I'm going to throw out my notion here, and then respond along with you in the comments section.
I wondered why King Edward's mistress, Mistress Shore, was mentioned so early and so prominently in Scene 1, and drawn as such an engaging character, yet Shakespeare chose not to make her a member of the cast.
We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue.
. . . .
Can you deny all this?
14 comments:
I wondered about Lady Anne. She has been involved in the working of the court intrigue directing, initially abhors him, yet is reluctant to kill him herself or have him kill himself. She is skeptical of his wooing, yet despite her gut instinct goes with him and even allows herself to think that his words are actually words of love or at least the words of one who is repentant. What are the factors that might override her hatred and skepticism?
I, too, am interested in the women...specifically Lady Anne. Is she really going to believe that Gloucester is repentant? She clearly despises him. He says, "I'll have her; but will not keep her long" (1.2)...what a cad. And a scary, malicious, looney manipulator. However, maybe she is so pragmatic that she knows that her situation is now precarious, and she'll have to play along. It is, after all, political. His protestations of all-consuming love are very uncomfortable: I killed everyone because I love you, so here's a ring. What??!!
On the level of structure, I am intrigued by the use of anaphora to build even more intensity in what is already incredibly weird, intense dialogue. Is it overkill (no puns intended)? How would it read/look/play without out it?
Examples: the repetition of "but I" and "I" in the opening monologue and again at the start of 1.2, the use of "cursed be" and "cursed" (lines 14-16).
I see echoes of other Shakespearean plays as well: "I am determined to prove a villain" is quite similar to a line spoken by Don John in "Much Ado About Nothing," "Henry's wounds/ Open their congealed mouths" is reminiscent of how Caesar's wounds/wounded vesture appears in "Julius Caesar," as is "Which never dreamt on aught of butcheries (Antony speaking after the murder scene--"Pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, that I am meek and gentle with these butchers"), and even the logic that drives the murder of a gentle man to send him to heaven sounds like the logic Cassius uses to excuse the planned murder of Caesar (preventing his years of fearing death--"thus is death a benefit"). Even Gloucester's offer to Lady Anne to use his sword to kill him is not much different than statements made in "Julius Caesar" about turning swords into their "proper entrails"--in short, a lot of Shakepearean tropes/turns of phrase here.
I realize that this play follows the traditional Henriad, thus it is a political play. But my goodness, such violence and malevolence to start the play! I don't recall others of the history plays starting so violently, but then, my memory may be a bit faint. The language is certainly strong, and the dialogue occurs at a high pitch to start...does it continue to build without relief? I don't doubt that Shakespeare will give us a little breather, but I am caught already by the emotional maelstrom at the very start. Wow.
I wonder why Shakespeare gives Anne such facility with language, if her fate is to be powerless as Richard’s eventual wife. She laments, she curses, she addresses Richard with cleverness, wit, and seems to know him as he is, a “dreadful minister of hell,” who “knows’t nor law of God nor man.” She suspects that he is lying to her and even warns him, when he gives her his ring, “to take is not to give.” Why not create her as a meek and cowering character, at this point in the play?
I wonder about the standers-by in each of the scenes. Guards and Brackenbury are around when Richard speaks with Clarence, and “Gentlemen bearing halberds” accompany Lady Anne with the corpse. The stage directions don’t say they’re out of earshot (although maybe we’re supposed to assume they are, or that some of the conversations are sotto voce, but it isn’t specified), so I wondered what he’d have them say if he’d written in a scene with conversations between them. My Shakespeare knowledge is thin, but I’m thinking of the night before Agincourt conversations between Henry’s soldiers in Henry V, where they offer some shrewd, plain spoken, realistic observations about their situation, far from the glorifications of Henry’s speech the next day. Or Falstaff and his friends in the Henry IV plays, even the porter in Macbeth. They are “working class” people. Having overheard the scene's conversations, what would he have had them say about what they heard, and the people they heard it from, and what if anything it meant to them?
And I too wondered about Lady Anne and how she quickly turns in that conversation. A matter of “who’s zooming who” here.
