"First time in thirty-five years we were just about free and clear. He only needed a little salary. He was even finished with the dentist" (Death of a Salesman, 1629).
I didn't know you could use the word "requiem" in this kind of context. It makes me think of that "Pie Jesu" song that everybody sings everywhere all the time if you're Catholic. I think of a "requiem" as a song for the dead, so it's a cool way to title the little epilogue.
The principle irony I found in the Requiem was that Laura paid off the house right around the same time that Willy died. Had he not committed suicide, their monthly payments would have decreased, and he would not have needed to provide as much money as before. Seriously -- way to choose an optimal time to die, Willy.
And then we have Biff and Happy still arguing over their father's grave. Biff says, "[Willy] had all the wrong dreams," while Happy argues, "He had a good dream. It's the only dream you can have -- to come out number-one man. He fought it out here and this is where I'm gonna win it for him" (1629-30). Biff's attitude is pretty harsh -- especially when they're talking in front of Willy's tombstone. However, Biff seems to have a better understanding of Willy's unrealistic ideals than Happy does. This indicates to me that Biff is a more dynamic character than Happy -- Biff catches on to the idea that perhaps the Lomans are not meant to be salesman after all.
Showing posts with label drama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drama. Show all posts
Monday, March 5, 2012
The Volume of a Region Rotated About an Axis
"Tell you a secret, boys. Don't breathe it to a soul. Someday I'll have my own business, and I'll never have to leave home any more" (Death of a Salesman, 1559).
Coughdramaticironycough.
Do I think that Willy is a tragic hero? My first thought is that no, I don't think that Willy exemplifies any of the characteristics of dramatic heroes. In fact, his flaws are so easy to point out that it makes me feel really sorry for him -- so I'll start there.
In our small group discussion, some people said that Willy's tragic flaw was his idealism, and others said it was his pride. I say, why can't it be a combination? My quote for this blog post is a good example of his extreme idealism -- idealism that never actually pulls through in the end. But it comes right after an interesting conversation Willy was having with young Biff -- "If somebody else took that ball there'd be an uproar," says Willy (1558). Later he says, "You take me, for instance. I never have to wait in line to see a buyer" (1561). Aside from the fact that that's probably a complete lie, Willy is extremely cocky. So prideful and idealistic that he ends up nowhere -- a sense of realism and humility (like that of Charley's*) would have brought him a better life, arguably.
As I said, it's easy to find Willy's flaws -- he cheats on Laura, encourages Biff's stealing, and has a horrible sales record. Perhaps the reason that I feel sorry for him is an indication that he may have some heroic qualities after all. His stuck-in-the-past-ness that he shares with Amanda in The Glass Menagerie is certainly a sympathetic character trait. Though he's not realistic or truthful, Willy cares about his family and wants to see Biff and Happy become successful adults. That's a major factor that pushes him to commit suicide at the end of the play. Laura, Biff, and Happy acquired insurance money to pay off bills and start business. The suicide was extremely unfortunate, of course, but we can't say that it lacked nobility.
*Side note: One of the primary things (that's right, I said "things") I got from this play was from the childhood clash between Biff and Bernard. I think Death of a Salesman is a cautionary tale for those people who don't take math seriously.
Coughdramaticironycough.
Do I think that Willy is a tragic hero? My first thought is that no, I don't think that Willy exemplifies any of the characteristics of dramatic heroes. In fact, his flaws are so easy to point out that it makes me feel really sorry for him -- so I'll start there.
In our small group discussion, some people said that Willy's tragic flaw was his idealism, and others said it was his pride. I say, why can't it be a combination? My quote for this blog post is a good example of his extreme idealism -- idealism that never actually pulls through in the end. But it comes right after an interesting conversation Willy was having with young Biff -- "If somebody else took that ball there'd be an uproar," says Willy (1558). Later he says, "You take me, for instance. I never have to wait in line to see a buyer" (1561). Aside from the fact that that's probably a complete lie, Willy is extremely cocky. So prideful and idealistic that he ends up nowhere -- a sense of realism and humility (like that of Charley's*) would have brought him a better life, arguably.
As I said, it's easy to find Willy's flaws -- he cheats on Laura, encourages Biff's stealing, and has a horrible sales record. Perhaps the reason that I feel sorry for him is an indication that he may have some heroic qualities after all. His stuck-in-the-past-ness that he shares with Amanda in The Glass Menagerie is certainly a sympathetic character trait. Though he's not realistic or truthful, Willy cares about his family and wants to see Biff and Happy become successful adults. That's a major factor that pushes him to commit suicide at the end of the play. Laura, Biff, and Happy acquired insurance money to pay off bills and start business. The suicide was extremely unfortunate, of course, but we can't say that it lacked nobility.
*Side note: One of the primary things (that's right, I said "things") I got from this play was from the childhood clash between Biff and Bernard. I think Death of a Salesman is a cautionary tale for those people who don't take math seriously.
And it turns out that I accidentally slept with a prostitute last night.
"Gee, on the way home tonight I'd like to buy some seeds" (Death of a Salesman, 1585).
Throughout Willy's life, he tries to find his place and leave his mark, but his promises are typically empty. Willy told Biff and Happy that he would "have [his] own business" and would "show [them] all the towns" at some point, but that never actually happened (1559). Willy always thought that the key to success was to be liked -- "be liked and you will never want" (1561). However, whatever idealism Willy displays, his neighbor Charlie outperforms him. Charley encourages his son Bernard to study in school, talks less, sells more, and is somehow better liked than Willy (1563). In a way, the two families are foils; we've got Willy versus Charlie and Biff versus Bernard. Willy's optimism is nothing, for he has found no success in being a salesman.
Once Willy has his mind set on committing suicide, his mind returns instantly to the promise he made Laura (quoted at the top of the page). He tells his waiter Stanley, "Oh, I'd better hurry. I've got to get some seeds" (1619). Then, on the night of his death, he plants a garden and has hallucinations about discussing his suicide with his brother Ben.
Before I continue to analyze the significance of the garden, I'd like to point out that this is really sad. Willy found so little success in his life that all he feels he can contribute is a hastily organized garden that most likely won't even last. Simultaneously, his own sons abandoned him to hook up with call girls, and the only person he can talk to as he plants is his brother Ben, who is dead. And it's not even like they slept with the prostitutes on accident (I'm looking at you, Sam Seaborn). That's sad.
