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Showing posts with label Bard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bard. Show all posts

Friday, 24 October 2014

The Narrative Poems, by William Shakespeare, Reviewed.

I always feel nervous commenting on the works of the Bard. After all, as England’s foremost dramatist, he has one hell of a reputation. Part of my anxiety stems from simple ignorance: a lack of knowledge of the times in which he wrote, and large holes in my understanding of the vocabulary he used. It is easy to misunderstand or misinterpret his work.

All the same, as a modern reader of a classic work, I have a voice and an opinion. I hope readers of my reviews understand that they are personal and only as informed as those of most readers who also write.

So, to The Narrative Poems: this volume contains, Venus and Adonis, The Rape of Lucrece, and The Phoenix and Turtle. I read the Penguin Shakespeare edition, so there are some notes, an introduction and an epilogue to guide readers.


There is no doubt that Shakespeare was a superb poet. But these are works very much of their time, in spite of their reputation as classics. Classics, because they use language in an evocative and engaging way. Of their time, because they are rather more wordy than a modern reader would generally prefer. Although it takes the author several verses to say what modern writers would say in one, the manner of the exposition is so brilliant that wordiness is more easily forgiven. That said, there were short passages I skipped because they seemed superfluous.

Pierre-Paul Prud'hon's Venus and Adonis, Walla...
Pierre-Paul Prud'hon's Venus and Adonis, Wallace Collection, London (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Venus and Adonis retells an ancient myth in the typical style of the poet and does so very well, of course. The Rape of Lucrece again tackles an old story, but what is most noticeable about this one is its extremely moral stance. At the time of the Bard, women were routinely ‘owned’ and abused, yet the language of this work expresses such disgust over the actions of the rapist, Tarquin, and such empathy with the victim, Lucrece, that it might have been written by a modern man. The Phoenix and Turtle, however, is all but incomprehensible without a translation or some reference to the original work from which it is undoubtedly derived.


Did I enjoy the read? Yes. Was some of it hard work? Yes. Did it put me off reading more of Shakespeare? No. Scholars and those acquainted with his works, will need no input from me. Those less familiar with the work of the Bard should find this slim volume worth their time. I suggest you have a read.

Monday, 15 April 2013

Coriolanus, by William Shakespeare, Reviewed.


Ah, the Bard. I’m gradually sifting through his works, reading for the sheer pleasure of his language. Coriolanus is one of his tragedies, of course. That it’s been recently filmed, (not that I’ve seen the movie) is a surprise only in that it’s a play begging to be made into a film. With the violence, treachery, wonderfully flawed hero and the battle scenes, it’s a plot made for Hollywood.

The tragedy of the eponymous hero is his combination of social pride and an inability to understand the different qualities required for the General in battle and the Consul as politician. The text is perhaps more crammed than usual with contemporary references and terms that need a scholar to interpret them for the common reader of today, so that there are subtleties I’m sure I’ve either missed or misinterpreted. But I believe I gleaned the important matter of the plot.

Coriolanus, bas relief
Coriolanus, bas relief (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Not a play to be enjoyed, of course. But certainly one that informs and enlightens regarding the human condition. It’s particularly encouraging that it is the women who finally resolve the situation and prevent the ultimate tragedy for Rome itself, even if not for Coriolanus.

A play I’d like to see performed and, as I’m unlikely to find a stage performance in the near future, I can at least arrange to see the film. And I will. As a study of human failing and success, and a description of the fickleness of loyalty and its opposite extreme it packs a powerful punch. If you haven’t read it, I suggest you give it a try.

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Thursday, 29 November 2012

The Comedy of Errors, by William Shakespeare, Reviewed


Heresy! Infamy! Thou darest malign the Bard?

The Comedy of Errors appears to be based on a premise that I found impossible to swallow, for two simple reasons. First; why would the twins, both sets, not have been named prior to their separation and therefore have different names? It seems unlikely that these infants were so young as to have been denied such a basic ceremony as naming. Secondly, and perhaps more to the point, why were both sets of twins dressed identically, bearing exact copies of the same hairstyle, using the same manner of speech? So identical, in fact, that they could not be separated by the intimate servants or, in the case of Antipholus of Ephasus, by his wife and her sister. One was raised in Syracuse, a town in Sicily, with, admittedly, Greek influence. And the other in Ephasus, in Turkey, again, with Greek influence. However, the manner of speech in these two widely distant provinces would undoubtedly have been equally wide. Manner of dress, customs, mannerisms etc would all have been very varied, and Shakespeare would have been aware of such regional differences from his exposure to such during his everyday life in England.

A farce, and this play is definitely a farce, requires the audience to suspend their disbelief in order to appreciate the confusions caused by the plot. I found I was unable to suspend my incredulity to the extent necessary to enjoy this piece of comic drama.

