Thursday, 31 March 2011

Allegory and Bakhtin


           Allegorical texts have dominated the content of this course.  Whether through the creation of deception or the dissimulative self in monarchic writing, the subversions a domineering society in non-aristocratic writing, or the various layers of meaning coming out of Faustus, allegory was a major component of effective writing in the Elizabethan period.  This idea of multiple levels of narration brought me to Mikhail Bakhtin’s theory on the dialogicand heteroglossia.
            By second-year I was quite familiar with Bakhtin’s work and have had it in my theoretical, mind bank for a few years now.  Therefore, when I read a text, the notions of stratification of language and authorial intent are always on my mind.  I am always seeking out ways in which the authorial voice projects itself on the text, where there is an inconsistency in voice.  While it can be quite heavy material to grasp, and I may have wished I hadn’t had to get through it at some points, I am glad I do have this knowledge, insofar as I am able to critically engage with texts and always challenge aspects that may be deemed questionable. 
            I have been thinking about this throughout the course and how easy it has been for us to point out the anxieties present in monarchic writing, or decipher the metaphors in subversive poetry.  Sometimes I wonder though, or questions arise in class, about how the people of the Elizabethan period reacted to these texts?  Did they see the anxieties surfacing?  Did they understand that James was arguing for his divine kingship purely out of self-interest?  If they wanted to rebel, or find truth, would they be able to interpret the messages that were hidden amongst the writings Shakespeare, More, etc.?

I can only imagine how different Elizabethan England might have been, if Bakhtin was readily available for people to read and learn from…

Tuesday, 22 March 2011

The Poetics of Shatner

           During our discussion of Sidney's "The Defense of Poesy" all I could think about was William Shatner.  Shatner has made a living off the effective combination of what Sidney discusses as ancient and modern approaches to prosody.

           Ancient techniques focused on the pronunciation of vowels and the use of long and short syllabic patterns.  On the other hand, the modern style emphasized the importance of accents and how they were strung together, or words were left unaccented.  Sidney claims that English is the most fit language for poetry, going through other dominant languages of the world and the limitations they impose on the creation of and variation in poetry.  To see Shatner put this theory to work check out the this video:





If Philip Sidney were still alive today I think he would be proud of old Billy Shatner! 

Tuesday, 15 March 2011

The Famous Flying Mustache!

           What do you do when your mustache starts to peel off your face in the middle of a live, nationally broadcasted, TV performance of King Lear?  Ignore it.  And boy did Orson Welles do that ever so well.

           While Lear and the Fool walk through the field in the storm, close-up shots reveal that Welles's mustache is trying to get away.  Almost like a massive combover in the wind, the little strand of fake air stretches out into the abyss.  Given one opportunity to fix the problem as a character enters the scene, Welles casually turns away from the camera, remaining in character and reaches up to stick it back on.  Despite his best efforts though, the little streamer finds a way to break free again and this time Welles just rolls with it.

           For Welles to make the slick costume adjustment he does, is unbelievable.  With the pressure of the cameras constantly rolling, on a no-interruption performance, Welles keeps his cool and improvises.  What I am interested to know is how many other things went slightly awry, but were undetected.  Had the lighting not so conveniently highlighted that strand of hair, it might have gone unnoticed.  The only reason I was able to catch Welles's readjustment, was because I was focusing on him solely for that purpose, to see if he would try to fix it.

Overall, I thought this performance of King Lear was quite astounding.  Although it was hard not to crack a smile at some points (Oswald's death in particular) I was fascinated by the set and the cohesiveness of the play.

Cassidy gives this performance two thumbs up!