I would say that the garden is an important motif in Miller's play. The garden represents the Willy's failure to meet any of his goals in life -- his sons have hazy futures, he was fired from his position, and despite his most idealistic dreams, he is not well liked among his customers.
Throughout Willy's life, he tries to find his place and leave his mark, but his promises are typically empty. Willy told Biff and Happy that he would "have [his] own business" and would "show [them] all the towns" at some point, but that never actually happened (1559). Willy always thought that the key to success was to be liked -- "be liked and you will never want" (1561). However, whatever idealism Willy displays, his neighbor Charlie outperforms him. Charley encourages his son Bernard to study in school, talks less, sells more, and is somehow better liked than Willy (1563). In a way, the two families are foils; we've got Willy versus Charlie and Biff versus Bernard. Willy's optimism is nothing, for he has found no success in being a salesman.
Once Willy has his mind set on committing suicide, his mind returns instantly to the promise he made Laura (quoted at the top of the page). He tells his waiter Stanley, "Oh, I'd better hurry. I've got to get some seeds" (1619). Then, on the night of his death, he plants a garden and has hallucinations about discussing his suicide with his brother Ben.
Before I continue to analyze the significance of the garden, I'd like to point out that this is really sad. Willy found so little success in his life that all he feels he can contribute is a hastily organized garden that most likely won't even last. Simultaneously, his own sons abandoned him to hook up with call girls, and the only person he can talk to as he plants is his brother Ben, who is dead. And it's not even like they slept with the prostitutes on accident (I'm looking at you, Sam Seaborn). That's sad.
I would say that the garden is an important motif in Miller's play. The garden represents the Willy's failure to meet any of his goals in life -- his sons have hazy futures, he was fired from his position, and despite his most idealistic dreams, he is not well liked among his customers.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Another Important Theme
"Gosh! Everybody excels in some one thing. Some in many! . . . All you've got to do is discover in what!" (The Glass Menagerie, 1280).
Maybe it's a little cliche, but it's worth noting.
Arguably, the themes we discussed at the beginning of this unit -- realism, family relationships, and memory -- are the most important within the play. However, I really latched on to this little speech that Jim gave Laura about her inferiority complex. Literally, Laura didn't say a word in the entire play after she gave Jim the broken glass unicorn, so I can't be absolutely certain that she received his message; nonetheless, it's a valid and relevant one.
All three Wingfields are somehow trapped. Amanda is stuck in the past, Laura is restricted by her extraordinary shyness, and Tom lacks the adventure he desires. As an audience, we know that Tom moved on when he left St. Louis. Amanda probably didn't move on -- she couldn't get over the fact that Jim was engaged. Laura may or may not have received the message.
The message is this: if we fail to determine and dedicate ourselves to the areas in which we excel, we become trapped and, if you will, fragile, like glass. Jim delivered this speech with a special focus on Laura who he says has an "inferiority complex" (and that seems like a reasonable judgment). If Laura doesn't gain some confidence and offer herself to the world, she'll continue to be trapped at home with her glass menagerie. But the message, as I said before, applies to all three trapped Wingfields. My eloquence is waning and doesn't compare to Jim's, so I'm going to stop now.
Maybe it's a little cliche, but it's worth noting.
Arguably, the themes we discussed at the beginning of this unit -- realism, family relationships, and memory -- are the most important within the play. However, I really latched on to this little speech that Jim gave Laura about her inferiority complex. Literally, Laura didn't say a word in the entire play after she gave Jim the broken glass unicorn, so I can't be absolutely certain that she received his message; nonetheless, it's a valid and relevant one.
All three Wingfields are somehow trapped. Amanda is stuck in the past, Laura is restricted by her extraordinary shyness, and Tom lacks the adventure he desires. As an audience, we know that Tom moved on when he left St. Louis. Amanda probably didn't move on -- she couldn't get over the fact that Jim was engaged. Laura may or may not have received the message.
The message is this: if we fail to determine and dedicate ourselves to the areas in which we excel, we become trapped and, if you will, fragile, like glass. Jim delivered this speech with a special focus on Laura who he says has an "inferiority complex" (and that seems like a reasonable judgment). If Laura doesn't gain some confidence and offer herself to the world, she'll continue to be trapped at home with her glass menagerie. But the message, as I said before, applies to all three trapped Wingfields. My eloquence is waning and doesn't compare to Jim's, so I'm going to stop now.
Let's talk about Tom!
"But I'm not patient. I don't want to wait till then. I'm tired of the movies and I am about to move!" (The Glass Menagerie, 1268).
No, not that Tom.
Surprisingly, not that Tom, either. However, this may be a good opportunity to expose this secret thought of mine that I've had for the past two years -- am I the only one who thinks that Thomas Jefferson looks like Mrs. Bohn? Either I'm crazy or she should seriously look at her ancestry.
One of the questions in the book asks, "What qualities possessed by Tom, and by him alone, make him the proper narrator of the play?"
Tom seems to be the most round character in the play -- temperamental, poetic, friendly, trapped -- so I think he has the most interesting perspective. Only he could have delivered the final few lines of the play because he was the one who felt bounded by St. Louis and needed to find adventure.
An obvious answer the question is that Tom is a poet. He barely focuses on his day job and instead writes poetry; Jim calls him "Shakespeare." The ideal narrator of a play should have the poetic eloquence that Tom has.
Finally, the character list says that Tom is "not remorseless, but to escape from a trap he has to act without pity" (1234567 -- sorry, I got carried away -- 1234). Perhaps Williams wanted to have a narrator who connects with the others characters the least, and Tom fits that description well. That way, we see the characters from a relatively impartial lens instead of, say, Amanda's lens that would be very protective of Laura and critical of Tom.
No, not that Tom.
Surprisingly, not that Tom, either. However, this may be a good opportunity to expose this secret thought of mine that I've had for the past two years -- am I the only one who thinks that Thomas Jefferson looks like Mrs. Bohn? Either I'm crazy or she should seriously look at her ancestry.
One of the questions in the book asks, "What qualities possessed by Tom, and by him alone, make him the proper narrator of the play?"
