Tue Sorensen
Me:
Hey there,
My name is Chris, i'm a college student studying
Shakespeare. One of the recent plays i studied was Much Ado. Hence
i watched Kenneth's adaptation and subsequently your review.
I really appreciated your review of Kenneth's Much
ado about Nothing.
Shakespeare all throughout his plays deals with vast
contrast, wither it is between scenes, number of actors on stage at a time,
seasons, or even through foils. There is a defined power in providing
contrast. I'm with you i really feel that it added a whole new color to
the rest of the characters and the movie. It augmented this idea of much
ado because compared to him the world is drunk on the clouds.
Thanks,
Christopher Morgan
Tue:
Thanks, Chris! Always happy to hear from a fellow
Shakespeare appreciator! If you like, you can check out theshakespearestandard.com, where
I write a multimedia news column on a fortnightly basis.
Here are a few of my past posts:
All the best,
- Tue Sorensen (sarastro7)
Me:
I will be reading King Lear here in the next month and will
be viewing the Tempest this week end. I look forward to adding my
thoughts to your comments on these. Thanks for this link!
Ps any thing that you would suggest to look for, any particular themes or interpretations, extra...
Ps any thing that you would suggest to look for, any particular themes or interpretations, extra...
Tue:
Sure, I can give you a few pointers on Lear. Below are some
assisting remarks I wrote to a Shakespeare teacher a while back, in response to
a query (reproduced after the next paragraph):
The
essence of King Lear, in my view, and which makes it a twin play
to Macbeth, is that, while Macbeth (the character) is distorted reason
(he rationalizes without moderation), Lear is distorted emotion (he
doesn't understand the developments that take place around him, which
confuses him to the point of desperation). What I mean by that is that, by
this perspective, the character of Lear specifically represents distorted
emotion, one of the consequences of which is that he lacks the rational
attitude to be open to education (in contrast, his daughters represent
reason, but of a loveless kind). Lear's tragedy, to a large extent, is his
inability to understand what is going on, although several characters,
incl. Gloucester, attempt to explain it to him. If we are consistent in
seeing Lear as distorted emotion, then his death is not a tragedy in
itself, but the end of tragedy; the end of distorted emotion. I like this
view myself, because it indicates that Kent, the Fool, Gloucester, etc.
were successful in the end, in their endeavor to make Lear understand the
situation. Gradually, in the final scene with the dead Cordelia, Lear's
madness subsides and his death signifies that the distortions, the
confusion, the despair are gone. As far as I am concerned, the end is
therefore not a disaster but the establishing of a new and much improved
order; Edgar's rule. It is therefore very much possible to see the play as
a continuing and ultimately successful
attempt at educating Lear.
Comment from previous Question replicated:
Question:
I’m
doing some research on pedagogy in King Lear. Basically, the topic is ‘The
world of King Lear contains many apt pupils but few if any competent teachers.’
I wish to discuss the various efforts to teach or to learn lessons, morals,
etc. in the play, and in the process, discuss Lear and a few other characters.
I hope you can help me out with ideas for this topic. If you can give me
textual references to any ideas you have, it would help a lot! Anything
regarding teaching and competency or lack thereof, in the play, regarding
characters. Thank you in advance!
L.
Answer:
Hi
L,
Interesting
(and extensive) question. I agree that the play seems to consist of
several apt pupils but few competent teachers. Whether this is so on a deeper
level may be more doubtful. Clearly, Edgar is a good teacher when he leads the
blind Gloucester (a very pivotal scene), and other good points of a similar
nature may be extracted by a close reading. This of course depends on the depth
of the allegorical reading you opt for. It is possible to argue that both Kent
and the Fool, out of loyalty, do their best to teach Lear, and because he is
unable to learn they both need to teach him through non-literal means (disguise
and symbolism).
>
I am interested in your idea about Edgar being a
>
good teacher to Gloucester in the cliff scene, could you elaborate more on
>
why he would be a good teacher in that scene? Because I thought you could
>
also read that as being a bad teacher, because he is confusing Gloucester. So
>
an explanation of that would be helpful.
It
is true that Edgar is confusing Gloucester, but this is for Gloucester's own
good, to give him a renewed interest in life, and keep him from committing
suicide. Edgar is naturally motivated by his affection for his father.
The
reason that I find the Edgar/Gloucester/cliff scene so significant is that I
relate it to a passage in Hamlet. We have the Player King saying "For it
is left us yet to prove, If love leads Fortune, or else Fortune love." The
theme of Fortune, it seems to me, is what King Lear revolves around; it and its
wheel are alluded to countless times, and the word "Fortune" or
"fortunes" is mentioned more times than in any other Shakespeare
play. To me, Edgar's leading of the blind Gloucester *is* love leading Fortune.
