What
After drawing lots to tell the first story, the Knight wins and proceeds. Its important to note that this, like a lot of medieval stories dealing with the Classical world, is full of anachronisms, such as ancient “Athenians” dressing up like knights and jousting. Hardcore historians, as one of you, I’m letting you know in advance to just let it go.
Why
It’s the first actual tale of the Canterbury Tales. Its also very long, rather boring, and usually a cause for people to give up on the Tales. This hasn’t stopped it from influencing other writers, such as John Dryden to rewrite it (and actually lengthen it) for a contemporary audience, or Shakespeare to co-write a play based on it. The best sports movie about competitive jousting is connected with a very thin thread to it and is named the same thing. Its fun. Check it out. Chaucer’s a character in it. Chaucer himself cribbed the story off Boccaccio’s Decameron.
The (Spoiler Free) Basics
In Ancient Athens, King Theseus imprisons two knights for decades, they both fall in love with a woman they can only see from their tiny window way up high, and when both are finally out of prison, they proceed to fight over her hand on the field of honor. It’s a typical plot for Courtly Romance.
From here on there be spoilers….
The Knight’s Tale Part 1
Once upon a time, long ago in ancient Athens, there ruled Theseus, manly conqueror and beater of ass. He was so manly and heroic that he conquered the Amazons and married their queen Ypolita. He brought his bride and her younger sister Emelye back to Athens. The narrator (the Knight) says that he’s glossing over how Theseus got where he is because the story’s long enough without it. Which to me, is a warning flag. You’d think the Knight, a trained fighting man, would have lots of cool stories about violence to tell. I mean, he’s been trained since childhood to love the stuff. It’s exciting stuff that audiences love. Why’s he skipping it?
Anyway, on the ride back to Athens, Theseus sees a couple women dressed in mourning black robes and wailing. They don’t stop wailing until they grab his reigns (which tells me that he just wanted to ride past them because there was drinking and swyving to do). He asks them why they’re crying and disrupting his party (seriously) and if there’s anything that can be done about it.
The eldest woman (the widow of the former ruler of Thebes) tells him that they’re all widows of husbands killed in the siege of Thebes and that lord of that city, Creon, has dishonored the dead by forbidding them from being given proper burial, instead piling them up outside the city for the dogs to eat (because he’s a tyrant and that’s what tyrants do.) The women wail some more.
Theseus jumps down off his horse and swears that he shall make Creon pay for his evil and sends Ypolita and Emelye into Athens. The swyving can wait, there’s asses to be beaten, and Theseus unfurls his banner and rides for Thebes.
With a few mentions of past glories, such as slaying the Minotaur on Crete, Theseus reaches Thebes, there’s a battle and he stabs Creon so hard that he explodes in a rainbow of blood. Not really, but the battle is started and won in a few lines, I figured I’d add some color to it (get it? Creon? Color? Ehhhhhh…). He proudly gives the widows back the stinking corpses of the dead so that they can bury them (instead of doing it himself, I feel I should point out). How…considerate of him.
The victorious Athenians heroically loot the corpses of the dead. But wait, among the bodies are two grievously wounded knights, Arcite and Palamon, cousins, and are recognized from their heraldry as rather important Theban nobility. They are taken to Theseus, who has them sent to Athens in chains, heroically refusing to even consider ransoming them.
His job done, Theseus rides home to Athens, leaving Thebes in the control of…um, the helpless, wailing widows? Who have their hands full burying the dead? Its not like Thebes has an army anymore to defend itself. Theseus is a dick, though to be fair, he probably wants to get back home and swyve his hot Amazonian wife.
The army goes back to Athens. Theseus rides in all triumphant-like and Arcite & Palamon are thrown into a tower forever. Its more fun when you say it like that kid from the Sandlot. How long? FOUR-EH-VER!
Years pass. The two knights, who Theseus repeatedly refuses to ransom because he’s a dick, are still in the tower. Seriously, ransoming valuable prisoners was a pretty common occurrence back in the day and Theseus could make some pretty nice cash in the process. Why he doesn’t aside from “I don’t wanna,” isn’t a particularly merciful thing to do. And its not like he’s being courteous and kind to them either. They’re locked up in a tower for X number of years. If he was really polite, he’d let them go without ransoming them. You know what, this is now a drinking game. Every time Theseus acts like a dick in this tale, take a shot. There’s one for this, then one for trying to ignore the wailing women, one for not burying the dead for the women, one for leaving the women defenseless, and one for imprisoning Palamon & Arcite FOUR-EH-VER! So that’s five so far.
So years pass and one May, Emelye, who is a hot blonde with a broad forehead (Chaucer knew what got his audiences hot), is walking around the courtyard picking flowers and singing little songs. Palamon has been given the luxury of being allowed to walk around in a higher chamber with a nice view of the city/ How…generous of Theseus. “Look, I know I’ve been keeping you here as a prisoner for years and refusing to ransom you guys even though you’re worth a lot of money, so I’m going to do you the honor of letting you in another room where you can get a good look at my awesome city that you can’t walk around in.” Take a shot.
Anyway, Palamon sees Emelye and falls in love immediately. Now, he’s at a high enough vantage that he can see the whole city, so he probably doesn’t see a whole lot of details of the girl other than the blonde hair. However, I’ll probably let him have this one because she’s probably the first woman he’s seen in years. He sighs and swoons, and Arcite asks him what’s wrong. Palamon says its not their imprisonment that hurts him so, but a woman as beautiful as Venus. So now Palamon wants Arcite’s help to bust out of their prison, and asks the heavens to show compassion on their noble lineage, brought low by tyranny. I’d say that qualifies as a shot.
Arcite looks out the window and the same thing happens to him; swooning and sighing. This leads to the sexual frustration of X years in jail and an argument between the cousins over who loves the fair maiden more. They argue like the two guys from Waiting For Godot before patching things up because they realize that neither of them can leave their prison anyway, so what’s the point in arguing? Unless of course, they’re bored out of their skulls.
One day, a certain Duke Perotheus arrives at Athens. He’s a friend of Theseus and Arcite, and is able to convince Theseus to let Arcite go without ransom. However, this being Theseus, he can’t just let him go on his merry way. He forbids Arcite to ever return to Athens or anywhere else that Theseus rules over (presumably the Amazons, too) on pain of death. For no reason. It doesn’t seem to be because he knows about Arcite & Palamon’s feelings for Emelye. He just makes up the condition. Take a shot. Arcite agrees that it’s a fair deal (never mind that Palamon, his cousin and oath brother, is still in the tower). Drinking addendum: Take a shot any time Palamon and/or Arcite do something glaringly stupid. Like right now.
So Arcite leaves the city and starts wailing and whining, because he’s still in love with Emelye. He curses his birth, his life, and his friend Perotheus for arranging his freedom. Arcite would rather be in prison and peeping down at Emelye in the garden. Take a shot. He goes on like this for a while.
Palamon, back in the tower, is ALSO wailing and gnashing his teeth, because Arcite is free and Palamon fears he’ll lay siege to Athens so he can conquer Theseus and take Emelye for himself. Which isn’t a bad idea, actually, if not for the fact that Arcite is a blockhead. The cousins lament and whine for a long time, at least a year.
The Knight breaks the narrative to ask the audience (the pilgrims, presumably) which lover has the worse situation, Palamon or Arcite? I’m going to go with Palamon, because he at least has the right idea and can’t do anything about it: Besiege the city, storm it, stab the jerkass Theseus and take Emelye (and potentially rescue the imprisoned cousin). Ok, maybe its not really the best way to introduce yourself to a woman you’ve been ogling out of a tenth story window, but it sure would be exciting. Arcite seems to be the dumb one of the two. Also, Chaucer himself was a POW for a little while before being ransomed, so I’m going to reinforce my vote for Palamon.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Geoffrey Chaucer - The Canterbury Tales
The General Prologue
What: The best known work written in Middle English and arguably the greatest showcase of all 3 social classes in Medieval England and a wide variety of story genres. Chaucer may have been showing off a little, but damn if he wasn’t good at what he did. Written throughout the course of his lifetime and unfinished at his death in 1400, it is the secular cultural high water mark of Medieval English literature. Yeah, its significant.