Tom seems to be the most round character in the play -- temperamental, poetic, friendly, trapped -- so I think he has the most interesting perspective. Only he could have delivered the final few lines of the play because he was the one who felt bounded by St. Louis and needed to find adventure.
An obvious answer the question is that Tom is a poet. He barely focuses on his day job and instead writes poetry; Jim calls him "Shakespeare." The ideal narrator of a play should have the poetic eloquence that Tom has.
Finally, the character list says that Tom is "not remorseless, but to escape from a trap he has to act without pity" (1234567 -- sorry, I got carried away -- 1234). Perhaps Williams wanted to have a narrator who connects with the others characters the least, and Tom fits that description well. That way, we see the characters from a relatively impartial lens instead of, say, Amanda's lens that would be very protective of Laura and critical of Tom.
Realism, Family Relationships, and Memory
"The scene is memory and is therefore nonrealistic. Memory takes a lot of poetic license. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart" (The Glass Menagerie, 1235).
In my first blog entry for this play, I'll comment on realism versus nonrealism, complex family relationships, and memories -- I came up with these three themes on my own, of course.
The quote above explicitly declares that this play -- or at least the first scene -- is memory, so it's also nonrealistic. I agree that there are many nonrealistic aspects of the play that derive from the fact that the audience is essentially viewing Tom's memory as if it's a video camera.
I noticed quite a few cues for music during the play, which is nonrealistic and very effective. "The Glass Menagerie" plays first when Laura doubts she will receive gentlemen callers, again when Tom hurls his coat at Laura's glass collection, and yet again when Tom and Amanda discuss Laura's future. It becomes a sort of theme song for Laura that connects events that revolve around her and the problems she faces as an extremely shy girl. Also, "Ave Maria" plays when Amanda is giving Tom the silent treatment, which is weird. Maybe it's supposed to parallel Tom's belated apology to her, but the fact remains that Williams didn't specify which "Ave Maria" he wanted to be played. If I were in charge, I would obviously pick Schubert's "Ave Maria."
Moving right along, I would say that this play is actually mostly realistic. A lot of the realism derives from human conditions, including complex family relationships. Amanda and Tom quarrel after Amanda interrupts his "creative labor" (1246). Tom goes to the movies because his own life lacks "adventure" (1252). Tom acts like his father throughout the play, to his mother's dismay -- genetics is realism, right? This kind of stuff occurs in normal, day-to-day life.
In my first blog entry for this play, I'll comment on realism versus nonrealism, complex family relationships, and memories -- I came up with these three themes on my own, of course.
The quote above explicitly declares that this play -- or at least the first scene -- is memory, so it's also nonrealistic. I agree that there are many nonrealistic aspects of the play that derive from the fact that the audience is essentially viewing Tom's memory as if it's a video camera.
I noticed quite a few cues for music during the play, which is nonrealistic and very effective. "The Glass Menagerie" plays first when Laura doubts she will receive gentlemen callers, again when Tom hurls his coat at Laura's glass collection, and yet again when Tom and Amanda discuss Laura's future. It becomes a sort of theme song for Laura that connects events that revolve around her and the problems she faces as an extremely shy girl. Also, "Ave Maria" plays when Amanda is giving Tom the silent treatment, which is weird. Maybe it's supposed to parallel Tom's belated apology to her, but the fact remains that Williams didn't specify which "Ave Maria" he wanted to be played. If I were in charge, I would obviously pick Schubert's "Ave Maria."
Moving right along, I would say that this play is actually mostly realistic. A lot of the realism derives from human conditions, including complex family relationships. Amanda and Tom quarrel after Amanda interrupts his "creative labor" (1246). Tom goes to the movies because his own life lacks "adventure" (1252). Tom acts like his father throughout the play, to his mother's dismay -- genetics is realism, right? This kind of stuff occurs in normal, day-to-day life.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Concluding As You Like It . . . in your pants
"JAQ. Rosalind is your love's name?
ORL. Yes, just.
JAQ. I do not like her name.
ORL. There was no thought of pleasing your when she was christened" (As You Like It, III.ii.42).
I finished reading this play on Valentine's Day. Appropriate, no?
I'm trying to find an excuse to blog about this one part where Jaques and Orlando have a conversation with each other. So, I'll say this very astutely -- I think there are some important thematic ideas in Act III, Scene ii.
First of all, I would like to have a Jaques or an Orlando in my life, please. They were so quick and sarcastic when they were arguing about love -- so it's funny and serious simultaneously. I was hoping that they would fall in love by the end of the play, but unfortunately, Orlando ended up with the cross-dresser.
Jaques disapproves of Orlando's love -- he even says that it's Orlando's "worst fault." Orlando defends himself, "'T is a fault I will not change for your best virtue." Who's right, here: Monsiuer Melancholy or Signior Love? I would say that this scene highlights the complexity of love; to some, it's a horrible fault, and to others, it's a great virtue. That's a theme, right? Love is complex -- some believe that love is a fault while other believe that love is a virtue.
Jaques is probably so melancholy because HIS love (Orlando) is feverishly searching for a girl who cross-dresses. This analysis is all rooted in the text, by the way.
ORL. Yes, just.
JAQ. I do not like her name.
ORL. There was no thought of pleasing your when she was christened" (As You Like It, III.ii.42).
I finished reading this play on Valentine's Day. Appropriate, no?
I'm trying to find an excuse to blog about this one part where Jaques and Orlando have a conversation with each other. So, I'll say this very astutely -- I think there are some important thematic ideas in Act III, Scene ii.
First of all, I would like to have a Jaques or an Orlando in my life, please. They were so quick and sarcastic when they were arguing about love -- so it's funny and serious simultaneously. I was hoping that they would fall in love by the end of the play, but unfortunately, Orlando ended up with the cross-dresser.
Jaques disapproves of Orlando's love -- he even says that it's Orlando's "worst fault." Orlando defends himself, "'T is a fault I will not change for your best virtue." Who's right, here: Monsiuer Melancholy or Signior Love? I would say that this scene highlights the complexity of love; to some, it's a horrible fault, and to others, it's a great virtue. That's a theme, right? Love is complex -- some believe that love is a fault while other believe that love is a virtue.
