetic to all his waffling or to his "Am I a coward?" soliloquy, but they'd love the end.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Branagh, Gibson, and Tennant

My focus so far in reading Hamlet has been to look for a diversity of interpretations. I'm reading the full text along with the "No Fear Shakespeare" translation and watching excerpts of three different versions--Kenneth Branagh, Mel Gibson, and David Tennant.

Thoughts:
  • Although NFS clarifies the more difficult passages, it makes the easier ones quite ridiculous and saps the life out of Shakespeare's verse. "About, my brain" is translated to "I need to get myself together here!"...*sporfle* I'm digging the exclamation point. 
  • With the exception of NFS, I like all the versions of "to be or not to be." I love the setting of Gibson's and the way he interacts with the objects around him to bring more feeling and depth to his rendition--actually, the entire Gibson production does this marvellously. I wasn't convinced by Branagh's version at first, but by the time he got to "When he himself might his quietus make / With a bare bodkin?" I was completely enraptured. Tennant's, however, is my favorite. His sheer exhaustion makes me believe that Hamlet is depressed and ready to give up. What's the point of going on when everything is pointless and draining? When nothing good can possibly happen? He finds no hope, only resignation. 
  • All three interactions with Ophelia are played very, very differently. Gibson acknowledges that he's being watched the earliest (immediately before "Are you honest?"), while Branagh seems to be somewhat aware throughout yet doesn't acknowledge the possible viewers until before "Where is your father?"; Tennant seems to be completely unaware that he's observed until just before "Where is your father?" Also, Branagh, while the least "mad" throughout, is the most violent; Gibson is the most sane and also the most genuinely angry; Tennant plays Hamlet as insane throughout, despite not believing he's being watched. (Maybe this is just because Tennant is so darn good at playing crazy.) Of the Ophelias, I think I believe Helena Bonham Carter the most and Mariah Gale (in Tennant's version) the least. 
  • The scene with Polonius is one of my favorites, in any version. I love Tennant's especially--both Tennant and Oliver Ford Davies have brilliant comedic timing. Oh, here, just watch it:
 

It's a little confusing trying to find the parallel parts of all these versions because Tennant's has changed the order of many scenes. I'm not sure if Branagh's and Gibson's do. I think I'd like to watch all three versions all the way through, back to back. Maybe I can persuade my roommates to have a Hamlet Saturday.