more than 95 theses: a likely story

Below, Alan Jacobs writes movingly and compellingly about the anti-Shakespeareans’ misunderstanding about what defines Shakespeare. It’s lovely, really, his short essay here.

I need to correct only one thing. Jacobs describes the shocking twist/climax at the end of The Winter’s Tale, and he asks “is there a moment in theater more complexly glorious than this?” It is wonderful, that scene, and I presume the complexity he mentions is that the mother-father-daughter triad on stage are an incomplete family, because the boy, Mamillius, is still dead. I always mourn a little when productions skip over this, as if the death of the prince that was so significant earlier in the play is now utterly forgotten. It isn’t forgotten, and Mamillius’ absence is what gives the scene such depth.

But there is an even greater scene. In Measure for Measure, the nun-novice Isabella has had a rough go of things. Her brother and de facto sister-in-law are imprisoned for inappropriate sex, and her pleas for clemency on his behalf have been met with a sexual proposition in turn. Angelo, the surrogate duke and unequivocal voice of authority has told her that she must either submit to him, else her brother will surely die.

After an always-improbably-successful bed trick, Angelo reneges on his promise and accelerates Isabella’s brother’s death.

Later, nearly everything has been revealed. Angelo has been exposed for the debased, craven rat that he is, and the now-returned Duke has sentenced Angelo to death for his behavior. Angelo’s wife, Mariana, begs for his life, but the Duke is unmoved.

And here comes the powerful part. Mariana turns to Isabella and asks for her help. She asks Isabella, the victim of unsuccessful rape, Isabella whose brother has been murdered by Angelo, Isabella who was forced to choose between her eternal salvation and her brother’s mortal life, Isabella gets down on her knees and begs for the life of Angelo. For Angelo, who (she thinks) murdered her brother. Angelo who (imagined he) raped her. She is an archetype for victimhood, and yet she is also a model of Christian forgiveness, because she gets on her knees and begs for his life.

It is subtle, I think, and most of the time I need to explain to students just how much Isabella has to set aside before she kneels down. It is not a role I would be anxious to perform on stage, that’s for sure.

To Jacobs’ point: what about this powerful example of perfect forgiveness would require a noble background? What background could conceivably help reach this depth of emotion? There is, of course, no background that makes it more or less likely. Anyone, from any background, can understand despair and victimization and forgiveness.

ayjay:

“Is it likely,” the anti-Stratfordians often say, “that these greatest of plays could be written by a half-educated glover’s son from the provinces?” To which one plausible answer is, “More likely than their being written by a known hack like the Earl of Oxford.” But a better answer is: Of…