Jaques is probably so melancholy because HIS love (Orlando) is feverishly searching for a girl who cross-dresses. This analysis is all rooted in the text, by the way.
On a practical level, what's up with the cross-dressing?
"I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind and come every day to my cote and woo me" (As You Like It, III.ii.45).
Let's talk about dramatic suspense.
At first, suspense occurs as the audience worries about the fate of Orlando with a crazy Duke and Oliver coming after him, but I'm not going to talk about that. Once we get past that, we find suspense as Rosalind forms this weird plan in her mind to . . . I'm not really sure I understood her methods throughout the play. I mean, she got what she wanted in the end, but I feel like there must have been an easier way to do it than cross-dressing.
My point is that Rosalind knows how she's going to end up with Orlando and even how she's going to get three other couples to get married by the play's end. We, as the audience, don't know what exactly is going to happen because while we get a lot of information from Rosalind, we can't read her mind like we can in some literature. There's a discrepancy between what Rosalind knows about her plan and what the audience knows about her plan, and since the audience increasingly learns more and more details of Rosalind's scheme, suspense is created.
Let me point out one more suspenseful thing, here. "Let your wedding be tomorrow" (V.ii.69). "To-morrow meet me all together" (V.ii.71). "To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; to-morrow will we be married" (V.iii.72). With the repetition of the word "tomorrow" (with or without a hyphen), I got pretty excited about tomorrow. And I think that tomorrow lived up to all the hype -- the ending was very happy. A little too happy for me, maybe. The real question is . . . did Avatar live up to the hype? Man, I'm full of Parks and Rec references tonight.
Let's talk about dramatic suspense.
At first, suspense occurs as the audience worries about the fate of Orlando with a crazy Duke and Oliver coming after him, but I'm not going to talk about that. Once we get past that, we find suspense as Rosalind forms this weird plan in her mind to . . . I'm not really sure I understood her methods throughout the play. I mean, she got what she wanted in the end, but I feel like there must have been an easier way to do it than cross-dressing.
My point is that Rosalind knows how she's going to end up with Orlando and even how she's going to get three other couples to get married by the play's end. We, as the audience, don't know what exactly is going to happen because while we get a lot of information from Rosalind, we can't read her mind like we can in some literature. There's a discrepancy between what Rosalind knows about her plan and what the audience knows about her plan, and since the audience increasingly learns more and more details of Rosalind's scheme, suspense is created.
Let me point out one more suspenseful thing, here. "Let your wedding be tomorrow" (V.ii.69). "To-morrow meet me all together" (V.ii.71). "To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; to-morrow will we be married" (V.iii.72). With the repetition of the word "tomorrow" (with or without a hyphen), I got pretty excited about tomorrow. And I think that tomorrow lived up to all the hype -- the ending was very happy. A little too happy for me, maybe. The real question is . . . did Avatar live up to the hype? Man, I'm full of Parks and Rec references tonight.
Look for my new CD next month: Memories . . . of Now
"Now will I stir this gamester: I hope I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he" (As You Like It, I.i.5).
Sometimes in literature, we have a Harry and a Voldemort, a Luke Skywalker and an Emperor, or an Othello and an Iago. However, in As You Like It (in your pants), identifying a protagonist and antagonist is difficult and perhaps [dramatic pause] impossible. I'm going to try and see what happens.
Let's start with potential antagonists. We first have Oliver who says that quote up there about how he hates his brother Orlando for no good reason. Then, we have Duke Frederick, who unlawfully banished his brother Duke Senior and then later Duke Senior's daughter just because she is her "father's daughter" (I.iii.13). It seems to me that Duke Frederick is a tad more evil than Oliver -- he commands Oliver to bring Orlando to him "dead of living" and then threatens him with seizure of his "lands and all things" (III.i.34). The problem here is that Oliver has a quick change of heart and falls in love with Aliena/Celia, AND Duke Frederick was converted by some "old religious man" at the conclusion (V.iv.77). If I had to pinpoint an antagonist, I would say that it's Duke Frederick, although he's not a typical antagonist when he changes his ways in Act V.
I don't think I can identify a single protagonist because most of the characters are just so . . . nice and good. Forgive the four-year-old vocabulary, but it's true. Touchstone is kind of vulgar and perverted, I guess. The most central character in the play is Rosalind, perhaps, so if I have to pick someone, I guess I'll pick her. Sense my enthusiasm here.
If I, at any point, refer to Duke Senior as "Duke Silver," please forgive me. This is the fault of Parks and Rec.
Sometimes in literature, we have a Harry and a Voldemort, a Luke Skywalker and an Emperor, or an Othello and an Iago. However, in As You Like It (in your pants), identifying a protagonist and antagonist is difficult and perhaps [dramatic pause] impossible. I'm going to try and see what happens.
Let's start with potential antagonists. We first have Oliver who says that quote up there about how he hates his brother Orlando for no good reason. Then, we have Duke Frederick, who unlawfully banished his brother Duke Senior and then later Duke Senior's daughter just because she is her "father's daughter" (I.iii.13). It seems to me that Duke Frederick is a tad more evil than Oliver -- he commands Oliver to bring Orlando to him "dead of living" and then threatens him with seizure of his "lands and all things" (III.i.34). The problem here is that Oliver has a quick change of heart and falls in love with Aliena/Celia, AND Duke Frederick was converted by some "old religious man" at the conclusion (V.iv.77). If I had to pinpoint an antagonist, I would say that it's Duke Frederick, although he's not a typical antagonist when he changes his ways in Act V.
I don't think I can identify a single protagonist because most of the characters are just so . . . nice and good. Forgive the four-year-old vocabulary, but it's true. Touchstone is kind of vulgar and perverted, I guess. The most central character in the play is Rosalind, perhaps, so if I have to pick someone, I guess I'll pick her. Sense my enthusiasm here.
If I, at any point, refer to Duke Senior as "Duke Silver," please forgive me. This is the fault of Parks and Rec.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Long Live Othello!
Intentionally or not, everyone forms instantaneous judgments of others based on their appearances and backgrounds. William Shakespeare’s tragedy Othello illustrates the theme that preconceived notions such as racism may effect and advance unwarranted disdain for other individuals. Because Shakespeare’s theme recurs in works such as J. K. Rowling’s novel Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and Aaron Sorkin’s television series The West Wing, Othello is timeless and universal.
