Plays! Especially The Comedy of Errors

Emma and I have stayed busy seeing several Shakespeare plays the last few weeks - we saw a production of The Taming of the Shrew in Seattle, yesterday we saw a broadcast of a production of King Lear running in London right now, starring Derek Jacobi - which was really great - and last week we saw a production of The Comedy of Errors at the Portland Actor's Conservatory. Whew!

If anyone in the Portland area is interested in seeing this production of The Comedy of Errors, it'll be running through March 6th - AND it's next week's play! Perfect timing, right? Both Emma and I enjoyed this production, which captured the silly farcicalness of the story excellently. Though nearly all the cast are student actors, and as such I didn't expect them to be as polished as professionals, there were several strong performances and the whole cast seemed to be fully committed to and take delight in the rollicking tale of separated twins and mistaken identity.

The production had some puzzling aspects - why, for example, was the goldsmith Angelo played by a girl coiffed, bespectacled and costumed to be a Harry Potter look-alike? Was it to play into the play's references to sorcery? If so, why was just one character - who was not, after all, a sorcerer -"wizardy"? In addition, the cast gamely struggled with a set that consisted solely of multiple doors that shook and clanged whenever opened and closed.

However, this production also has THE BEST, most convincing stage twinning that I have EVER SEEN. The two sets of twins really look A LOT alike!

Each of these productions we've seen in the last weeks, with their various concepts - Shrew set in the '60s, Lear set in an empty box with quasi-medieval/Victorian/Japanese costumes, this Comedy of Errors costumed as a modern/Edwardian mishmash with nearly everyone in bare feet - has reminded me that Shakespeare and his stories are so strong that they can support these interpretations. I'm a super picky and critical audience member, but I (nearly) always find a lot of things to appreciate in any production I see. I'm reminded of a Shakespeare in the Park production of the Comedy of Errors I saw last summer, where the entire cast spent most of the play in Edwardian bathing suits. And it was completely delightful!

So hie thee to the theater, and see what Shakespeare says today - on stage.

Richard III in Art

I think the reason that Richard III has inspired so many drawings and paintings is that the play is *so* dramatic. Dramatic even for Shakespeare, which is saying something, right? I wanted to post a few visual art pieces about Richard that I thought were particularly interesting (courtesy of Wikimedia Commons). Feel free to click to see larger versions.

The Guardian ran an article about this first painting a few years ago: "[The actor] David Garrick transfixed London in 1741 when he played Shakespeare's Richard III as a human being instead of a stagy monster. No one had seen acting like it..." Look at that extended hand - there's some commitment in movement! I think we can assume this is the scene in Act 5, Scene 5 when Richard dreams about being visited by the ghosts of all of his victims.

David Garrick as Richard III, by William Hogarth, approx. 1745
"Is there a murderer here?"

This next is a depiction of the same scene, but by William Blake. Since it's Blake, we get all the ghosts...

Read more »

Richard III Society

Tonight I was surprised to find something called The Richard III Society on the internet. It is not an international confederacy of assassination-minded dictators, nor a bad historical romance novel (either of which could be a menace to society). Rather, it is a club with the following mission:

In the belief that many features of the traditional accounts of the character and career of Richard III are neither supported by sufficient evidence nor reasonably tenable, the Society aims to promote, in every possible way, research into the life and times of Richard III, and to secure a reassessment of the material relating to this period, and of the role of this monarch in English history...

Richard’s infamy over the centuries has been due to the continuing popularity, and the belief in, the picture painted of Richard III by William Shakespeare in his play of that name. The validity of this representation of Richard has been queried over the centuries and has now been taken up by the Society.

The Society has over 3,500 members worldwide. It operates on many levels and is open to laymen and historians alike...

A whole society dedicated to vindicating and defending King Richard! Interesting, hm? Their website is here.

I find it somewhat touching that Richard has his partisans, after all this time. There seem to be plenty of them - their membership numbers are rather astonishing in fact, especially given that it'll cost you 26 quid to join up. And the most notable member would have to be their patron, the current Duke of Gloucester, whose name is actually Richard (!).

But what of the wicked Richard of Shakespeare, the "the troubler of the poore Worlds peace"? "Tudor propaganda," says the Richard III Society. Do we agree? Was the historical Richard innocent? C-Span may have the answer...