I’m an admirer of our national Bard; what writer of English could fail to prize the literary skills of this world renowned wordsmith? But I couldn’t push past what quickly became an insuperable barrier to my enjoyment. This impediment was further reinforced by the poor quality of the poetry of the piece. We’re all used to the subtlety, variety, cleverly composed and richly metaphorical nature of Shakespeare’s dialogue. But in this, one of his earlier plays, he seems not to have quite got the hang of things. The language is unnecessarily convoluted, as if he’s more concerned with impressing the audience than with conveying his meaning. The usual contemporary references aside, I found the meaning often difficult to determine because of the structure of the sentences and the employment of obtuse metaphors. I accept, when reading Shakespeare, that some of the language’s more subtle meanings will be lost on me: I’m not a scholar of the period and I lack the time to delve into references that require lengthy searches to unpick. But, in this play, I felt the playwright was more concerned with fireworks than with substance. Also, although I’ve never seen a production, I very quickly knew the outcome, since this was flagged too clearly in the first act.

So, not the best of his work, but, hell, it’s Shakespeare, so it must be good, yes? 

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To my regular readers, my apologies for the lack of a piece on writing today. My ME/CFS has returned and it limits my energy and creativity. I'll try to get back to normal next week. Thank you for your patience.

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Monday, 25 June 2012

As You Like It, By William Shakespeare, Reviewed.


The cheek of it! Reviewing anything by the Bard? Are you mad? Well, I can have an opinion, and here it is.

Almost everything that can be said about this play has already been said. I have never seen it performed but the text is as a good a read as any of the Bard’s work. It is, of course, a comedy, though it illustrates quite well how different the concept of comedy has become as the ages pass. In Shakespeare’s day, of course, it merely meant a piece of drama with a happy ending. And, for most of the characters in this work, the ending is happy. The reader, or playgoer, is required to suspend disbelief in a fairly extreme way for a couple of incidents. The conversions of Oliver and Frederick take some believing, considering the depths of their hatreds, but it’s all taken in good spirit. And, though the poet has messages to purvey, he has made this an entertainment before it is anything else.

There is great play made of the gender bending and, of course, since men played all the parts, the double entendres are many. A large number of songs appear in this play, more than I’ve come across previously and they sometimes appear to be no more than padding. What? Accusing the Bard of padding? Well, that’s the way they seemed to me. As did one or two of the smaller scenes, which appeared to have no bearing on the plot at all.

But I’m not complaining, merely pointing out those features that struck me whilst reading. I enjoyed the language (who can fail to do so?) of course. The characters were diverse and entertaining, even if a little thinly drawn on occasion.

Would I now go to see a performance? You bet.

And will I read more Shakespeare? Try to stop me. 

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Friday, 17 February 2012

All's Well That Ends Well, by Will Shakespeare, Reviewed

Sir John Gilbert's 1849 painting: The Plays of...
Image via Wikipedia

How do you go about reviewing a work that must have been described, analysed and generally pulled apart by thousands of readers, writers, scholars and professional reviewers? Well, as I see it, the only thing to do is give a very personal opinion.

Shakespeare is, of course, our national bard, our cultural hero, if we write in English. So, the reviewer better beware if he says anything untoward. But I set myself a target and I'm determined to hit it. The target? As a writer, to read and review at least 52 books this year, all taken from my 'to read' list'. So, you have my motivation.

I have yet to read most of the Bard's work. What I've so far managed has been very good. But I can't say that for All's Well That Ends Well. It reads like an apprentice piece, almost as if it was written by a different author, in fact.

In common with much of his work, Shakespeare took the original plot from Boccaccio's Decameron and embellished it with his own characters and additions. But, for me, he hasn't done his usual magic here. I found much of the text tedious. There was little that made me laugh and a great deal that felt like unnecessary complication. In fact, the play, for me, would have worked much better without a number of the scenes; some of which seemed to have no bearing on the story at all.

Of course, the language is brilliant most of the time, of course the characters are written with the usual sureness of style and genius. But the whole doesn't quite add up to the parts in this one. Naturally, there is the ever present problem for a modern reader that certain references no longer have the meaning they did for the contemporary audience and this means that some of the jokes fall flat. Some of the words used have not been included in the staggering total of new words that Will added to our language and context is then the only clue to their meaning.

I was able to follow the story, the plot, relatively easily. But some of the characters failed to display the qualities they were reported to carry by their fellows. So, I could see no evidence, until the scene where he is hooded and tricked, of Parolles' reported wickedness. He came across as no more a villain than others in the play. Even his diatribe against Lafeu seemed relatively justified in light of the Old Lord's treatment of him. And it was difficult to understand Helena's infatuation for the superficial, opportunist and selfish Bertram.

So, not a play I'm likely to go out of my way to watch, though it's my personal experience that Shakespeare always comes alive when performed, especially by a good ensemble cast. I'm sorry if I've offended or upset the lovers of our national poet, amongst which I count myself, but this one was a disappointment.

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