In Othello, Iago hates the general Othello from the very first scene. The general has selected Cassio as his lieutenant whose experience on the battlefield cannot compare with that of Iago. Additionally, Iago references a rumor that Othello has had an affair with Emilia, Iago’s wife; whether or not that rumor holds true, the antagonist intends to “do as if for surety” (I.iii.369). Although these two central issues motivate Iago to hatch a plot against Othello, his blatant racism further invigorates his contempt for Othello. While informing Brabantio that his daughter Desdemona has married Othello, Iago shouts, “Even now, now, very now, an old black ram / Is tupping your white ewe” (I.i.88-89). The mischievous villain compares Othello to an animal more than once, and he casually refers to his general as “the Moor” with an insulting tone. Of all the characters in the play, Iago displays the most potent racism. Later, the antagonist plants a single rumor that entangles Othello and his companions: “Look to your wife. Observe her well with Cassio” (III.iii.198). Though not the primary reason for his hatred of Othello, Iago’s racism supplements and advances his contempt for the Moor.
As the second installment of perhaps the modern world’s most popular book series, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets tackles Shakespeare’s theme of disdain based on prejudice. Harry’s classmate and adversary Draco Malfoy despises Gryffindor house, to which Harry, Ron, and Hermione belong. In this novel, Malfoy flaunts Slytherin’s new broomsticks to the Gryffindor team – “‘Everyone’s just been admiring the brooms my father’s bought our team’” – and after Hermione observes the inferiority of the Slytherins’ wealth to the Gryffindors’ talent, Malfoy insults her by saying, “‘No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood’” (Rowling, 112). Ron later clarifies, “‘Mudblood’s a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born – you know, non-magic parents’” (Rowling, 115). Malfoy enjoys a wealth of reasons to hate Hermione; she is intelligent belongs to a rival house. His prejudice against Muggle-born wizards and witches further intensifies his contempt for her, and accordingly, Malfoy’s relationship with Hermione and her friends remains sour throughout the entire series. Like Iago, Malfoy prematurely judges based on lineage, and his rapport with other characters suffers.
In addition to the Harry Potter series, the television drama The West Wing shares themes of racism and derision with Othello. Partway through the first season, President Bartlet informs his daughter Zoey of derogatory letters she has received due to her relationship with Charlie Young. Charlie is both the personal aid to the president and a young black man. After hearing about the dangerous letters, Zoey cancels her date with Charlie at a club near which white supremacists are holding a rally (Sorkin, “The While House Pro-Am”). Here, Charlie’s enemies find ways to manipulate his dating life with no motives beyond pure racism. The second season follows a shooting during which President Bartlet and Deputy Chief of Staff Josh Lyman are wounded, and the Secret Service discovers that the criminals are white supremacist teenagers. Charlie expresses confusion as to why the teenagers would have targeted the president; Agent Butterfield responds, “The president wasn’t the target” (Sorkin, “In the Shadow of Two Gunmen, Part II). Young racist teenagers despise the president’s personal aid solely because of the color of his skin, and they nearly assassinate the president of the United States out of their contempt. Shakespeare writes of the same racism that energizes Iago’s hatred of the Moor.
Othello’s theme of the consequences of prejudice applies not only to Shakespeare’s setting but also to modern cultures. Unfortunately, discrimination like racism, a constant component of most societies, shows no signs of termination. Other common forms of prejudice – judging someone’s clothes, hair, or speech – are even more prevalent and take place in the minds of nearly every individual on the planet. Though everyone is subject to these snap judgments, how one responds to his immediate assessments of others defines his true character.
Works Cited
Perrine, Laurence. “Othello.” Perrine’s Literature: Structure, Sound, and Sense. Fort Worth. Harcourt College. 2002. 1361-462. Print.
Rowling, J. K. “Chapter Seven: Mudbloods and Murmurs.” Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. New York: Scholastic, 1999. Print.
Sorkin, Aaron. “In the Shadow of Two Gunmen, Part II.” The West Wing. Dir. Thomas Schlamme. NBC. 4 Oct. 2000. Television.
Sorkin, Aaron, Lawrence O'Donnell Jr., and Paul Redford. “The White House Pro-Am.” The West Wing. Dir. Ken Olin. NBC. 22 Mar. 2000. Television.
Monday, February 6, 2012
I Hold Your Hand in Mine
"I'm sorry now I killed you, / For our love was something fine. / Until they come to get me, / I shall hold your hand in mine ("I Hold Your Hand in Mine," 13-16).
I would like to dedicate this next song, "I Hold Your Hand in Mine," to the lovely couple of the evening, Othello and Desdemona. Unfortunately, neither of them could make it tonight as they are both dead.
Who's that handsome genius? His name is Tom Lehrer, retired Harvard mathematician and satirical musician, and among his vast collection of approximately fifty songs (half of which I am more than willing to perform for anybody), he wrote a few love songs, one of which is entitled, "I Hold Your Hand in Mine."
After Othello smothered his loyal wife with a pillow because he thought she was doing the dance with no pants with Cassio, Emilia belatedly informed Othello that everything Iago told Othello about Desdemona and Cassio was a huge lie. Out of love for his deceased wife, Othello stabbed himself in the chest, lay next to Desdemona, kissed her, and breathed his last. Lehrer's love song amazingly parallels the events and themes within the final scene of Othello, although his version is marginally more morbid:
In this number, Tom Lehrer presents his cynical view that what we call "love" may be on the cusp of insanity (or well beyond that point). As the speaker within "I Hold Your Hand in Mine" kissed his dead lover's hand after he killed her, so too did Othello kiss Desdemona after he killed her. Shakespeare teaches that the human defects of jealousy and assumptions can get in the way of true love, and Lehrer teaches that other human defects -- mental instability, for instance -- are obstacles to true love.
A final important similarity is that even after the deaths of their lovers, both Othello and the speaker in "I Hold Your Hand in Mine" still love their partners (or at least claim that they do).
I would like to dedicate this next song, "I Hold Your Hand in Mine," to the lovely couple of the evening, Othello and Desdemona. Unfortunately, neither of them could make it tonight as they are both dead.