I wonder about the degree to which hermeticism influenced Shakespeare's metaphysics. The religious imagery/references in Richard III seem traditionally Christian at first glance, but also hold some distinct pagan notes that I can't always pin down. For instance, Anne's curse of, "O God, which this blood madest, revenge his death! O earth, which this blood drink'st revenge his death!" is definitely suggestive of Abrahamic sacrifice, but seems tinged with something more alchemical: direct transmutation of a physical element into a manifestation of one's will-- a possible theme I can see developing. I'm interested to see if there are additional hints of pagan influence that can be directly identified in the authorship of the play.
RE: blood sacrifice (N.Fisher)
I wonder if it's a perverted/subverted sacrifice? Couple this with Richard's stated "sacrifice" of Anne's husband (making him "the fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him")--but the sacrifice is not a noble one, it is made out of lust and vengeance.
From Daniel:
I've never read RIII (nor, sadly, much of Shakespeare) and am looking forward to my first foray into this play. For the most part though, I'll be content to tag along behind you and your friends. Being a novice to literary analysis, it's my hope simply to watch and learn as you all venture ahead into the forest's shadows.
However, I do wonder, with a mind as agile as his, what plan Anne might have of her own regarding Richard when she turned aside the opportunity he gave her with the sword saying, "Though I wish thy death, I will not be thy executioner."
Re Anne comments: What fascinates me as much as anything about the Anne/Gloucester exchange is how deftly Shakespeare the writer leads us from Anne the purveyor of high insult to Anne the "okay, maybe you're not so bad." I reread the exchange to try to pinpoint the particular moments when she starts to crack, the particular moments when Gloucester inserts a wedge into her anger. It's both incredibly rapid and incredibly subtle.
Re N. Fisher comment: help me out and explain what hermeticism means in this context.
Also being a novice at literary analysis, I figure I'll float along , then dog paddle, then attempt to swim in the deep end!!!
There must have been some motive for Anne's change.
Dawn:
I was thinking specifically of alchemy and transmutation from hermetic thought. Some of the language, specifically one of Anne's curses that I mentioned, seemed to be less about asking of a higher power or making a trade with a higher power and more of, "I will this bodily humour to become revenge itself." Sort of like building a golem. I was seeing a parallel with the plotting that set all of this into action, which seems to involve some sort of divination "...says a wizard told him that by G His issue disinherited should be;" I'm on board with Carlene's reading of a subverted sacrifice, and I'm thinking about all of this because my curiosity is about the increased pagan influence on Christianity at the time and if/how that might be represented.
Is it possible, then, that Anne may take the ring (but "taking isn't giving")--in order to try to manipulate him? It's entirely likely she'd have little to no choice about his claiming her, if all of his machinations pan out. She appears to be feisty and intelligent; it's hard to fathom why she'd acquiesce so quickly, unless it's another subversion/subterfuge.
Nate, thanks for the explanation; that's helpful. Words like "hermeticism" make my eyes glaze, a problem I also have when balancing a checkbook and when being taught, once again, how to change a tire . . . which is to say: I have some holes in my head. So I appreciate the patient explication, and I agree that the intersection of Christianity, science (such as it was), and older pagan reactions is fascinating.
My take on Anne is: She's caught between rock and a hard place. She says yes to Gloucester and she's stuck with a monster in her bed. She says no to him and she and her family become the monster's mortal enemies. She's damned either way.
About Anne:
I agree that Anne knows how powerless she is, given her alliance with the Lancasters and Richard’s position as brother of the king. Perhaps words are powerful only if the listener is capable of being moved by them; not only is Richard unmoved, he seems to draw power from what she says, and at the very least, their conversation illustrates Richard’s ability to manipulate language to serve his purposes. Anne sees it, too, telling him, “you teach me how to flatter you.” But what about his crowing after the fact? Was his success really a victory, given the circumstances? I have always read his soliloquy as sarcasm, as he can’t really think that Anne sees him as a desirable husband. What is Shakespeare trying to show us about Richard’s psychology here?
Richard seems narcissistic and even sociopathic; Anne’s speech fuels his opinion of himself and his power. If we were getting really psychological, we could say he’s overcompensating for his physical deformity by putting all his power and focus into his intellectual manipulations and machinations. He says it straight off in the first speech: he was not made for love. He accepts that, but is bitter and like to watch others suffer, as he does.
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