My favorite reading of Shakespeare is allegorical, and I see Gloucester as a
personification of Fortune (who is blind) and his sons, Edgar and Edmund (the
latter of which is a bastard begot from adultery, for, as we know from Hamlet,
Fortune is a strumpet), as basic personifications of love and hate,
respectively. Since love succeeds in leading Fortune, the play is not at all
the tragedy it pretends to be (which is very typical of Shakespeare: on
thorough investigation, things often turn out to be just the opposite of what
they seem). This also applies to gender, which is a very interesting
Shakespearean topic. Fortune is traditionally female, but Gloucester is male -
which echoes the cross-dressing comedies.
>
Finally, I'm interested in specific textual examples of when the Fool and
>
Kent teach, and where it is effective, versus where it is not.
Act
1, scene 4, lines 113-179. The Fool attempts to teach Lear a speech advocating
the wisdom of virtuous living. Lear does not understand, and the Fool asks Kent
to explain it, since Lear "will not believe a fool". When the Fool
presses the point by saying that Lear was a fool to give away his power, Kent
concurs with the Fool's assessment, "This is not altogether fool, my
lord" (line 144). Over the next 35 lines, the Fool develops his ridiculing
of Lear and his foolishness, but Lear doesn't get it. His comments, "When
were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?" and "An you lie,
sirrah, we'll have you whipped" - which is to say, his lack of comment on
the substance of the Fool's critique -, demonstrate that it is only the most
immediate and superficial part of the Fool's words that stands out to him.
Act
1, scene 5, lines 8-45. The Fool berates Lear on his behavior towards his
daughters. At first, Lear doesn't understand, but laughs at a comment about his
being brainless in setting off to see Regan (the Arden edition's
interpretation, undoubtedly correct, of lines 8-12), but by line 24, Lear has
understood the thinly veiled critiques coming from the Fool, and is suddenly
(one imagines that Lear pauses for a while, realizing what the Fool is saying,
and then sadly and regretfully delivers line 24 - speaking directly of that which
the Fool speaks indirectly -, "I did her wrong", remembering
Cordelia) aware of the real implications of the Fool's hints. The Fool goes on
to say that he wishes that Lear had the wisdom to accompany his old age, which
Lear instantly understands, praying to heaven that he is not mad (in the
process forgetting the Fool's insolence). Lear's awareness of the Fool's
intimations, however, does not quite crystallize into the appropriate action;
Lear still cannot believe that Regan will not welcome him, and so he represses
this feeling and goes to see her even though he now vaguely suspects her
betrayal.
Act
2, scene 2, lines 69-88. Kent explains to Cornwall why he hates Oswald.
"Such smiling rogues as these [...] smooth every passion that in the
natures of their lords rebel, bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods,
[...] knowing naught, like dogs, but following." Kent explains that Oswald
is a yes-man who not only agrees with but intensifies whichever whim or thought
his masters get. Oswald fuels both fire and cold as the case may be, making his
masters blow their notions out of proportion through unrestrained
rationalization. Cornwall, of course, does not understand a word Kent's saying,
and when next he asks the same question, Kent gives up trying to explain, and
simply sighs, reducing his reasons to a level nearer to that of Cornwall's
intellect, "His countenance likes me not."
Act
2, scene 2, lines 254-276 (in some editions, this is called Act 2, scene 4, in
which case it is lines 62-84). The Fool suggests that Kent should be set
"to school to an ant, to teach thee there's no labouring i'the
winter," etc. "Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill
lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes upward, let
him draw thee after." This, and the following lines, is very complex
stuff, and relates again to the ups and downs of fortune, and how one must work
in the manner one's fortunes allow (quite as the Fool informs Kent in Act 1,
scene 4, lines 99-100: "an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou'lt
catch cold shortly"), making the best of it when the climate is favorable,
and not waste one's labour when the climate is unfavorable. Hereupon, Kent
simply says, "Where learned you this, fool?", which may or may not
mean that Kent knew it already. The words that Kent and the Fool exchange are
always pregnant with meaning.
Act
3, scene 2, lines 74-78. The Fool recites the lines of a song, explaining to
Lear that men of wit should not take things for granted; we should cherish the
positive sides of the situation we find ourselves in ("Must make content
with his fortunes fit"). Arden explains the line as "must make his
[Lear's] happiness conform to his fortunes". A variation on "seize
the day". Lear replies, "True, my good boy."
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