Who's that handsome genius? His name is Tom Lehrer, retired Harvard mathematician and satirical musician, and among his vast collection of approximately fifty songs (half of which I am more than willing to perform for anybody), he wrote a few love songs, one of which is entitled, "I Hold Your Hand in Mine."
After Othello smothered his loyal wife with a pillow because he thought she was doing the dance with no pants with Cassio, Emilia belatedly informed Othello that everything Iago told Othello about Desdemona and Cassio was a huge lie. Out of love for his deceased wife, Othello stabbed himself in the chest, lay next to Desdemona, kissed her, and breathed his last. Lehrer's love song amazingly parallels the events and themes within the final scene of Othello, although his version is marginally more morbid:
In this number, Tom Lehrer presents his cynical view that what we call "love" may be on the cusp of insanity (or well beyond that point). As the speaker within "I Hold Your Hand in Mine" kissed his dead lover's hand after he killed her, so too did Othello kiss Desdemona after he killed her. Shakespeare teaches that the human defects of jealousy and assumptions can get in the way of true love, and Lehrer teaches that other human defects -- mental instability, for instance -- are obstacles to true love.
A final important similarity is that even after the deaths of their lovers, both Othello and the speaker in "I Hold Your Hand in Mine" still love their partners (or at least claim that they do).
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
These Women
"DESDEMONA. I have heard it said so. Oh, these men, these men!
Dost thou in conscience think -- tell me, Emilia --
That there be women do abuse their husbands
In such gross kind?
EMILIA. There be some such, no question.
DESDEMONA. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA. Why, would you not?
DESDEMONA. No, by this heavenly light!
EMILIA. Nor I neither by this heavenly light.
I might do 't as well i' the dark" (Othello, IV.iii.58-65).
Let's talk about the relationship between these two characters. They've definitely developed a close friendship that they can be as open to each other with this, but they also illustrate themselves as foil characters. I know this because Mr. Costello said so on the last test we took. I think the handkerchief incident reflects this well. Desdemona accidentally dropped the handkerchief when she was helping Othello out of loyalty to him -- Emilia stole the handkerchief out of loyalty to Iago, not to Othello.
It took me a few rereads to realize that Emilia is essentially admitting in Act IV, Scene iii that she's (at the very least) open to the idea of cheating on Iago. While it seems unlikely that she would do so with Othello -- a gullible but honorable man -- it doesn't seem like there would be anything holding her back from doing so. Maybe Iago has some grounds when he is suspicious of Emilia; whether or not he has grounds to hate Othello to the extent that he does is debatable.
However, Emilia makes a good point later on: "I do think it is their husbands' faults / If wives do fall" (IV.iii.82-3). Maybe that's not always the case, but I'm going to put myself in Emilia's shoes. I'll be the first to admit that I love Iago's character, but if I were married to him, the idea of cheating on him would seem appealing.
So, getting back to the topic of foil characters, this dialogue between Emilia and Desdemona reveals another crucial difference in their characters. Desdemona would never be disloyal to Othello, but Emilia would "venture Purgatory" to abuse her relationship with Iago.
Also, "these men, these men!" reminded me of an episode of The West Wing called "The Crackpots and These Women": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NTuXSdFjQSg
Dost thou in conscience think -- tell me, Emilia --
That there be women do abuse their husbands
In such gross kind?
EMILIA. There be some such, no question.
DESDEMONA. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA. Why, would you not?
DESDEMONA. No, by this heavenly light!
EMILIA. Nor I neither by this heavenly light.
I might do 't as well i' the dark" (Othello, IV.iii.58-65).
Let's talk about the relationship between these two characters. They've definitely developed a close friendship that they can be as open to each other with this, but they also illustrate themselves as foil characters. I know this because Mr. Costello said so on the last test we took. I think the handkerchief incident reflects this well. Desdemona accidentally dropped the handkerchief when she was helping Othello out of loyalty to him -- Emilia stole the handkerchief out of loyalty to Iago, not to Othello.
It took me a few rereads to realize that Emilia is essentially admitting in Act IV, Scene iii that she's (at the very least) open to the idea of cheating on Iago. While it seems unlikely that she would do so with Othello -- a gullible but honorable man -- it doesn't seem like there would be anything holding her back from doing so. Maybe Iago has some grounds when he is suspicious of Emilia; whether or not he has grounds to hate Othello to the extent that he does is debatable.
However, Emilia makes a good point later on: "I do think it is their husbands' faults / If wives do fall" (IV.iii.82-3). Maybe that's not always the case, but I'm going to put myself in Emilia's shoes. I'll be the first to admit that I love Iago's character, but if I were married to him, the idea of cheating on him would seem appealing.
So, getting back to the topic of foil characters, this dialogue between Emilia and Desdemona reveals another crucial difference in their characters. Desdemona would never be disloyal to Othello, but Emilia would "venture Purgatory" to abuse her relationship with Iago.
Also, "these men, these men!" reminded me of an episode of The West Wing called "The Crackpots and These Women": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NTuXSdFjQSg
"I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
"I pray you, in your letters, / When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, / Speak of me as I am, nothing extenuate, / Nor set down aught in malice" (Othello, V.ii.339-42).
In Othello's final speech, he reestablishes his greatness and illustrates himself as a classic Shakespearean tragic hero. First, as quoted above, he requests of his audience that they talk about him as he is -- nothing more, nothing less.
Then, Othello continues to say that he was "perplexed in the extreme" (V.ii.345). When Othello killed his wife, he acted out of jealousy, but he argues that this jealousy was not entirely his fault. Instead, he admitted that we was duped by the genius, witty, and attractive Iago. (I'm taking some liberties in paraphrasing the text, here.) I would argue that Othello's tragic flaw isn't his jealousy but his innate gullibility -- as Othello said in his speech, he is not naturally jealous but was hoodwinked into jealousy by the intelligent and beautiful Iago. (Again, taking some liberties.)
Finally, Othello makes a little analogy. One lovely morning*, Othello witnessed a Turk beating a Venetian, and Othello "took by the throat the circumcised dog / And smote him, thus" (V.ii.354-5). Othello compared himself to Venice's enemy and explained through this analogy that he did not deserve to live due to his disservice to his people. What a guy.