Why: Because something as important to English Literature is also something almost universally hated by High School English students for being damn long and the words look funny (it is, after all, written in Middle English). Also, I’m currently reading it for a graduate class, so I might as well make the most of it. Students should consider themselves lucky, since there are only 22 tales instead of the planned 124. (these are the same people who sigh in relief knowing that The Faerie Queene could’ve been longer too).
The (Spoiler Free) Basics: A large contingent of pilgrims set out from London to Canterbury in springtime and swap stories along the way. The stories range from pious morality tales to bawdy stories involving loud farting and kissing arse cheeks. And there’s a talking rooster in there too.
From here on there be spoilers….
General Prologue: Here Bygynneth The Book of the Tales of Caunterbury
Its Springtime in Soggy Ol’ England, when April showers usher in warm weather, sunshine and pilgrimage season. Canterbury, the place of St. Thomas a Becket’s martyrdom is the English site of choice to visit (since its much more convenient and safer than traveling to Jerusalem) and the roads are full of pilgrims.
The narrator, whom I’ll call “Chaucer” to differentiate from the actual Chaucer, stops off on his trip at the Tabard Inn in Southwerk, itching to get his pilgrimage on. At night, there are 29 fellow pilgrims there from all walks of life, and “Chaucer” being a thorough fellow, meets them all.
The Knyght (Knight) is described as a worthy fighting man, one who’s crusaded all over Europe in places like Egypt, Prussia, Russia, Spain, Asia Minor and so on. For all his credentials, he’s surprisingly modestly dressed for a knight, either a sign of his humility or illegitimate “knightly” status (depending on who’s theories you prefer).
The Squier (Squire) is the Knight’s son, a young man of 20 who dresses smart, can sing pretty well, and likes the ladies. A lot. He’s a dandy, but he’s also trained in war, having followed the Knight on his journeys.
The Yeman (Yeoman) is next, attendant to the Knight & Squire. A heavily armed professional soldier wearing green and carrying a bow, he’s also a forester and doesn’t seem to talk much. He’s likely a veteran Longbowman, commoners trained to shoot arrows with a high degree of skill in England (in contrast to continental bowmen who were considered crap troops, unlike continental crossbowmen, who were rather desirable in warfare. History rant over).
The Prioresse (Prioress) a friendly nun named Eglentyne. She’s from noble stock, likes dainty things, speaks French (but not Proper Parisian French), is concerned with manners and is very kind to her dogs. She’s much more a noblewoman than a nun, and her portrayal is subtle and complex. With her is another Nun, a Chaplain and 3 Priests.
The Monk, a “manly man” who liked riding, hunting and the manly arts more common in the upper classes. Also a big fan of eating. Its hinted that he’s not as chaste as he should be either. It seems he likes all of these things better than actually being in his cloister and doing monkly things. In fact, he’s not all that interested in following the Rule of St. Benedict, thinking that there’s not enough time set aside for hunting in it. Also, he owns his own hunting gear and wears fur-lined robes and wears supple leather boots, all of which he can’t own according to the Rule.
Hubert the Frere (Friar) a traveling mendicant who abuses his station, heard frequent confessions (more than a priest would normally hear), handed out easy penances in exchange for bribes and seduced countless women. He could sing bawdy ballads, frequented taverns and spoke with a slight lisp. Very clearly not a role model.
The Marchant (Merchant) has a forked beard, brightly dressed and sitting high on his horse. He’s all about looking rich and important, speaking loftily and generally being nuveau riche. He knows how to turn a tidy profit, which is technically illegal.
The Clerk of Oxenford (Oxford) is a university student working on his Masters, shabby and starving, just like his horse, he used his words carefully and had a fixation on his books. There’s a pun on Philosophy/alchemy in there about not being able to make any gold (ie., he’s poor)
The Sergeant Of The Lawe (Law), a legal counselor equivalent to a lawyer. He’s not as busy as he seems, knows the law in and out, and its hinted that he uses this knowledge to his financial advantage in legal matters.
With him is a Frankeleyn (Franklin), a sanguinary, epicurean landowner. He liked a good meal and would point it out on the cook if his sauces weren’t prepared right. An important man in his home community.
A couple working men; Haberdasshere (Haberdasher), Carpenter, Webbe (Weaver), Dyere (Dyer), and Tapycer (Tapestry-maker). All are clad in solemn clothes of some fraternity or guild. They’re not particularly interesting or important, but they have a servant with them that is.
The Cook is apparently a kitchen wizard and is quite skilled. A shame that he has a sore on his leg that had pus the same color as a blancmange, the implications of which are…unpleasant to think about.
The Shipman (Sailor) from Dertemouthe, a rough-and-tumble fellow armed with a dagger, heavily tanned and apparently something of an asshole. Stole some drinks from the cargo hold while on duty a couple times. A dangerous fellow who’s a dirty fighter and had blood on his hands (he’s drowned people he’s fought at sea instead of taking them prisoner), but also prudent in what he did. His ship was the Magdalen.
The Doctour of Phisik (Doctor of Physic), a skilled physician also obsessed with wacky old-age astrology. Well, a little more so than his peers would’ve been. Astrology was a legitimate part of science in those days (sort of like how alchemy and chemistry were joined at the hip for a long time).
The Wif of Bathe (Wife Of Bath), a middle-aged, partly deaf, well-to-do middle class woman who’s a pretty good seamstress to boot. Cheerful, lusty, redheaded, had pilgrimaged thrice to Jerusalem and has been married five times. Think “Medieval Lucille Ball” and work from there.
The Persoun of a Toun (Town Parson) is a modest, kindly, simple parish priest. Learned, but humble, he’s a good man and a good priest concerned with his parish and doesn’t like having people excommunicated.
The Plowman is the Parson’s brother (actually or spiritually), another good, simple, honest man.
The Miller is a big, bearded, boisterous fellow who likes crude jokes and has a short temper, is armed with a sword and buckler and has a fugly wart on his nose. He carried a set of bagpipes around and played them as the troupe left town. He’s rough, loud, annoying and highly entertaining.
The Maunciple (Manciple) is a servant of a law inn (legal firm, for lack of a better term). A shrewd buyer who knew how to buy low and sell high, which worked out well for him, since he worked for 30 lawyers. He is clearly smarter than all 30 of them.
The Reve (Reeve) is a choleric man, ill-tempered and a former carpenter. He’s an estate manager for a lord who’s done well (both for the lord and himself). The servants under him hate and fear him. He used to be a carpenter and is from “Northfolk” (Norfolk).
The Somonour (Summoner) is a disgusting human being. Lecherous, narrow-eyed, red faced and ugly enough to make children cry. Stinks of garlic, onions & leeks. A minor church official who’s job it was to summon people to ecclesiastical courts. He’s a slimy jerkass.
The Pardoner, his friend, is equally unsavory. A corrupt Church official who sells indulgences, though apparently not authorized to do so. He’s thin, perpetually beardless and straw-haired, but apparently somewhat handsome. He carries around a shop’s worth of phony relics that are good for scamming innocent, hardworking people.
“Chaucer” then apologizes for any inconsistencies or errors (and for anything that might be ‘improper’) before talking about the Hoost (Host), the boisterously cheerful innkeeper, likely played by Brian Blessed or John Rhys-Davies. The host urges everyone to pass the time on the ride to Canterbury telling stories, because he proposes a contest that whoever tells the best story on the way there and back will get a free meal on him. He also swears to ride with them to Canterbury at his own expense as a guide, since he wants to hear them himself. The next morning, everybody rides out and the Knight wins the lottery to go first.
Impressions: Probably the part of the Tales most familiar to general audiences, Chaucer is playing around with social archetypes, poking and prodding in various places and in other playing the types pretty straight. They’re great medieval archetype portraits, and Geoff himself probably met representatives from all of those professions through the course of his various government positions. He’s subtly showing off how much he knows. Still, this is all only part of the framing device, and Chaucer uses it to show off a little.