Richard III - Busy Bee

Richard. God take King Edward to his mercy,
And leave the world for me to bustle in!
(Richard III, 1.1.159-160)

No one could ever accuse Richard III of being anything less than tremendously energetic. I love this line, as the picture that it paints of Richard bustling about everywhere highlights his busy, restless nature. "Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous" (1.1.33) - Richard just can't keep still. 

This week, watching Al Pacino's documentary about the character, Looking for Richard (a kind of strange but interesting little film, but I digress), I particulary noted a point made by one of the scholars interviewed - that Richard had previously lived in a world of incessant war (as is so tragically shown in the three Henry VI plays), and now that the peace has come, he simply doesn't know what to do with himself.

 I think this insight into Richard's character is totally right. A few weeks ago, when we were reading and watching Henry VI Part 3, I was struck by how effective Richard is as a warrior - he's charismatic, brave, inspiring, a tremendous orator, and fully committed to his father's cause. War seems to be an arena where he can excel, despite his self-conciousness about his disability.

But, when the peace comes, what will Richard do with all the ambition and energy that had been channelled into war?

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
(1.1.6-9)

Richard hates it all! He feels cut off from everything, no longer useful or important. So of course he turns to what he'd been trained up to, what he'd seen his father do his whole life: plotting to win what had always been seen as the greatest prize for the Yorks - the crown. And of course, just like what happened with his father, there's a lot of family blood shed in the process. Richard's mother touches on all of this - the father's example, the impossibility of lasting peace, the tragedy of brother against brother - in a speech where she laments her griefs and losses:

Duchess of York. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days,
How many of you have mine eyes beheld!
My husband lost his life to get the crown;
And often up and down my sons were toss'd,
For me to joy and weep their gain and loss:
And being seated, and domestic broils
Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors.
Make war upon themselves; blood against blood,
Self against self...
(2.4.1543-1551)

Richard doesn't let the cease of "domestic broils" or the ties of family stop him. He bustles.

Richard III - Disability

Queen Margaret. And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy,
Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice
Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?
(Henry VI part 3, 1.4.514-516)

An integral part of Richard III's identity is his physical deformity. A hunchback, he is not only mocked about his physical appearance by people who barely know him (like Queen Margaret quoted above, who focuses on Richard's disability when talking to his father the Duke of York), but he himself is acutely, painfully self-aware of his appearance and physical challenges:

[Love] did corrupt frail nature with some bribe,
To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub;
To make an envious mountain on my back,
Where sits deformity to mock my body;
To shape my legs of an unequal size;
To disproportion me in every part,
Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp
That carries no impression like the dam.
(Henry VI part 3, 3.2.1644-1651)

Looking at Richard's disability and how it shapes his character, as well as the audience's perception of him, could be an almost never-ending study. However, just one aspect of the deformity that I want to look at is the perception articulated by Queen Margaret in the quotation above - that the disability marks him as a "prodigy," meaning that his exterior appearance serves a sort of sign or portent for the state of his character. Richard's crooked outside, as it is read by his enemies, indicates a crooked soul!

Of course, Richard embraces wickedness and, fulfilling the beliefs of those who hold that the outside matches the inside, does mangle his soul and distort his concience. Could it be that Richard was really born with a worse character than anyone else? His mother does mention that he was always bad:

Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;
Thy school-days frightful, desperate, wild, and furious,
Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous,
Thy age confirm'd, proud, subdued, bloody, treacherous...
(Richard III, 4.4.2967-2970)

However, I think it's supported by the text to read Richard's disability not as shaping him in some sort of mystical way, but rather as affecting him by setting him apart from others. Richard is constantly faced with comments and unkind words about his appearance, and based on this he allows his deformity to isolate him; he cuts himself off from certain activities and feels bitterness over the fact that he is left out.

A perfect example is his attitude towards love and women (Richard's relationship with women is a HUGE topic, which deserves a post all its own!). However, for the quick version, it's clear that he feels that his appearance is such that no woman would really want to be with him. Sad, right? This is one of the many times that we can empathize with Richard and hope that he could somehow learn to see himself in a more healthy way. BUT NO - Richard takes his unfortunate situation and makes it WORSE by taking his status as an outsider and expanding it into hatred for anyone who has anything and everything that he feels himself cut off from:

I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
(1.1.19-32, emphasis added)

Richard III is the Worst. John Barrymore is the Best.