Orson Welles as King Lear
(Before the mustache fiasco)

Friday, 4 March 2011

The Joker as the Shakespearean Fool

            Now that I have started I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.  After writing my reflection on the Joker and Aristotelian tragedy I started thinking about him as a modern deployment of the Shakespearean fool… her me out.
            The Shakespearean fool is a recurring character type in Shakespeare’s plays, often depicted as a peasant or “groundling,” existing outside the social sphere and called upon to comment on the state of the monarchy.  Fools actually existed in the court at the time, so this wasn’t some random Shakespearean invention.  These fools, as Shakespeare deploys them, were brought in the court to comment on the monarchy in a funny, honest, critical, but inoffensive way – a stressful, high-risk task.
            Shakespeare understood the potential this character type offered to his work.  The voice of the fool could be used as an outlet for the expression of Shakespeare’s opinions on social and political issues dealt with in his writing.  Having these socio-political critiques coming from a figure whose job it was to make these claims, Shakespeare distances himself from the implications and intent of the text, ultimately avoiding convictions of heresy.
So how does this apply to the Joker?
First, let’s go back to Joker’s monologue in my last reflection.  Dressed as a nurse and definitely considered an outsider, Joker openly comments on the irrationality of the authorities’ narrow-minded and linear way of thinking.  He tells Harvey that they are all “schemers,” that they have plans and think they can control everything, when the reality is in fact the opposite.  An outsider, honestly critiquing the state of the authoritative system… sound familiar?
My second example comes from Alan Moore’s graphic novel, The Killing Joke.  The Joker dominates the plot of this story, as he contemplates the root of his insanity and attempts to convince Batman and Commissioner Gordon that all it takes is “one bad day” in the madness of the world for someone to go off the deep end. 

Joker comments on memory, reasoning, and madness.


Joker: "One bad day"



At one point in the text, the Joker sings a song for Gordon that resembles the fool’s rhymes in King Lear quite closely.  Critiquing the world and the justice system that Gordon has so much faith in, Joker sings:
 “When the world is full of care and every headline screams despair, when all is rape, starvation, war and life is vile… I go loo-oo-oony… when the human race wears an anxious face, when the bomb hangs overhead, when your kid turns blue, it won’t worry you…when you’re loo-oo-oony” (24-25).
            The Joker reveals to Gordon that the world’s current state of affairs is mad and that in order to function in this kind of society, its citizens have to go mad as well.  Once again, it becomes the Joker’s responsibility to honestly and critically, with a hint of humour, analyze the workings of society.

Shakespearean influence in pop culture at its finest!   

Thursday, 3 March 2011

Tragedy, Anarchy and the Joker

I never thought I would be able to make a connection between the content of an Elizabethan literature course and Batman.  Buckle up – I’m about to!
            In our discussion of the tragedy, Aristotle’s focus on the unknown really grabbed my attention.  According to Aristotle, the tragedy incorporates both deterministic behaviour and anarchic free play, insofar as it recognizes that someone will suffer, but it cannot be determined how or when the suffering will come to fruition.  The representation of anarchy or chaos in art was, for Aristotle, a more effective approach to creating affect than the Apollonian theory of rationality.  It overturns the notion that if a=b and b=c, then a=b=c.  Instead, Aristotle suggests that we cannot know the full consequences of our actions and therefore, a simple linear approach cannot capture the indeterminable aspects that are inevitable in life.  Witnessing a tragedy was supposed to be a cathartic, learning experience for viewers, where they were taught to empathize with the suffering of others.  If the Aristotelian approach produces a greater emotional connection (affect) between the audience and players, this would lead to a greater cathartic response and thus a more influential learning experience. 
This idea of anarchy and chaos immediately reminded me of the Joker’s speech to Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight (3:23-):


The Joker recognizes, similar to Aristotle, that anarchic and chaotic action makes people much more responsive – as soon as the established order is shaken, “everyone loses their minds.”  Interestingly, this is usually the way tragedies play out, with one or more characters showing some sign of psychological unrest.  Consider Lear’s madness and his outlandish actions, Hamlet’s façade of mental instability and Ophelia’s ensuing depression, Macbeth and Lady Macbeth’s death plots, etc. (I understand these are all examples from Shakespearean tragedies, but this is the only experience I have had with tragedies to this point).  I find this so fascinating that these key concepts of literary culture continue to emerge, even in the subtlest ways, in contemporary popular culture. 
            Considering all this, you might say, that the Joker is a modern Aristotelian activist, setting out to make sure people understand the importance of the irrational nature of the world.  Keep fighting the good fight my face-painted friend!