What: The best known work written in Middle English and arguably the greatest showcase of all 3 social classes in Medieval England and a wide variety of story genres. Chaucer may have been showing off a little, but damn if he wasn’t good at what he did. Written throughout the course of his lifetime and unfinished at his death in 1400, it is the secular cultural high water mark of Medieval English literature. Yeah, its significant.
Why: Because something as important to English Literature is also something almost universally hated by High School English students for being damn long and the words look funny (it is, after all, written in Middle English). Also, I’m currently reading it for a graduate class, so I might as well make the most of it. Students should consider themselves lucky, since there are only 22 tales instead of the planned 124. (these are the same people who sigh in relief knowing that The Faerie Queene could’ve been longer too).
The (Spoiler Free) Basics: A large contingent of pilgrims set out from London to Canterbury in springtime and swap stories along the way. The stories range from pious morality tales to bawdy stories involving loud farting and kissing arse cheeks. And there’s a talking rooster in there too.
From here on there be spoilers….
General Prologue: Here Bygynneth The Book of the Tales of Caunterbury
Its Springtime in Soggy Ol’ England, when April showers usher in warm weather, sunshine and pilgrimage season. Canterbury, the place of St. Thomas a Becket’s martyrdom is the English site of choice to visit (since its much more convenient and safer than traveling to Jerusalem) and the roads are full of pilgrims.
The narrator, whom I’ll call “Chaucer” to differentiate from the actual Chaucer, stops off on his trip at the Tabard Inn in Southwerk, itching to get his pilgrimage on. At night, there are 29 fellow pilgrims there from all walks of life, and “Chaucer” being a thorough fellow, meets them all.
The Knyght (Knight) is described as a worthy fighting man, one who’s crusaded all over Europe in places like Egypt, Prussia, Russia, Spain, Asia Minor and so on. For all his credentials, he’s surprisingly modestly dressed for a knight, either a sign of his humility or illegitimate “knightly” status (depending on who’s theories you prefer).
The Squier (Squire) is the Knight’s son, a young man of 20 who dresses smart, can sing pretty well, and likes the ladies. A lot. He’s a dandy, but he’s also trained in war, having followed the Knight on his journeys.
The Yeman (Yeoman) is next, attendant to the Knight & Squire. A heavily armed professional soldier wearing green and carrying a bow, he’s also a forester and doesn’t seem to talk much. He’s likely a veteran Longbowman, commoners trained to shoot arrows with a high degree of skill in England (in contrast to continental bowmen who were considered crap troops, unlike continental crossbowmen, who were rather desirable in warfare. History rant over).
The Prioresse (Prioress) a friendly nun named Eglentyne. She’s from noble stock, likes dainty things, speaks French (but not Proper Parisian French), is concerned with manners and is very kind to her dogs. She’s much more a noblewoman than a nun, and her portrayal is subtle and complex. With her is another Nun, a Chaplain and 3 Priests.
The Monk, a “manly man” who liked riding, hunting and the manly arts more common in the upper classes. Also a big fan of eating. Its hinted that he’s not as chaste as he should be either. It seems he likes all of these things better than actually being in his cloister and doing monkly things. In fact, he’s not all that interested in following the Rule of St. Benedict, thinking that there’s not enough time set aside for hunting in it. Also, he owns his own hunting gear and wears fur-lined robes and wears supple leather boots, all of which he can’t own according to the Rule.
Hubert the Frere (Friar) a traveling mendicant who abuses his station, heard frequent confessions (more than a priest would normally hear), handed out easy penances in exchange for bribes and seduced countless women. He could sing bawdy ballads, frequented taverns and spoke with a slight lisp. Very clearly not a role model.
The Marchant (Merchant) has a forked beard, brightly dressed and sitting high on his horse. He’s all about looking rich and important, speaking loftily and generally being nuveau riche. He knows how to turn a tidy profit, which is technically illegal.
The Clerk of Oxenford (Oxford) is a university student working on his Masters, shabby and starving, just like his horse, he used his words carefully and had a fixation on his books. There’s a pun on Philosophy/alchemy in there about not being able to make any gold (ie., he’s poor)
The Sergeant Of The Lawe (Law), a legal counselor equivalent to a lawyer. He’s not as busy as he seems, knows the law in and out, and its hinted that he uses this knowledge to his financial advantage in legal matters.
With him is a Frankeleyn (Franklin), a sanguinary, epicurean landowner. He liked a good meal and would point it out on the cook if his sauces weren’t prepared right. An important man in his home community.
A couple working men; Haberdasshere (Haberdasher), Carpenter, Webbe (Weaver), Dyere (Dyer), and Tapycer (Tapestry-maker). All are clad in solemn clothes of some fraternity or guild. They’re not particularly interesting or important, but they have a servant with them that is.
The Cook is apparently a kitchen wizard and is quite skilled. A shame that he has a sore on his leg that had pus the same color as a blancmange, the implications of which are…unpleasant to think about.
The Shipman (Sailor) from Dertemouthe, a rough-and-tumble fellow armed with a dagger, heavily tanned and apparently something of an asshole. Stole some drinks from the cargo hold while on duty a couple times. A dangerous fellow who’s a dirty fighter and had blood on his hands (he’s drowned people he’s fought at sea instead of taking them prisoner), but also prudent in what he did. His ship was the Magdalen.
The Doctour of Phisik (Doctor of Physic), a skilled physician also obsessed with wacky old-age astrology. Well, a little more so than his peers would’ve been. Astrology was a legitimate part of science in those days (sort of like how alchemy and chemistry were joined at the hip for a long time).
The Wif of Bathe (Wife Of Bath), a middle-aged, partly deaf, well-to-do middle class woman who’s a pretty good seamstress to boot. Cheerful, lusty, redheaded, had pilgrimaged thrice to Jerusalem and has been married five times. Think “Medieval Lucille Ball” and work from there.
The Persoun of a Toun (Town Parson) is a modest, kindly, simple parish priest. Learned, but humble, he’s a good man and a good priest concerned with his parish and doesn’t like having people excommunicated.
The Plowman is the Parson’s brother (actually or spiritually), another good, simple, honest man.
The Miller is a big, bearded, boisterous fellow who likes crude jokes and has a short temper, is armed with a sword and buckler and has a fugly wart on his nose. He carried a set of bagpipes around and played them as the troupe left town. He’s rough, loud, annoying and highly entertaining.
The Maunciple (Manciple) is a servant of a law inn (legal firm, for lack of a better term). A shrewd buyer who knew how to buy low and sell high, which worked out well for him, since he worked for 30 lawyers. He is clearly smarter than all 30 of them.
The Reve (Reeve) is a choleric man, ill-tempered and a former carpenter. He’s an estate manager for a lord who’s done well (both for the lord and himself). The servants under him hate and fear him. He used to be a carpenter and is from “Northfolk” (Norfolk).
The Somonour (Summoner) is a disgusting human being. Lecherous, narrow-eyed, red faced and ugly enough to make children cry. Stinks of garlic, onions & leeks. A minor church official who’s job it was to summon people to ecclesiastical courts. He’s a slimy jerkass.
The Pardoner, his friend, is equally unsavory. A corrupt Church official who sells indulgences, though apparently not authorized to do so. He’s thin, perpetually beardless and straw-haired, but apparently somewhat handsome. He carries around a shop’s worth of phony relics that are good for scamming innocent, hardworking people.
“Chaucer” then apologizes for any inconsistencies or errors (and for anything that might be ‘improper’) before talking about the Hoost (Host), the boisterously cheerful innkeeper, likely played by Brian Blessed or John Rhys-Davies. The host urges everyone to pass the time on the ride to Canterbury telling stories, because he proposes a contest that whoever tells the best story on the way there and back will get a free meal on him. He also swears to ride with them to Canterbury at his own expense as a guide, since he wants to hear them himself. The next morning, everybody rides out and the Knight wins the lottery to go first.