If Shakespeare hasn't already convinced you that Richard is bad, bad, bad, perhaps the great actor John Barrymore can. This speech, filmed in 1929, is technically from Henry VI, part 3, but parts of it are sometimes included in Richard III performances (notably Laurence Olivier's). Check this out...


Ooooooh, scary! I'm glad I'm not related to *him*!

To appreciate how amazing-kamazing Barrymore was, compare the video above (of him being Richard) with the video below (of him being John Barrymore, on a well-behaved day). This is his introduction to the Richard soliloquy. Does he even seem like the same person?


There are a lot of Richard videos out there. But Barrymore sets the curve.

Richard III - A Villain

Richard III. As Shakespeare paints him, he is a thoroughly bad lot. The title of the first version of the play to be published, the quarto of 1597, makes that very clear, as it details his bad deeds throughout the course of the play:

THE TRAGEDY OF

King Richard the third.

Containing,

His treacherous Plots against his brother Clarence: the pittiefull murther of his iunocent nephewes: his tyrannicall vsurpation: with the whole course of his detested life, and most deserued death.

(Richard III)

I love that line - "his detested life." So, Richard is a murderer, a schemer, and unnaturally pitiless. Why do we care about him? Why do we listen to his many soliloquies, speeches delivered to no one but us, the audience? Why is Richard so fascinating?

Perhaps it's because, as a villain, he's fully aware and deliberate about it. No sooner have we met him again in the first speech of Richard III (he, of course, is our old acquaintance from Henry VI part 3), than he flat-out tells us of all his wicked plans: "I am determined to prove a villain" (1.1.30). I think it's this self-awareness about Richard that makes us watch him. He's decided his course, but he includes us in everything; he tells us his secrets, his jokes and his fears. He's laid the plots, but since he's told us about them, we are - perhaps unwillingly - complicit in the crimes and along for the ride. 

Taming of the Shrew: Hello, Seattle

This Saturday, Shakespeare girl and I took a day trip up to Seattle. Needless to say, a few weeks prior to the trip, I googled all over the internet for a Shakespeare production in Seattle that weekend. But I came up with... nothing. I admitted my failure to Shakespeare girl, and she told me, "Oh, no, there's a production of Taming of the Shrew up there that night." She had seen it on facebook. Facebook > Google?

Anyway, I'm very pleased I was able to go to the quiet - that's the name of the theatre company, not a description of the play - production of The Taming of the Shrew last weekend (incidentally, the Shakespeare quote "Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones" is from The Taming of the Shrew - III, II, 242). Review below!

First off, if I had been paying attention as I entered the theatre, I would have known that Director Josh Hornbeck's vision for the play focused on the gender issues in the play, specifically the ill-treatment of women. I could have guessed this because of the lovely (not really) posters adorning the entrance to the theatre.

Examples.

"Blow in her face and she'll follow you anywhere." Well, tobacco was introduced to Europe in the late 1500's, shortly before 'Taming' was written....

And if that one's not bad enough...

Read more »

Titus Andronicus - Excess and Logic

Demetrius. She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd;
She is a woman, therefore may be won;
She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved.
(Titus Andronicus, 2.1.636-638)

Earl of Suffolk. She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd;
She is a woman, therefore to be won.

(Henry VI Part 1, 5.3.2538-2589)

Titus Andronicus, bloody and horrifying, is a hard play to watch. Although we can read it as Shakespeare's "slasher film," I think that we can also look at it as an exploration of excess and the consequences of taking ideas - beliefs, cultural values - to their logical conclusion or end point.

Take the treatment of women in the play, for example. Obviously the final fate of Lavinia -  raped by the killers of her husband, her tongue cut out, her hands chopped off, ultimately stabbed to death by her father - is not something that most people would think is okay. It's violently excessive, right? BUT - and I think this is the important part - Shakespeare shows us the kind of attitudes toward women that can lead to this kind of result.

Demetrius and Chiron don't start out plotting to rape Lavinia - they just think she's cute and want to seduce her away from her husband. They say that they "love" her. But we've seen this sort of slippery slope before in The Two Gentlemen of Verona - would-be rapist Proteus starts out by trying to actually win Silvia's love, but when she won't agree, he decides he's entitled to take what he wants. Interestingly, both scenes where the women are threatened with rape take place in the forest, away from the structures and safety of civilization - Silvia is saved seemingly by a miracle, but in Titus, where everything goes to the logical extreme of the idea, there are no miracles to be had.