*lovely morning: setting not actually specified in the text
In Othello's final speech, he reestablishes his greatness and illustrates himself as a classic Shakespearean tragic hero. First, as quoted above, he requests of his audience that they talk about him as he is -- nothing more, nothing less.
Then, Othello continues to say that he was "perplexed in the extreme" (V.ii.345). When Othello killed his wife, he acted out of jealousy, but he argues that this jealousy was not entirely his fault. Instead, he admitted that we was duped by the genius, witty, and attractive Iago. (I'm taking some liberties in paraphrasing the text, here.) I would argue that Othello's tragic flaw isn't his jealousy but his innate gullibility -- as Othello said in his speech, he is not naturally jealous but was hoodwinked into jealousy by the intelligent and beautiful Iago. (Again, taking some liberties.)
Finally, Othello makes a little analogy. One lovely morning*, Othello witnessed a Turk beating a Venetian, and Othello "took by the throat the circumcised dog / And smote him, thus" (V.ii.354-5). Othello compared himself to Venice's enemy and explained through this analogy that he did not deserve to live due to his disservice to his people. What a guy.
*lovely morning: setting not actually specified in the text
Suspense!
"Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminated" (Othello, IV.i.191-2).
One of the questions in the book asks how Shakespeare creates dramatic suspense -- in other words, what makes the reader ask, "What's going to happen next?" The quote above is an instance of dramatic irony PLUS an example of where the reader awaits the fates of characters, two main factors in the suspense of this play.
Dramatic irony is a driving force behind the suspense in Othello. The Moor of Venice endows Iago with the epithet "honest" because he believes Iago that Cassio and Desdemona are having an affair. This explicitly conflicts with what the audience knows: that Desdemona is honest, and Iago is the disloyal character to Othello. While that's the main irony in the play, other examples appear -- "Oh, no," speaks Iago of Othello to Roderigo, "he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by some accident, wherein none can be so determinate as the removing of Cassio" (IV.ii.217-9). This is a false statement, but Roderigo does not know that -- Iago successfully manipulates him to kill (or at least pathetically try) to kill Cassio. The question from the reader then becomes, "When and how will these clueless characters* figure out what's actually going on here?"
Another creation of suspense is the audience's awaiting the fates of the characters. Obviously, since this is the Tragedy of Othello, Othello is going to die somehow -- but how? The quote above builds suspense because it lays out the plan for Desdemona's death. Will Othello be successful in this scheme? If so, how will that affect Othello, her husband, and Emilia, her friend? More importantly, while killing Desdemona, will he go with a pillow or just use his hands? I'm just asking a bunch of questions to which I already know the answers, but those were the questions I was asking myself as suspense built.
*clueless characters: everyone but Iago
One of the questions in the book asks how Shakespeare creates dramatic suspense -- in other words, what makes the reader ask, "What's going to happen next?" The quote above is an instance of dramatic irony PLUS an example of where the reader awaits the fates of characters, two main factors in the suspense of this play.
Dramatic irony is a driving force behind the suspense in Othello. The Moor of Venice endows Iago with the epithet "honest" because he believes Iago that Cassio and Desdemona are having an affair. This explicitly conflicts with what the audience knows: that Desdemona is honest, and Iago is the disloyal character to Othello. While that's the main irony in the play, other examples appear -- "Oh, no," speaks Iago of Othello to Roderigo, "he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by some accident, wherein none can be so determinate as the removing of Cassio" (IV.ii.217-9). This is a false statement, but Roderigo does not know that -- Iago successfully manipulates him to kill (or at least pathetically try) to kill Cassio. The question from the reader then becomes, "When and how will these clueless characters* figure out what's actually going on here?"
Another creation of suspense is the audience's awaiting the fates of the characters. Obviously, since this is the Tragedy of Othello, Othello is going to die somehow -- but how? The quote above builds suspense because it lays out the plan for Desdemona's death. Will Othello be successful in this scheme? If so, how will that affect Othello, her husband, and Emilia, her friend? More importantly, while killing Desdemona, will he go with a pillow or just use his hands? I'm just asking a bunch of questions to which I already know the answers, but those were the questions I was asking myself as suspense built.
*clueless characters: everyone but Iago
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Any other Iago fans?
"IAGO. She was a wight, if ever such wight were --
DESDEMONA. To do what?
IAGO. To suckle fools and chronicle small beer" (Othello, II.i.157-159).
I mean, if anything, I'm a feminist -- go, Abigail Adams and Margaret Sanger! (apparently, I need more pictures of American women in this blog) -- but this part was really funny, and not because I agree with Iago. I think I find humor in the fact that since Shakespeare's time, we haven't really made much progress in sexist jokes.
Let's identify the protagonist and antagonist. I previously mentioned that Iago is the antagonist, and I believe Othello would be considered the protagonist. And if the hero really always dies in Shakespearean tragedies -- well, sorry about your luck, Othello.
Now, let's talk about why I like Iago, which is potentially controversial.
1. Iago is an extremely round character; I mean, his character is a perfect circle. He's wicked smart and clever, he has experience serving his state, and he wants to see justice in action (at least when he's faced with the injustice, which brings me to . . .).
2. Iago has right on his side. I agree -- planning to frame and murder somebody, lie to just about everybody, and treat one's wife with childish contempt is a bit of an overreaction to not getting a desired promotion -- but gosh darn it, Iago should have been appointed lieutenant.
3. Iago makes the play interesting. Think of how crappy this story would be if Iago gave in and decided that Cassio is a worthy lieutenant.
4. Iago is telling me the story as we go along. Iago is anything but withholding, and I appreciate the fact that he's keeping me and not the other characters in the loop. It makes me feel special.
5. Iago is funny in an astutely vulgar way, as we witnessed above.
DESDEMONA. To do what?
IAGO. To suckle fools and chronicle small beer" (Othello, II.i.157-159).
I mean, if anything, I'm a feminist -- go, Abigail Adams and Margaret Sanger! (apparently, I need more pictures of American women in this blog) -- but this part was really funny, and not because I agree with Iago. I think I find humor in the fact that since Shakespeare's time, we haven't really made much progress in sexist jokes.
Let's identify the protagonist and antagonist. I previously mentioned that Iago is the antagonist, and I believe Othello would be considered the protagonist. And if the hero really always dies in Shakespearean tragedies -- well, sorry about your luck, Othello.