Impressions: Probably the part of the Tales most familiar to general audiences, Chaucer is playing around with social archetypes, poking and prodding in various places and in other playing the types pretty straight. They’re great medieval archetype portraits, and Geoff himself probably met representatives from all of those professions through the course of his various government positions. He’s subtly showing off how much he knows. Still, this is all only part of the framing device, and Chaucer uses it to show off a little.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
François-Marie Arouet (Voltaire) - Candide, pt. 2
Chapter 16
The two ride into the jungle and see two girls chased by two monkeys. Thinking he’s saving them, Candide shoots the monkeys. Shocked and confused, he sees the girls mourn the monkeys. Cacambo tells him he’s killed their lovers. Feeling awkward and disgusted, Candide & Cacambo ride on and camp in the territory of the Oreillons, who capture them and plan on killing Candide, seeing as he’s dressed as a Jesuit. Cacambo talks their way out of it, saying that Candide killed a Jesuit, their common enemy, and they are granted passage through the territory.
Chapter 17
The two travelers head for Cayenne, travel down a river and find themselves in a land of fabulous riches. Children are playing with gold and gemstones. The two are given a hospitable welcome and taken to a place like a palace and are told they are in Eldorado, a hidden, enlightened utopia that has no use for material riches.
Chapter 18
An old man explains the nature of Eldorado, which is basically an enlightenment-era paradise where deism is the religion, everybody is carefree and protected by natural borders, but the locals (descendents of a branch of Incas) are forbidden from leaving. After a fun time in Eldorado, the king gives them leave to go and, rather amused, grants them twenty red pack sheep laden with gold and jewels, all of which are worthless in Eldorado.
Chapter 19
The two leave Eldorado, have a good first day of travel, but after that are beset by many disasters that kill off the sheep until only two are left, though both are still loaded with enough treasure to buy several kingdoms. They reach Surinam, a Dutch colony, and see a miserable slave outside of town with a foot and hand cut off, waiting for his master, Mynheer Vanderdendur. The two ride into town and meet a Spanish captain with news. Candide finds out Cunegonde is the favorite mistress of the Governor of Buenos Aires. Candide sends Cacambo to Buenos Aires to get Cunegonde & the old woman, then to meet Candide in Venice. Candide sticks around Surinam for a little while longer and meets Vanderdendur, who cheats him out of most of his money and the last two sheep and sails off without Candide. Candide despairs and books passage on a French ship bound for Bordeaux and puts out a call for a traveling companion. The winner of the search is Martin, a scholar heavily embittered by the world and, despite being a loyal companion to Candide, a total downer.
Chapter 20
On the voyage, Candide & Martin debate over the nature of Optimism vs. Cynicism, neither convincing the other. The ship witnesses a sea battle where a ship sinks. A red sheep swims up to Candide’s ship and is brought aboard. The sunken pirate ship was Vanderdendur’s and Candide recovers some of his treasure. He becomes hopeful that he’ll see Cunegonde again.
Chapter 21
Candide & Martin continue to debate and discuss France, Paris in particular. Martin tells him the country is basically a crazy place.
Chapter 22
They land at Bordeaux and Candide gives his last red sheep to the Academy of Science, which eagerly studied it. They go to Paris. Candide gets very sick and, being wealthy, lots of people tried to make him better (for money) and he got worse. He recovers, but loses a lot of money in the process (its okay, he’s got more). An abbe from Perigord shows them around Paris. They discuss the theater and art in general. The abbe takes him to the home of Mademoiselle Clairon, some kind of high class prostitute/noblewoman. After a fancy dinner and conversation, she takes Candide to the back and they get it on. Candide feels guilty about betraying Cunegonde. One morning in Paris, Candide receives a letter, ostensibly from Cunegonde, telling him she’s in Paris, sick and wants to see him. He rushes to the place and it’s a setup by the abbe, and Candide & Martin are arrested for some reason (something about rounding up foreigners) and Candide bribes the arresting officer to let them go. The two safely reach Normandy and set sail for England with the eventual goal of Venice.
Chapter 23
The ship reaches the coast of England where Candide witnesses the execution of an admiral for not killing enough people in battle (to encourage the other admirals). Horrified, Candide refuses to set foot on England and books passage from the captain to go directly to Venice.
Chapter 24
In Venice, Candide unsuccessfully looks for Cacambo, but runs into Paquette (from the Baron’s castle) and a Theatine monk. She relates her unhappy life as a prostitute and the monk, Brother Giroflee, explains how much he hates being a monk, having been forced into it by his family. Candide gives both a generous amount of money. Candide hears about a Venetian senator named Pococurante, a man rumored to never know sorrow or trouble, and puts in a request to see him.
Chapter 25
Candide & Martin visit Pococurante, an educated government official who is bored with everything he owns and is down on everything; women, art, music, the classics, everything. Martin likes him.
Chapter 26
Candide reunites with Cacambo, who tells him Cunegonde is not in Venice, but in Constantinople. Cacambo is now a slave in service to a master and tells them to follow him. Candide dines with six foreign kings, Sultan Ahmed III, Emperor Ivan of Russia, King Charles Edward of England, a king of Poland, a second king of Poland, and King Theodore of Corsica. All are deposed monarchs given leave to travel and in Venice for the Carnival season.
Chapter 27
Cacambo arranges with a Turkish captain to take his master, Ahmed III & Candide to Constantinople. Cacambo explains that Cunegonde is a slave for another deposed monarch and washing dishes for him and has lost her beauty. Candide sighs and reaffirms his duty to love her, regardless of beauty. Cacambo tells him that he secured Cunegonde’s freedom from the governor of Buenos Aires, but then they were robbed by a pirate captain and sold into slavery. Candide buys Cacambo’s freedom when they reach the Bosporus & sails for the Sea of Marmora. Candide finds among the rowers two who are strangely familiar. They are Dr. Pangloss and Cunegonde’s brother. He frees them and tells the captain to sail to Constantinople. He introduces the two to Cacambo & Martin. They reach Constantinople and set sail for Transylvania to rescue Cunegonde.
Chapter 28
Candide & The Baron make amends about the whole stabbing incident. The Baron says that he was cured of his wound, captured by Spaniards, was reassigned to Constantinople, where he was caught bathing with a handsome young Muslim, which was a serious crime, since he was Christian, and sentenced to the galleys. Pangloss explains that he was going to be burned after hanging, but it rained, so that had to be put off. An autopsy was begun on him, but he was very badly hung and was still alive and he woke up screaming on the table. Pangloss recovered and became a servant to a Venetian merchant and went to Constantinople. One day, Pangloss entered a mosque and tried to hit on a female worshipper. The “priest” there called for help and Pangloss was arrested and sentenced to the galleys. Despite all this, Pangloss still adheres to his original philosophy out of sheer stubbornness.
Chapter 29
They land on the shores of the Sea of Marmora, find the Prince of Transylvania and Candide sees Cunegonde, now ugly and worn. No longer desiring her, but still bound by his honor, they embrace and it’s a happy reunion for everyone, more or less. The Baron again refuses to give Candide Cunegonde’s hand in marriage.
Chapter 30
Despite not really wanting to marry Cunegonde, Candide still wants to go through with it because the Baron pissed him off with his refusal. Pangloss formulates an argument that the Baron has no rights over his sister. Martin wants to throw the Baron into the sea. Cacambo wants to return him to the galley captain he was freed from then sent back to the Jesuits. Cacambo’s plan is carried out quietly. Now married to Cunegonde, Candide and crew, now finally running low on money, settle down to a modest, largely miserable farm life. Paquette & Brother Giroflee arrive at the farm, poor of course, and are taken in. there is much philosophizing. Martin becomes a stoic, the old woman is irascible, Cacambo becomes a grumpy servant, Cunegonde keeps getting uglier, and Pangloss adheres to his philosophy without actually believing it anymore. Candide affirms nothing, only stressing that “we must cultivate our garden.” Eventually, they settle into their new lives and the farm turns out abundant crops in an intentionally listless ending.
Impressions
Candide laments Pangloss’ death in almost every chapter where he thinks Pangloss is dead (which is most of the book)
Martin is a total downer.
Cacambo and the old woman are both resourceful, intelligent sidekicks for their respective masters.. Until the downer ending.
Candide is a real twit, but that’s the point. He’s not even that nice of a guy, since he’s got an bloodthirsty stab reflex. He’s more naïve than nice.
Cunegonde is a human MacGuffin and about as bright as Candide. Still, his treatment of her at the end is pretty damn callow.