I think that the question being raised here, in both plays, boils down to this: what are women actually for? (This isn't a joke, by the way.) We've got Demetrius' answer, quoted above: She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd;/She is a woman, therefore may be won. But Demetrius, a pagan character from the classical past, isn't the only Shakespeare character who says this - Suffolk, an English nobleman in Henry VI Part 1, says almost exactly the same thing, word for word, about the woman who later becomes the queen of England! She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd;/ She is a woman, therefore to be won. Brings it a little closer to home, perhaps?

In both cases, these sentiments seem to just go by without much discussion or comment. Perhaps, watching the play, one might feel either mild disagreement - or agreement! - with this answer to the question what are women for. But then Shakespeare shows us Lavina, and we have to face the logical end result of a belief that women exist to be wooed and won by men. We see Lavinia - brutalized, tramautized, humiliated, alone in the forest spitting out blood - and the play seems to say, Look! How do you like this now?

Re: Titus Andronicus - A Play about Family?

Wow, Shakespeare girl, that last post is really interesting. It took me back to my Roman Family Law course in college, where one of the basic rules we learned was that the Roman pater familias held the the "patria potestas" - the father's power. This power did in fact include the right of life and death. It also extended over the whole household, including all descendants in the male line (so the younger Lucius would be under Titus', not his own father's power, legally).

In practice, the right to kill one's own descendents was largely theoretical, and was eventually done away with, which was a very good thing, especially if you happened to be an ancient Roman. Of course, killing *other people's* descendants, which so far seems to be also much of what this play is about, was not okay (an exception in the play to this might possibly have been the death of Alarbus, since he's a captive of Titus, and slaves were under patria potestas. Except the whole human sacrifice thing was totally disgusting and seems highly, highly unrealistic for late Imperial Rome, but anyways...).

I wonder how much Roman law influenced Shakespeare in writing this play - I'll be watching out for these family law themes, as I finish up the play! (perhaps that will give me something else to think about other than "yuck!" and "gross!").

Titus Andronicus - A Play about Family?

Tamora. I'll find a day to massacre them all
And raze their faction and their family,
The cruel father and his traitorous sons,
To whom I sued for my dear son's life,
And make them know what 'tis to let a queen
Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.
(Titus Andronicus, 1.1.500-505)

Lucius. My lord, you are unjust, and, more than so,
In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.

Titus Andronicus. Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine;
My sons would never so dishonour me:
Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor.
(1.1.335-337)

I recently watched an old BBC program about Titus that put forward the interpretation that the play, at its heart, is about "the excesses and ambiguities of family relationships." I think I agree with this - it's true that Titus targets Tamora's son for sacrifice due to his family identity, and, as quoted above, that Tamora seeks to revenge herself on Titus by hurting him through the complete distruction of his family. However, on the excesses and ambiguities side, there is a lot more going on here than simple love and loyalty leading to revenge after one of the family members is harmed - rather, I think that the play suggests that both Titus and Tamora look at their families as part and parcel of their individual noble and high reputations and identities.

We can see this in the opening quote from Tamora - clearly she doesn't want her son to be killed. Obviously! But in addition to her natural grief, she also links the loss of her son to an attack on her reputation and status, saying that she'll "make them know what 'tis to let a queen/Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain." She doesn't just want to revenge the death of her son, but to also revenge the slap at her (taking her son away from her). This, to me, seems to suggest that in the world of Titus Andronicus, family shapes the identity of the individual, but kind of in terms of ownership - the leader or parent in the family is built up by their followers within the family, and the leader's reputation is closely involved with the control they exert over their family. When Tamora's son is sacrificed, she not only loses someone she had affection for, but she has lost control over the family because she has no say in his fate.

We see this aspect of control in Titus' relationships with his children as well. Titus grieves for the loss of his sons in the wars, but though he's sad, he had control over the situation - they were fighting in his wars for Rome, and he knew that their deaths were a possible consequence of his actions. Titus' desire for control and his concern for his reputation as linked to his family is even more clearly seen in Titus' reaction to his sons' defence of Bassianus' marriage to their sister Lavinia. TITUS GOES NUTS! He disowns and disinherits them all and even KILLS one of his own sons over the quarrel. Check out how all of Titus' words imply that he defines family as something that brings honor to him and something that he has control over (ie bestowing Lavinia in marriage). When these controls are not in place, Titus' family is no longer his family!

Marcus Andronicus. O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done!
In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.