Now, let's talk about why I like Iago, which is potentially controversial.
1. Iago is an extremely round character; I mean, his character is a perfect circle. He's wicked smart and clever, he has experience serving his state, and he wants to see justice in action (at least when he's faced with the injustice, which brings me to . . .).
2. Iago has right on his side. I agree -- planning to frame and murder somebody, lie to just about everybody, and treat one's wife with childish contempt is a bit of an overreaction to not getting a desired promotion -- but gosh darn it, Iago should have been appointed lieutenant.
3. Iago makes the play interesting. Think of how crappy this story would be if Iago gave in and decided that Cassio is a worthy lieutenant.
4. Iago is telling me the story as we go along. Iago is anything but withholding, and I appreciate the fact that he's keeping me and not the other characters in the loop. It makes me feel special.
5. Iago is funny in an astutely vulgar way, as we witnessed above.
Seeing into the Mind of Iago
"Thus do I ever make my fool my purse, / For I mine own gained knowledge should profane / If I would time expend with such a snipe / But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor, / And it is thought abroad that 'twixt my sheets / He's done my office. I know not if 't be true, / But I for mere suspicion in that kind / Will do as if for surety" (Othello, I.iii.363-370).
I was going to shorten that quote, but I just had to keep typing -- everything Iago says is pure gold.
What we have here is a significant contrast between what the audience knows and what the characters know. In Othello, the only character who has a firm handle on what's actually going on is Iago. (This is essentially due to the fact that this play is from the vantage point of Iago, who is actually the antagonist.) Here, he establishes a contrast between what the audience knows and what Roderigo and Othello know. Roderigo believes that Iago will help him win back Desdemona if he gives Iago money, but Iago is using him for his "sport and profit." Othello believes that Iago is an honest ensign, but Iago is planning his revenge against Othello who (a) appointed Cassio as his lieutenant rather than Iago and (b) maybe slept with his wife, Edith. I mean, Emilia -- why do I have issues with that name? Maybe it's just because I'm a fan of Edith Wilson.
Iago delivers another soliloquy at the end of Act II to reveal his plan to plant a seed of suspicion that Cassio is spending time 'twixt the sheets with Desdemona, Othello's wife.
What sort of breaks this special relationship Iago has with the audience is that in Act III, Othello begins to share private information with the audience in addition to Iago. In one soliloquy, Othello expresses his internal concerns about Desdemona potentially sleeping with Cassio (III.iii.259-78). However, still, Othello doesn't know the half of what's really going on -- an instance of dramatic irony. Only Iago and the audience can share in the fullness of truth.
I was going to shorten that quote, but I just had to keep typing -- everything Iago says is pure gold.
What we have here is a significant contrast between what the audience knows and what the characters know. In Othello, the only character who has a firm handle on what's actually going on is Iago. (This is essentially due to the fact that this play is from the vantage point of Iago, who is actually the antagonist.) Here, he establishes a contrast between what the audience knows and what Roderigo and Othello know. Roderigo believes that Iago will help him win back Desdemona if he gives Iago money, but Iago is using him for his "sport and profit." Othello believes that Iago is an honest ensign, but Iago is planning his revenge against Othello who (a) appointed Cassio as his lieutenant rather than Iago and (b) maybe slept with his wife, Edith. I mean, Emilia -- why do I have issues with that name? Maybe it's just because I'm a fan of Edith Wilson.
Iago delivers another soliloquy at the end of Act II to reveal his plan to plant a seed of suspicion that Cassio is spending time 'twixt the sheets with Desdemona, Othello's wife.
What sort of breaks this special relationship Iago has with the audience is that in Act III, Othello begins to share private information with the audience in addition to Iago. In one soliloquy, Othello expresses his internal concerns about Desdemona potentially sleeping with Cassio (III.iii.259-78). However, still, Othello doesn't know the half of what's really going on -- an instance of dramatic irony. Only Iago and the audience can share in the fullness of truth.
Why isn't anybody jealous of "honest Iago"?
"But jealous souls will not be answered so. / They are not ever jealous for the cause, / But jealous for they are jealous. 'Tis a monster / Begot upon itself, born upon itself" (Othello, III.iv.153-156).
After reading three acts of Othello, I'm noticing that jealousy plays an important thematic role in the play. The first clear instance of jealousy is Iago's jealousy of Cassio, whom Othello appointed to be his lieutenant rather than Iago. Additionally, Roderigo is clearly jealous of Othello, who married Desdemona -- Roderigo has tried to steal her heart before the play begins, but to no avail. Another big hint that jealousy is important is the handout Mr. Costello gave me with four important themes in Othello, one of which is jealousy.
Iago's wife, Emilia (whom I keep wanting to call Edith -- I'm not sure I can explain why), provides an interesting commentary on jealousy when she talks to Desdemona of Othello's apparent suspicion of Desdemona. She says that people aren't jealous for a cause -- we are only jealous because we are jealous. In other words, jealousy works in a repetitious cycle, and Othello becomes a part of that cycle when he suspects Desdemona of cheating on him with Cassio. Also, I don't think I've used the word "jealous" so frequently in anything I've written before.
In honor of tonight's beautiful couple, Iago and Edith, I present this love song:
After reading three acts of Othello, I'm noticing that jealousy plays an important thematic role in the play. The first clear instance of jealousy is Iago's jealousy of Cassio, whom Othello appointed to be his lieutenant rather than Iago. Additionally, Roderigo is clearly jealous of Othello, who married Desdemona -- Roderigo has tried to steal her heart before the play begins, but to no avail. Another big hint that jealousy is important is the handout Mr. Costello gave me with four important themes in Othello, one of which is jealousy.
Iago's wife, Emilia (whom I keep wanting to call Edith -- I'm not sure I can explain why), provides an interesting commentary on jealousy when she talks to Desdemona of Othello's apparent suspicion of Desdemona. She says that people aren't jealous for a cause -- we are only jealous because we are jealous. In other words, jealousy works in a repetitious cycle, and Othello becomes a part of that cycle when he suspects Desdemona of cheating on him with Cassio. Also, I don't think I've used the word "jealous" so frequently in anything I've written before.
In honor of tonight's beautiful couple, Iago and Edith, I present this love song:
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