It’s a satire, so plot holes (such as people coming back from the dead over and over) aren’t really important. it’s a commentary on (mostly) European society, and the picture it paints is not a cheerful one. Its amusing dark satire, and it accomplishes its goal quite well. If it were a serious tale, then yeah, there's heaps of holes to point out (like Pangloss repeatedly coming back from the dead), but as a satire I can't help but think that all of those are intentional. Voltaire's good at what he does.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
François-Marie Arouet (Voltaire) - Candide pt. 1
What
No doubt you’ve heard of Voltaire (1694–1778), the great French Enlightenment Philosopher/Satirist. For most people, that’s all they know about François-Marie Arouet’s pen name. Candide, ou l'Optimisme, published in 1759, is one of his best known works. Voltaire himself was a brilliant thinker, writer, proponent of freedom, anglophile and an all-around think-for-yourself smartass. He’s the kind of guy that gets misinterpreted by later people, such as when people think of him as a strict atheist, when he was actually more of a deist, for example. The copy I’m working from is translated by Lowell Bair and first published in 1959, then again in 2003 by Bantam Classic.
Why
Because Voltaire was a huge literary figure in his own lifetime. He was a big deal known across the Western World. The novella itself is important because of its scathing criticisms of Leibnizian Optimism and Europe in the Age of Enlightenment, and it is ruthless in this mission.
The (Spoiler Free) Basics
Candide (pronounced “Kan-deed”), a young man raised in an idyllic manor, is brought up in an optimistic philosophy that is subsequently deconstructed through a brutal critique of European culture in Voltaire’s lifetime. Satire ensues.
From here on there be spoilers….
Chapter 1
A gentle lad by the name of Candide is raised in the pleasant castle of Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh in Westphalia. He is tutored in Optimism by Pangloss, a philosophy that teaches things like “since pigs were made to eat, we eat pork.” Candide becomes infatuated with the Baron’s daughter Cunegonde, and the two take a cue from Pangloss “giving a lesson” to a chambermaid in the bushes, deiced to “experiment” themselves. The Baron catches them in the act and Candide flees the estate.
Chapter 2
Candide wanders into a town with the ludicrously long name of Waldberghofftrarbkdikdorff, starving and penniless. Two men in uniform (soldiers) feed him, get him drunk and conscript him into the Bulgar army. After a brutal training regimen that nearly kills him, he begs for death when the King of the Bulgars rides up and pardons him and Candide is healed up just in time to go to war.
Chapter 3
After participating in a battle, Candide deserts from the Bulgar camp and flees through several villages that have been slaughtered in graphic detail. He meets a kind Anabaptist named James who helps him out, then meets a man racked with disease.
Chapter 4
The diseased man is Pangloss, Candide’s teacher, who reveals that Cunegonde and everyone else from the Baron’s castle was slaughtered in the war. Cunegonde herself was raped and stabbed. Pangloss also reveals that he is sick with VD from Paquette, the maid from the castle, who had contracted it from a Franciscan. James the Anabaptist pays for Pangloss’ treatment & hires him. The three sail to Lisbon, but get caught in a terrible storm
Chapter 5
James saves a sailor during the storm, who in turn doesn’t save the Anabaptist when James goes overboard and drowns. The ship sinks and only Candide, Pangloss and the sailor survive & wash ashore. They reach Lisbon, which has been devastated by earthquake. The sailor starts looting corpses and goes his merry way. Candide & Pangloss run afoul of an Inquisitor who arrests Pangloss for contradicting free will & Candide for listening to him.
Chapter 6
The leaders of Portugal, in the wake of the earthquake, hold an auto-da-fe (inquisition) & execute several people on rather petty charges, such as a Biscayan marrying the godmother of his godchild & two Portuguese who refused to eat pork (either Jewish or Muslim). Candide is flogged in public & Pangloss is hanged. An aftershock rocks the city. Candide is let go & meets an old woman who tells him to follow her.
Chapter 7
The old woman cares for Candide’s wounds. He heals and she takes him to Cunegonde, who is alive and living in Lisbon.
Chapter 8
Cunegonde tells Candide how she was raped, stabbed but survived thanks to a Bulgar captain. She eventually passed into the company of a lecherous Jew named Don Issachar, moved to Portugal & the Jew and the Inquisitor became rivals for Cunegonde’s affection, though she put out for neither. Don Issachar comes home.
Chapter 9
Candide runs the Jew through with a sword when Issachar becomes furious that another man is in the house. The Inquisitor walks in, sees the body, and Candide kills him too. The old woman tells them they must ride to Cadiz after looting the house for riches.
Chapter 10
They reach Cadiz and Candide joins the Spanish military as a captain after displaying his knowledge of the Bulgar Military Drills. They set sail for the New World.
Chapter 11
The Old Woman tells her story. She was a Pope’s daughter and an Italian princess. On a sea voyage, her ship was beset by pirates and the women were taken by Muslim corsairs and repeatedly raped. They landed in Morocco, finding it in a civil war. The woman’s mother is literally pulled apart by slavering, rapacious moors, but somehow she herself survived, but wound up in a pile of corpses. An Italian eunuch finds her.
Chapter 12
The Old Woman continues. The Italian, a Neapolitan, comforts her, but then takes her and sells her to the Dey of Algiers. She survives a plague, is sold in Tripoli and passed around the Mediterranean until she wound up in a Janissary company besieged by Russians. Facing starvation, the Janissaries cut off a buttock of each of the women for food, but the Russians break through soon after and slaughter them. A French surgeon tends her wounds and she soon floats around Eastern Europe doing menial jobs, never forgetting that she is a pope’s daughter.
Chapter 13
Candide laments Pangloss’ death (again) and the ship lands at Buenos Aires. The Governor, Don Fernando de Ibaraa, y Figueora, y Mascarenes, y Lamburdos, y Suza, lusts after Cunegonde and conspires against Candide, while assuring Candide that he will marry the two lovers. Agents from Spain land, looking for the murderer of the Inquisitor. Sadly, Candide is forced to flee from Buenos Aires and Cunegonde.
Chapter 14
Candide and a servant from Cadiz, Cacambo (a man of very mixed heritage) leave Cunegonde. Cacambo leads him to Paraguay and an independent Jesuit-ruled area at war with Spain. They meet the Reverend Father Provincial in charge of the camp, who turns out to be Cunegonde’s brother, thought dead. They chat cheerfully.
Chapter 15
The brother tells how he survived the sack of the castle and joined the Jesuits. Candide tells him of his intent to marry Cunegonde, which throws her brother into a rage and Candide kills him. Cacambo tells Candide to dress up like the Jesuit so they can escape the camp.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Thomas Kyd - The Spanish Tragedy, pt. 2
Part 2 of our look at the Spanish Tragedy. There's blood and spoilers ahead.
Act III, Scene 1
The Viceroy of Portugal is getting ready to execute Alexandro, binding him to a stake and everything when the Ambassador shows up with good news. Balthazar’s alive in the Spanish court and getting ready to get married. Alexandro is untied, apologized to and Viluppo is taken away as a traitor, having been served a hearty plate of justice. Sadly, his fate is off-stage.
Act III, Scene 2
Hieronimo mourns his son in a long (but very nice) speech when a letter falleth from the sky. Written in blood by Bel-imperia, who’s been locked up Rapunzel-style by Lorenzo, the letter tells Hieronimo all about the murder.
Lorenzo, suspecting that someone suspects arrives and pays Pedringano to kill Serebine (Balthazar’s servant. Oh, so that's who he is) because he’s probably ratting them out.
Act III, Scene 3
Pedringano loiters ominously at night, then shoots Serebine when he shows up. The night watch show up in record time to actually see the smoking gun in the killer’s hand and arrest Pedringano.
Act III, Scene 4
Lorenzo tells Balthazar that he thinks somebody sold them out to Hieronimo. A page arrives telling them that Serebine is dead and Pedringano arrested. Lorenzo assures Balthazar that Pedringano will die as well and that there’s nothing to worry about. A page then tells Lorenzo that Pedringano’s in jail and asking Lorenzo to bail him out. Lorenzo gives the page a box to take with him.