Titus Andronicus. No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine,
Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed
That hath dishonour'd all our family;
Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons!

Lucius. But let us give him burial, as becomes;
Give Mutius burial with our brethren.

Titus Andronicus. Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb:
This monument five hundred years hath stood,
Which I have sumptuously re-edified:
Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors
Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls:
Bury him where you can; he comes not here. ....

Titus Andronicus. What, would you bury him in my despite?

Marcus Andronicus. No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee
To pardon Mutius and to bury him.

Titus Andronicus. Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest,
And, with these boys, mine honour thou hast wounded:
My foes I do repute you every one;
So, trouble me no more, but get you gone.

(1.1.383-410)

It's interesting to note that the effects of Titus' killing of his own son are the same as if someone else had killed him; Titus and his sons and brother are deprived of the company and support of their son, brother and nephew. However, there is no thought of revenge, or even that much soul-searching regret. An act that would be grounds for eternal enmity if perpetrated by someone outside the family group is bad, regrettable, but ultimately forgiveable if commited by the paterfamilias.

All of these examples are from the beginning of the play, but I just want to mention that this control over the lives of the members of the family when it affects the honor of the individual leading the family is demonstrated again by both Titus and Tamora in their respective treatment of Lavinia and Tamora's child by Aaron. Family is valuable; family can support and honor the leader; but ultimately the family is there to support the honor and reputation of that individual. And the followers of the family agree with this, as is shown by Marcus' willingness to sacrifice himself for Titus' honor:

Marcus. The poor remainder of Andronici
Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down.
And on the ragged stones beat forth our brains,
And make a mutual closure of our house.
(5.3.2670-2673)

Titus Andronicus - No Mercy

Tamora. ... Gracious conqueror,
Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
A mother's tears in passion for her son:
And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
O, think my son to be as dear to me!
...
Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood:
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
Draw near them then in being merciful:
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge:
Thrice noble Titus, spare my first-born son.
(Titus Andronicus, 1.1.120-137)

Titus Andronicus seems to be one of those plays that people either hate or have a mild liking or toleration for. Those that love Titus along the lines that people love, say, Hamlet or A Midsummer Night’s Dream appear to be few and far between, but it’s easy to find the haters - Titus’ critical history is full of readers and scholars who wanted to attribute the authorship of the play elsewhere because they could not believe that Shakespeare would dirty his hands with this bloody and downright disgusting tale. And trust me, the gore and grossness is laid on thick - check out a synopsis if you dare. We've got human sacrifice, cannibalism, rape, mutilation, and more murders than you would believe possible. You've been warned.

The poet and critic T.S. Eliot, as quoted in the introduction to the play in the Norton Shakespeare, called it “one of the stupidest and most uninspired plays ever written.” Believe me, I totally understand why someone would dislike this play, but this seems unfair. Surely the themes that Shakespeare is playing on here - revenge and the role of  mercy/mercilessness; misplaced sense of duty towards tradition;  pride and care for reputation shaping attitudes toward family; the treatment of women - are interesting and thought-provoking.

Today I’m just going to look a little bit at revenge and the lack of mercy in this play. Basically all the violence throughout, except the death of Titus’ son Mutius, results from a need for revenge between Titus and Tamora, captive Queen of the Goths. In this way the moral landscape of the play is not really black and white, because both Tamora and Titus are justified in seeking revenge - both have been hurt by the other. Even though Tamora emerges as a monster of cruelty, plotting and colluding in absolutely atrocious violence, it could be argued that viewed through the lens of a revenge culture, she does nothing wrong. Why should she be faithful to Saturninus? She’s a captive. Why should she show mercy to Titus' daughter Lavinia? Titus showed no mercy to her, ordering her son Alarbus to be killed as a sacrifice.

Mercy is conspicuous in this play by its absence. This is seen in the quotation above, where Tamora begs Titus to mercifully grant the life of her son and he refuses. The terms that uses to describe mercy - Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?/ Draw near them then in being merciful - sound really familiar: Valentine from The Two Gentlemen of Verona discusses mercy in just this way. We’ve also seen, from our discussion of Henry VI, another example of mercilessness, in the killing of York’s son Rutland.

A difference between the mercy asked for in Titus and the mercy appealed to in the Christian worlds of both Two Gentlemen and Henry VI is that Titus, though urged to consider heaven and the gods in his decision to grant or deny mercy, believes that his higher religious duty lies in presenting a sacrifice. This culturally condoned mercilessness is what allows for the act of violence that sets off the chain of revenging actions, and ultimately the devastation of “old Titus' sorrowful house" (5.3.2682).