Thursday, 10 February 2011

A Way With the Ladies

            After class today, I was telling a friend about John Donne’s “The Flea” and its seductive, eroticizing of the flea as a means of “picking up.”  It got me thinking about some of the sleezeballs that go around bars looking to “hook up” and how Donne’s character doesn’t come off much different.
Eloquent in his speech, the man is essentially a smooth-talker asking crudely, under the guise of allegorical elegance, “Wanna exchange bodily fluids?”  He plays on the phrase “carpe diem” (or seize the moment), a common technique in seduction pieces, suggesting that since their blood is already mixed in the flea, there’s no “sin” or “shame” in them getting together since, “this, alas, is more than we would do” (9).
Upon hearing this, my friend, a science student in a first-year English course, told me about a poem they studied by Andrew Marvell called “To His Coy Mistress,” and how he uses similar tactics in his attempts to woo a woman.  Interestingly, the poem is in our anthology so I was able to look at it afterward and man, is Marvell ever a sleezeball!  He is the epitome of the word. 
Basically, his poem starts with the speaker showering the mistress with romantic ideas of spending eternity together, during which he would praise her like a goddess.  Marvell says, “An hundred years should go to praise / Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze. / Two hundred to adore each breast: / But thirty thousand to the rest” (13-16).  While this sounds all well and good, Marvell shifts his focus to encouraging his mistress to seize the moment that has come upon them and suggesting that if she doesn’t, over time, “Thy beauty shall no more be found; / Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound / My echoing song: then worms shall try / That long-preserved virginity” (25-28).  Translation: “Sleep with me now, otherwise you’re going to get old and die, and worms will eat through your coffin and take your virginity because, if you don’t get with me, you won’t get with anybody.  Basically, I’m doing you a favour…” or something along those lines. Incredible.

"Nice try Sleezeball!" (That's what she said)


So, if any of you sleezeballs ever get a chance to read this, know that you’re not alone.  Others have come before you and paved the way for the douche-baggery you commit yourself to.  This being said, I think it’s time to come down from your high horse and get a reality check – women aren’t stupid and they can read you like a book.  Hey, textuality…

Tuesday, 8 February 2011

"The Lie"


            Sir Walter Raleigh’s “The Lie” is my favourite course text to date.  Though fascinated by the manipulative nature of James’s writing, Elizabeth’s unconcealed angst, More’s socio-political critique in Utopia, etc., there is something about the strength in the simplicity of Raleigh’s poem that I was struck by.  Knowing he was to be executed and that any convictions of treason would obviously be nullified by the fact that he was already to be beheaded, Raleigh addresses the political, social, and monarchic issues that exist in society, head-on. 
Within the first three stanzas, Raleigh attacks the monarch, the court and the church, three institutions not to be meddled with, showing their corrupt and rotting foundations and their deceiving ways.  Raleigh points to the falsehood and weakness of monarchic rule stating, “they live / Acting by others’ action; / Not loved unless they give, / Not strong but by a faction” (13-16), unequivocally commenting on exactly what caused James and Elizabeth so much anxiety.
These obtrusive revelations continue in the tenth stanza as Raleigh subverts some of the fundamental principles people live by. He equates fortune with blindness, nature with decay, friendship with unkindness, and justice with a lack of action (55-58).  Although Raleigh appears simply as a bitter and pessimistic prisoner, he is encouraging people to challenge the accepted state of affairs.  He forces them to look past the superficial stability of these socio-political systems to their rotten core by telling people, in his powerful and passionate, monosyllabic phrase “give them all the lie.”
While I appreciate the effectiveness of Raleigh’s language and style, I think most of all I applaud his attitude.  Instead of sulking over the fact that he is soon to be beheaded, he is empowered by his inevitable demise, this invincibility of the soul.  He cannot be beheaded a second time for treason.  Understanding this he rips open the confines of society to expose to the people the ruin that has governed their lives.

Sinner or saint? The choice is pretty clear to me.