Act III, Scene 5
The page looks in the box (because he was told not too) and finds...NOTHING! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! The page comments that Pedringano is royally screwed if he thinks the pardon is in the box.
Act III, Scene 6
Hieronimo brings Pedringano before a gallows. Pedringano thinks the pardon is in the box the page brings. Black comedy ensues and Pedringano is hung.
Act III, Scene 7
Hieronimo broods over the death of Horatio when the hangman brings him a letter Pedringano had on him. The letter reaffirms Bel-imperia’s letter, and Hieronimo is PISSED.
Act III, Scene 8
Isabella, grieving for her son, “runs lunatic” as the stage directions say.
Act III, Scene 9
Bel-imperia is at a window. She is sad. That’s it.
Act III, Scene 10
Balthazar tries to court Bel-imperia again with predictable results. Bel-imperia blows him off, Lorenzo is mad at her, and Balthazar is sad that she doesn’t like him.
Act III, Scene 11
Hieronimo meets some Portuguese guys and pretends to act crazy in front of them. There is much laughing. (Shakespeare Shot)
Act III, Scene 12
Hieronimo broods some more (Shakespeare Shot) before continuing the crazy act in front of the King, Ambassador, Castile and Lorenzo. Lorenzo denies Hieronimo an audience with the King.
Act III, Scene 13
Hieronimo plots revenge then hears some legal cases.
Act III, Scene 14
The Viceroy of Portugal arrives at the King’s court. Everybody hugs. Balthazar keeps trying to woo Bel-imperia (who is very much against hugging him). Castile talks to Hieronimo, who pretends to reconcile with Lorenzo and Balthazar.
Act III, Scene 15 (Yes, FIFTEEN)
Don Andrea wakes up a sleeping Revenge (can you blame him? I mean, 15 scenes!!) and whines about how revenge isn’t about making buddies with the people that killed your son. Revenge tells him to wait and nods off again.
Act IV, Scene 1
Bel-imperia and Hieronimo scheme together then pretend to be nice to Lorenzo and Balthazar. Hieronimo asks them to star in a play for the King and Viceroy’s amusement. They agree and rehearse a little.
Act IV, Scene 2
Isabella, still crazy with grief, stabs herself to death.
Act IV, Scene 3
Hieronymus “knocks up the curtain” and prepares the stage for the rulers. Castile talks with him about the upcoming play.
Act IV, Scene 4
The court sits down for a nice evening of theater, and comment on how realistic it looked when Hieronimo stabbed Lorenzo and Bel-imperia stabbed Balthazar and herself. They quite literally “act out revenge.” Pretty good for amateur thespians. Hieronimo draws back a curtain revealing the dead (and likely smelly) Horatio, explains to the King everything leading up to the revenge, bites his own tongue out then stabs Castile and himself. (That’s…a whole bottle’s worth of Shakespeare borrowing right there).
Act IV, Scene 5
Don Andrea is pretty satisfied with the outcome. He and Revenge leave the stage to go and meet the newcomers to the underworld. The End.
Impressions
Pretty wild, when you look at it as a whole. Being an early Elizabethan play, there’s a lot of dead time, a lot of needlessly boring scenes and a couple other things that seem off (I mean Serebine shows up at the murder of Horatio for the sole purpose of being killed off later) and other things that get “ironed out” of later plays, but when Kyd gets down to business, he bloody well delivers. Stuff like the murder in the garden just punch the audience in the face and scream “pay attention!” Hell, the whole climax of the play with the “play-within-a-play” and the “everybody dies” ending was so damn effective that Shakespeare pretty much lifted it beat by beat and tossed it into his most highly regarded tragedy (with a few nods to Othello for good measure) This play was the moment in Elizabethan theater where audiences looked at each other and said “shit just got real.” Exactly like in Bad Boys 2.
Act III, Scene 1
The Viceroy of Portugal is getting ready to execute Alexandro, binding him to a stake and everything when the Ambassador shows up with good news. Balthazar’s alive in the Spanish court and getting ready to get married. Alexandro is untied, apologized to and Viluppo is taken away as a traitor, having been served a hearty plate of justice. Sadly, his fate is off-stage.
Act III, Scene 2
Hieronimo mourns his son in a long (but very nice) speech when a letter falleth from the sky. Written in blood by Bel-imperia, who’s been locked up Rapunzel-style by Lorenzo, the letter tells Hieronimo all about the murder.
Lorenzo, suspecting that someone suspects arrives and pays Pedringano to kill Serebine (Balthazar’s servant. Oh, so that's who he is) because he’s probably ratting them out.
Act III, Scene 3
Pedringano loiters ominously at night, then shoots Serebine when he shows up. The night watch show up in record time to actually see the smoking gun in the killer’s hand and arrest Pedringano.
Act III, Scene 4
Lorenzo tells Balthazar that he thinks somebody sold them out to Hieronimo. A page arrives telling them that Serebine is dead and Pedringano arrested. Lorenzo assures Balthazar that Pedringano will die as well and that there’s nothing to worry about. A page then tells Lorenzo that Pedringano’s in jail and asking Lorenzo to bail him out. Lorenzo gives the page a box to take with him.
Act III, Scene 5
The page looks in the box (because he was told not too) and finds...NOTHING! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! The page comments that Pedringano is royally screwed if he thinks the pardon is in the box.
Act III, Scene 6
Hieronimo brings Pedringano before a gallows. Pedringano thinks the pardon is in the box the page brings. Black comedy ensues and Pedringano is hung.
Act III, Scene 7
Hieronimo broods over the death of Horatio when the hangman brings him a letter Pedringano had on him. The letter reaffirms Bel-imperia’s letter, and Hieronimo is PISSED.
Act III, Scene 8
Isabella, grieving for her son, “runs lunatic” as the stage directions say.
Act III, Scene 9
Bel-imperia is at a window. She is sad. That’s it.
Act III, Scene 10
Balthazar tries to court Bel-imperia again with predictable results. Bel-imperia blows him off, Lorenzo is mad at her, and Balthazar is sad that she doesn’t like him.
Act III, Scene 11
Hieronimo meets some Portuguese guys and pretends to act crazy in front of them. There is much laughing. (Shakespeare Shot)
Act III, Scene 12
Hieronimo broods some more (Shakespeare Shot) before continuing the crazy act in front of the King, Ambassador, Castile and Lorenzo. Lorenzo denies Hieronimo an audience with the King.
Act III, Scene 13
Hieronimo plots revenge then hears some legal cases.
Act III, Scene 14
The Viceroy of Portugal arrives at the King’s court. Everybody hugs. Balthazar keeps trying to woo Bel-imperia (who is very much against hugging him). Castile talks to Hieronimo, who pretends to reconcile with Lorenzo and Balthazar.
Act III, Scene 15 (Yes, FIFTEEN)
Don Andrea wakes up a sleeping Revenge (can you blame him? I mean, 15 scenes!!) and whines about how revenge isn’t about making buddies with the people that killed your son. Revenge tells him to wait and nods off again.
Act IV, Scene 1
Bel-imperia and Hieronimo scheme together then pretend to be nice to Lorenzo and Balthazar. Hieronimo asks them to star in a play for the King and Viceroy’s amusement. They agree and rehearse a little.
Act IV, Scene 2
Isabella, still crazy with grief, stabs herself to death.
Act IV, Scene 3
Hieronymus “knocks up the curtain” and prepares the stage for the rulers. Castile talks with him about the upcoming play.
Act IV, Scene 4
The court sits down for a nice evening of theater, and comment on how realistic it looked when Hieronimo stabbed Lorenzo and Bel-imperia stabbed Balthazar and herself. They quite literally “act out revenge.” Pretty good for amateur thespians. Hieronimo draws back a curtain revealing the dead (and likely smelly) Horatio, explains to the King everything leading up to the revenge, bites his own tongue out then stabs Castile and himself. (That’s…a whole bottle’s worth of Shakespeare borrowing right there).
Act IV, Scene 5
Don Andrea is pretty satisfied with the outcome. He and Revenge leave the stage to go and meet the newcomers to the underworld. The End.