Happy Valentine's Day!

I must admit that it is rather unfortunate that this week's play is Titus Andronicus.

Guess what - today I'm just not going to post a quote from Titus Andronicus! I really cannot think of a single play in existence more inappropriate for Valentine's day.

Although, I suppose a person could have some affection for the play, hard though it might be to imagine. This question was raised last week at the library, as I was checking out armfuls of books and films of Titus. The boy behind the library desk looked at all of the materials - looked at me - looked at my stuff again, many of the covers of which feature pleasing pictures of bleeding severed heads and suchlike, and inquired politely, "so - do you love Titus Andronicus?"

Why, oh why couldn't I have scheduled Romeo and Juliet?

So, just to make everyone feel better and get our minds off of Titus Andronicus, here is a Shakespeare Valentine featuring a beautiful quote from Much Ado About Nothing:

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

Valentine's Day Surprise!

Are you in Seattle, and still haven't figured out a special Shakespearean Valentine's Day surprise for your beloved? You may be in luck! As found on the internets:

Don't have the words to express your love?
Shakespeare does.

Seattle's Sound Theatre Company and GreenStage are teaming up to create a unique and cherished gift for your valentine this year... A Shakespearean actor, dressed in character (and full costume of course) will perform a popular love sonnet for your sweetie and then grace them with a token of your love. We can even bring flowers and chocolates to make the event even more special and memorable.
HOW IT WORKS:
One of our Shakespearean actors shows up at a place of your choosing to surprise your valentine. After some fun introductions in character to break the ice, the actor will perform one of Shakespeare's love sonnets and a special message from you.

Fun times! I wish them the best. More at: http://www.valentinesonnets.org/

Happy Valentine's Day to all! (and don't treat your valentine like Valentine did... or Proteus either).

Henry VI - three plays?

A random thought on the Henry VI plays - why three? The plays are VERY LONG, and if you look at them, the dramatic arc of the story as a whole works pretty well, but the individual plays (especially part 1) seem more episodic. When I read part 1, I felt like the play should have ended soon after the death of Talbot - but instead we have a whole new act following!

It's also worth noting that a lot of people cut and adapt these plays for performance. I watched part of a taped production where the story of all three plays was split into two parts titled "The House of York" and "The House of Lancaster," and the BBC Shakespeare history series  An Age of Kings edited Henry VI part 1 into one hour-long episode (!). So my humble suggestion is to continue this tradition of slicing the plays up for performance - but to break them into four parts. This way, each part would be shorter without cutting large portions of the script, and each part would have a stronger, more distinct story focus.

I'd break it up thusly: Henry VI part 1  would end directly after Act 5.1, where Henry and Gloucester decide to have a peace with France (which would be moved after 5.2-4 and 5.6 up to line 94 - these are the scenes that depict the capture and condemnation of Joan). One could also include the second part of 5.6, where York and Winchester make peace with the French - the important thing is to get Margaret and Suffolk out of this play and into part 2, where (in my opinion) they fit much better.

Part 2 (which I would call, going off of the title in the 1st Folio, Henry VI - The Death of the Good Duke Humphrey) would begin with Act 5 scene 5 from Part 1, where Suffolk meets Margaret, and would end with the deaths of Suffolk and Winchester. (I would probably switch the order of their death scenes, putting Act 4.1 before 3.3, in order to end with Winchester's death). My reason for this sectioning of the play lies in the fact that Suffolk does almost nothing in Henry VI Part 1 until the very end, when he emerges as a major villain, which part he holds through 2/3rds of Part 2. This way, Suffolk is a major character in only one play, and his clash with Humphrey is the main focus of the story.

Part 3 (Which, based off of the Octavo title, I would call Henry VI - The Tragedy of Richard, Duke of York) would cover the Cade rebellion up to the death of York, ending after Act 2 scene 1 - Edward resolving to fight and win the crown his father should have worn. I would split this one here because York is such an important, intense character, and there is a certain finality to his death. Edward is such a different personality.

Part 4 (Titled, obviously, Edward IV) would go from 2.2 of Henry VI Part 3 and cover the rise and wars of Edward IV, up until the end of the play. And then, of course, we are into Richard III....

Question. How possible is it to enjoy any of the Henry VI plays alone without the others?