Impressions
Pretty wild, when you look at it as a whole. Being an early Elizabethan play, there’s a lot of dead time, a lot of needlessly boring scenes and a couple other things that seem off (I mean Serebine shows up at the murder of Horatio for the sole purpose of being killed off later) and other things that get “ironed out” of later plays, but when Kyd gets down to business, he bloody well delivers. Stuff like the murder in the garden just punch the audience in the face and scream “pay attention!” Hell, the whole climax of the play with the “play-within-a-play” and the “everybody dies” ending was so damn effective that Shakespeare pretty much lifted it beat by beat and tossed it into his most highly regarded tragedy (with a few nods to Othello for good measure) This play was the moment in Elizabethan theater where audiences looked at each other and said “shit just got real.” Exactly like in Bad Boys 2.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Thomas Kyd - The Spanish Tragedy, pt. 1
What
The Spanish Tragedie, Containing the lamentable end of Don Horatio, and Bel-imperia: with the pittifull death of olde Hieronimo (that's the full title)
The granddaddy of Elizabethan Revenge Tragedy that influenced pretty much all future/contemporary Elizabethan playwrights including Christopher Marlowe and William Shakespeare. Thomas Kyd (1558-1594) is something of a cipher to the modern world. The son of a London scrivener (a kind of pro writer who copied legal texts and whatnot), he was roomies with Elizabethan bad boy Christopher “Kit” Marlowe for a while, worked as an actor in Lord Strange’s Men (the most awesomely named acting company I’ve ever heard of), and was arrested and tortured in 1593 on charges of treason based on illegal books found in his & Kit’s flat, but released. Kit Marlowe was arrested too, but released with less hassle because of [insert conspiracy theory here]. He died the next year, so its quite possible he got worked over pretty hard. Aside from the Spanish Tragedy, the only other surviving thing that he wrote is a translation of a French play that is neither as famous or as important. He’s been attributed/rumored to have written various OTHER plays, especially something called the “Ur-Hamlet,” which was allegedly the play Shakespeare remade/looted for his own play (not Hamlet performed by cavemen, even though that would totally rule). He was not a 17th century pirate who left a still-undiscovered treasure buried somewhere in the Caribbean, that was somebody else.
Why
Kyd revolutionized the stage, quite simply. How he did this is by adapting elements from the recently rediscovered Sencan Tragedies (ancient Roman “closet drama” plays by Lucius Annaeus Seneca, the tutor of crazytoga emperor Nero) for the (then) modern stage. Basically, he kept the highfalutin speeches and graphic descriptions of violence while making sure the violence described wasn’t just off-stage. Audiences (particularly Elizabethans) love buckets of blood, and boy did he give it to them.
The (Spoiler Free) Basics
Bloody-minded revenge is the order of the day in the court of Spain as political maneuvering in a peace treaty with Portugal gets really, really ugly. Take a shot every time you spot something Shakespeare used, it’ll be fun.
From here on there be spoilers….
Act I, Scene 1
Don Andrea and Revenge step onstage. In a long Senecan speech (lots of high language monologuing) Andrea tells the audience that he died in battle, misses his fiancée Bel-imperia, went down to the underworld and was sent back up to earth with Revenge by Prosperine (queen of the underworld) to observe the revenge about to happen to his killers. Revenge tells him to sit down on stage and watch. A revenge-minded ghost, why I believe that’s our first shot.
Act I, Scene 2
The King of Spain enters and asks a general how things are going. Things are great! The Spanish army gave the Portuguese a jolly good thrashing. Don Andrea gave a good account of himself and contributed to the win, but too bad he died. Don Andrea’s buddy Horatio went and captured Prince Balthazar (who killed Andrea) directly leading to victory. The duke of Castile verbally high-fives his brother the King. Hieronimo, Horatio’s father and Marshal of Spain, is very proud.
Balthazar is brought before the King by Horatio (Shakespeare shot) and Lorenzo, the son of Castile. Both claim to have captured Balthy but its pretty clear Horatio did the real work. The King turns Balthy over to Lorenzo as hostage/guest and splits up the spoils between Lorenzo and Horatio.
Act I, Scene 3
The Viceroy (ruler) of Portingale (Portugal) is having a bad day. He lost the battle. The noble Alexandro tells him his son, Prince Balthazar, is still alive. Scheming bastard Viluppo says that not only is the Prince dead, but Alexandre shot him in the back. Alexandre is arrested and taken away.
Act I, Scene 4
Bel-imperia mourns the dead Don Andrea. Horatio tries to cheer her up, one thing leads to another and after Horatio leaves, Bel-imperia tells the audience that she will fall in love with Horatio to piss off Lorenzo, her brother.
Lorenzo and Balthazar arrive, the latter flirting ineffectively with the fiancée of the man he killed before the play (go figure). She leaves and Lorenzo assures him that she’ll come around.
Horatio comes back, followed by the King, a Portuguese ambassador and a whole banquet. Feasting ensues. Hieronimo organizes a play for their entertainment.
Act I, Scene 5
Don Andrea complains to Revenge about the distinct lack of revenging going on. Revenge tells him to cool his britches and wait.
Act II, Scene 1
Lorenzo continues to talk about hooking up his sister with Balthazar. Pedrigano, Bel-imperia’s servant enters and is threatened until he tells the two that she loves Horatio. Moustache-twirling and conspiratorial cackling ensues.
Act II, Scene 2
Horatio and Bel-imperia make lovey-dovey speeches to each other as Horatio, Balthazar and Pedrigano watch on, not happy at all.
Act II, Scene 3
Castile tells the King that Bel-imperia’s not too keen on a marriage with Balthazar but will probably come around in time, you know how women are old sport. The King tells the Ambassador to go back to Portugal with the news that the marriage will go forward and that her dowry will be HUGE.
Act II, Scene 4
Horatio and Bel-imperia continue to make kissy-faces at each other in a garden at night. SUDDENLY and without any subtlety whatsoever, Lorenzo, Balthazar, Pedringano and some guy named Serberine show up in disguises and lynch Horatio and then stab him before carrying off a screaming Bel-imperia.
Act II, Scene 5
A groggy Hieronimo enters his garden to discover the body of Horatio in a literal interpretation of Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit.” Isabella, his wife, enters and both bewail his death.
Act II, Scene 6
Don Andrea tells Revenge that the wrong guy just died. Revenge tells him to keep waiting.
Stay tuned for Part 2.
The Spanish Tragedie, Containing the lamentable end of Don Horatio, and Bel-imperia: with the pittifull death of olde Hieronimo (that's the full title)
The granddaddy of Elizabethan Revenge Tragedy that influenced pretty much all future/contemporary Elizabethan playwrights including Christopher Marlowe and William Shakespeare. Thomas Kyd (1558-1594) is something of a cipher to the modern world. The son of a London scrivener (a kind of pro writer who copied legal texts and whatnot), he was roomies with Elizabethan bad boy Christopher “Kit” Marlowe for a while, worked as an actor in Lord Strange’s Men (the most awesomely named acting company I’ve ever heard of), and was arrested and tortured in 1593 on charges of treason based on illegal books found in his & Kit’s flat, but released. Kit Marlowe was arrested too, but released with less hassle because of [insert conspiracy theory here]. He died the next year, so its quite possible he got worked over pretty hard. Aside from the Spanish Tragedy, the only other surviving thing that he wrote is a translation of a French play that is neither as famous or as important. He’s been attributed/rumored to have written various OTHER plays, especially something called the “Ur-Hamlet,” which was allegedly the play Shakespeare remade/looted for his own play (not Hamlet performed by cavemen, even though that would totally rule). He was not a 17th century pirate who left a still-undiscovered treasure buried somewhere in the Caribbean, that was somebody else.
Why
Kyd revolutionized the stage, quite simply. How he did this is by adapting elements from the recently rediscovered Sencan Tragedies (ancient Roman “closet drama” plays by Lucius Annaeus Seneca, the tutor of crazytoga emperor Nero) for the (then) modern stage. Basically, he kept the highfalutin speeches and graphic descriptions of violence while making sure the violence described wasn’t just off-stage. Audiences (particularly Elizabethans) love buckets of blood, and boy did he give it to them.
The (Spoiler Free) Basics
Bloody-minded revenge is the order of the day in the court of Spain as political maneuvering in a peace treaty with Portugal gets really, really ugly. Take a shot every time you spot something Shakespeare used, it’ll be fun.
From here on there be spoilers….
Act I, Scene 1
Don Andrea and Revenge step onstage. In a long Senecan speech (lots of high language monologuing) Andrea tells the audience that he died in battle, misses his fiancée Bel-imperia, went down to the underworld and was sent back up to earth with Revenge by Prosperine (queen of the underworld) to observe the revenge about to happen to his killers. Revenge tells him to sit down on stage and watch. A revenge-minded ghost, why I believe that’s our first shot.
Act I, Scene 2
The King of Spain enters and asks a general how things are going. Things are great! The Spanish army gave the Portuguese a jolly good thrashing. Don Andrea gave a good account of himself and contributed to the win, but too bad he died. Don Andrea’s buddy Horatio went and captured Prince Balthazar (who killed Andrea) directly leading to victory. The duke of Castile verbally high-fives his brother the King. Hieronimo, Horatio’s father and Marshal of Spain, is very proud.
Balthazar is brought before the King by Horatio (Shakespeare shot) and Lorenzo, the son of Castile. Both claim to have captured Balthy but its pretty clear Horatio did the real work. The King turns Balthy over to Lorenzo as hostage/guest and splits up the spoils between Lorenzo and Horatio.
Act I, Scene 3
The Viceroy (ruler) of Portingale (Portugal) is having a bad day. He lost the battle. The noble Alexandro tells him his son, Prince Balthazar, is still alive. Scheming bastard Viluppo says that not only is the Prince dead, but Alexandre shot him in the back. Alexandre is arrested and taken away.
Act I, Scene 4
Bel-imperia mourns the dead Don Andrea. Horatio tries to cheer her up, one thing leads to another and after Horatio leaves, Bel-imperia tells the audience that she will fall in love with Horatio to piss off Lorenzo, her brother.
Lorenzo and Balthazar arrive, the latter flirting ineffectively with the fiancée of the man he killed before the play (go figure). She leaves and Lorenzo assures him that she’ll come around.
Horatio comes back, followed by the King, a Portuguese ambassador and a whole banquet. Feasting ensues. Hieronimo organizes a play for their entertainment.
Act I, Scene 5
Don Andrea complains to Revenge about the distinct lack of revenging going on. Revenge tells him to cool his britches and wait.
Act II, Scene 1
Lorenzo continues to talk about hooking up his sister with Balthazar. Pedrigano, Bel-imperia’s servant enters and is threatened until he tells the two that she loves Horatio. Moustache-twirling and conspiratorial cackling ensues.
Act II, Scene 2
Horatio and Bel-imperia make lovey-dovey speeches to each other as Horatio, Balthazar and Pedrigano watch on, not happy at all.
Act II, Scene 3
Castile tells the King that Bel-imperia’s not too keen on a marriage with Balthazar but will probably come around in time, you know how women are old sport. The King tells the Ambassador to go back to Portugal with the news that the marriage will go forward and that her dowry will be HUGE.
Act II, Scene 4
Horatio and Bel-imperia continue to make kissy-faces at each other in a garden at night. SUDDENLY and without any subtlety whatsoever, Lorenzo, Balthazar, Pedringano and some guy named Serberine show up in disguises and lynch Horatio and then stab him before carrying off a screaming Bel-imperia.
Act II, Scene 5
A groggy Hieronimo enters his garden to discover the body of Horatio in a literal interpretation of Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit.” Isabella, his wife, enters and both bewail his death.
Act II, Scene 6
Don Andrea tells Revenge that the wrong guy just died. Revenge tells him to keep waiting.
Stay tuned for Part 2.
Introducing Acrimonius Annotations
Hello and welcome, I'm Kestifer, esrtwhile writer/grad student/adventurer, and none of that matters here in internet land.
This little project sprang from a couple inspirations. 1. I read a lot. A LOT. For school, for pleasure, for personal enrichment. So much so that I can’t begin to remember every little detail of everything. 2. I made a study guide for Thomas Kyd’s The Spanish Tragedy which did a good job of summarizing the plot, characters and so on. So good, in fact, that I wanted to write more of those summaries for myself so that I’d be able to look back on them in the future instead of reading through the play again if I didn’t want to.
So that brings us here. I’ve decided to continue those study guides. Spoiler filled recaps, reactions and highlights of action, dialogue and author-message. A kind of bare bones plot & character guide with a dose of humor and sarcasm. If I find something that makes me throw the book against a wall, it will be mentioned.
If you haven’t read the books themselves, you’re doing yourself a disservice in reading this, because it’ll be full of spoilers. You’re not my audience. These are intended for people with at least some High School level of education or higher. Just because I'm infantile doesn't mean I'm going to dumb things down for you. Also, the more familiar you are with www.tvtropes.org the better.
Don’t think that this’ll be a good way of getting out of reading the actual stuff for class, because the analysis herein will not be in-depth. Its meant to be a refresher for people who actually HAVE read it in the first place and maybe forgot the details over the years. At best, it should provide some kind of context for when you're reading and confused by old timey words and or make things interesting/amusing. At worst, you'll be able to physically see my agony as I struggle through a book that makes me want to sign up with the Firemen of Fahrenheit 451. Either way, here's hoping its amusing.
The working title for the project was originally going to be called “Snark Notes,” but I was never very thrilled with it for a couple reasons. First, while it may seem clever at first glance and does convey the basic tongue-in-cheek gist of the matter, I don’t want to be getting sideways glances from the folks over at SparkNotes. I’m just sayin.’ Second, that title made me feel derivative and pretentious in an uncreative way. Change one letter and “dur-hur-hur, ain’t I clever?” So "Acrimonious Annotations" is what I settled on after cruising some thesaurus/dictionary sites for sarcasm. Now “acrimonious” is a word to get legitimately pretentious about!
Be aware (as though it hasn’t been abundantly implied), there WILL be spoilers. With that thought, on with the show.
This little project sprang from a couple inspirations. 1. I read a lot. A LOT. For school, for pleasure, for personal enrichment. So much so that I can’t begin to remember every little detail of everything. 2. I made a study guide for Thomas Kyd’s The Spanish Tragedy which did a good job of summarizing the plot, characters and so on. So good, in fact, that I wanted to write more of those summaries for myself so that I’d be able to look back on them in the future instead of reading through the play again if I didn’t want to.
So that brings us here. I’ve decided to continue those study guides. Spoiler filled recaps, reactions and highlights of action, dialogue and author-message. A kind of bare bones plot & character guide with a dose of humor and sarcasm. If I find something that makes me throw the book against a wall, it will be mentioned.
If you haven’t read the books themselves, you’re doing yourself a disservice in reading this, because it’ll be full of spoilers. You’re not my audience. These are intended for people with at least some High School level of education or higher. Just because I'm infantile doesn't mean I'm going to dumb things down for you. Also, the more familiar you are with www.tvtropes.org the better.
Don’t think that this’ll be a good way of getting out of reading the actual stuff for class, because the analysis herein will not be in-depth. Its meant to be a refresher for people who actually HAVE read it in the first place and maybe forgot the details over the years. At best, it should provide some kind of context for when you're reading and confused by old timey words and or make things interesting/amusing. At worst, you'll be able to physically see my agony as I struggle through a book that makes me want to sign up with the Firemen of Fahrenheit 451. Either way, here's hoping its amusing.
The working title for the project was originally going to be called “Snark Notes,” but I was never very thrilled with it for a couple reasons. First, while it may seem clever at first glance and does convey the basic tongue-in-cheek gist of the matter, I don’t want to be getting sideways glances from the folks over at SparkNotes. I’m just sayin.’ Second, that title made me feel derivative and pretentious in an uncreative way. Change one letter and “dur-hur-hur, ain’t I clever?” So "Acrimonious Annotations" is what I settled on after cruising some thesaurus/dictionary sites for sarcasm. Now “acrimonious” is a word to get legitimately pretentious about!
Be aware (as though it hasn’t been abundantly implied), there WILL be spoilers. With that thought, on with the show.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)