Month: July 2012

BB: Coriolanus, Act II

(Podcast recorded and edited by Daniel J. Rowe, Show notes by Eric Jean)

Politics heat up and the bard brawlers read through Act II of the Tragedy of Coriolanus

Listen to the podcast here.

In Act II, scene 1, Menenius accuses the tribunes Sicinius and Brutus of plotting against Coriolanus for selfish reasons. The tribunes continue to maintain that Coriolanus is prideful and should not be given the consulship. Volumnia shows up with news of Coriolanus’ triumphant return to Rome. She and Menenius catalogue the history of Coriolanus’ wounds, which they anticipate will speak favourably for him when he is called upon to show proof of his military service to Rome. Brutus and Sicinius remain determined to convince the people to withhold their consent to Coriolanus’ nomination.

The patricians and the tribunes are gathered at the capitol to elect a new consul in act II, scene 2. Though we are told of two other candidates, Coriolanus is clearly a shoe-in for the job. (Cominius currently holds the office but he’s not one of the candidates. Consuls were not allowed to serve consecutive terms at this point in roman history.) Cominius offers up his panegyric to Coriolanus, which recounts his military exploits and tells everyone how much Coriolanus is epic and awesome, but Coriolanus doesn’t care to hang around and hear himself be praised (jury is still out on whether Caius Martius Coriolanus is really as humble as he keeps saying he is). All the patricians support his nomination but Coriolanus has no desire to parade his wounds before the common people. Meanwhile, more plotting by the tribunes who hope to abuse Coriolanus’ temper to discredit him.

Menenius convinces Coriolanus to honour the custom of showing his wounds in public. Act II, scene 3 takes place in the forum, with Coriolanus dressed in a sort of ritual gown of humility. The peasants know the score: this whole ‘show us your wounds’ business is basically a formality. Though the tribunes and the people can veto the decision of the patricians, if Coriolanus shows them his wounds, they’re more or less forced to give him their support (as the Third Citizen explains in the opening moments of the scene.). Coriolanus meets with the citizens in groups of 2 or 3 and generally acts like an ass with them but manages to get their grudging support. As soon as he leaves the scene, Sicinius and Brutus play the crowd and convince the citizens to withdraw their support. They cleverly cast themselves in the role of well-meaning but misguided counselors and the enraged citizens head for the capitol to deny Coriolanus his consulship.

About these citizens. In most of Shakespeare’s plays, these anonymous characters serve an expository role – like Neo in The Matrix, they ask the questions and volunteer the information the audience needs to understand the background of the story. Sometimes, they’re given some interesting lines, but in most cases they’re minor, undistinguished characters that only exist to fulfil a necessary narrative function. However, in Coriolanus, these citizens seem to have substance, individual leanings and views. Many of them differ in their assessment of Coriolanus and whether or not he should be consul. In Coriolanus, there’s disagreement, lack of consent and even changing opinions in the multitude. This is in fact precisely what Coriolanus finds reprehensible in the plebeians, their lack of constancy and their divisiveness. Ironically, the tribunes themselves seem to take advantage of this: they are easily able to sway the people to withdraw their support for Coriolanus’ appointment. I wrote about the tribunes and the citizens on my sometimes-active blog if you’re interested in reading more about them.

(Unfortunately, the differences between the seven citizens might not come out so clearly in the podcast. You’ll notice that only André, David, Daniel and myself were reading this week so we were forced to sort of jumble together the citizens’ lines. We tried on different voices… with varying degrees of success.)

The play though opens up with these same hungry citizens who seem to have very legitimate reasons for being upset at Caius Martius and their lot in the new Roman Republic. The commoners in Coriolanus aren’t simply dismissed by the plot, making quick cameos and then disappearing. They’re active (if nameless) participants in the unfolding drama. They quite literally take center stage opposite to Coriolanus throughout the play, as a group and as individuals.

As we mentioned several times on the show, Coriolanus is adapted from Plutarch’s Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans (often just called Lives, or Parallel Lives) which we highly recommend. It’s surprisingly readable. We’ll have more to say about Coriolanus and Plutarch as we read through the play but I wanted to leave you with one remark which is relevant to this scene. Coriolanus’ refusal to show his wound to the plebeians is Shakespeare’s invention. In Plutarch, Coriolanus does in fact parade his wounds for the people without complaint. The gown is made-up too. I wonder: does this make Coriolanus more of a petulant child for refusing to do what’s accepted tradition? Or is his objection to taking part in a politically expedient lie commendable?

There’s so much more that could be written about Plutarch and Shakespeare, but we’ll leave it for another episode.

Please leave us a comment to tell us what you think: is Coriolanus prideful or principled? Are the citizens just a bunch of lemmings for the tribunes to play with or do they deserve some names?

Looking forward to a totally explosive act III!

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BB: Coriolanus, Act I

(Podcast recorded and edited by Daniel J. Rowe, Show notes by Eric Jean)

For our second play we dive into the Tragedy of Coriolanus.

Listen to the podcast here.

Bard Brawlers: Andre Simoneau, David Wheaton, Stephanie E.M. Coleman, Eric Jean and Daniel J. Rowe

The first act of Coriolanus is a whirlwind of action and conflict. Scene 1 opens on a mob of hungry Roman citizens who have decided to take by force the food which has been denied them by the patricians. Menenius arrives on the scene and manages to talk them down but soon after Caius Martius (Coriolanus) shows up and he and the citizens exchange insults. (A Brawler favourite, from the mouth of Coriolanus: “What’s the matter, you dissentious rogues, / That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, /Make yourselves scabs?”) We learn that a neighbouring city has plans to attack Rome. Martius invites the mob to join the army and earn their corn through service to the state. We also learn that another mob, elsewhere in the city, laid down their arms in exchange for the right to elect five representatives of the common people to government, the tribunes, a concession which Martius finds deplorable. The scene closes with the tribunes Sicinius and Brutus talking about Coriolanus’ prideful nature.

Scene 2 quickly jumps to the Volscian camp. Aufidius hears about the impending Roman counter-attack and vows to fight Martius in single combat until one of them kills the other.

Scene 3 is a domestic scene in which we find Volumnia and Virgilia sewing in Martius’ home. Volumnis extols the virtues of her son. She mocks her daughter-in-law for not taking enough pride in her husband’s military service to Rome and for being overly concerned for his safety. Virgilia’s friend Valeria shows up and tells them that Martius and the others are off to war against Aufidius and the Volscians. Volumnia is happy about the news, Virgilia is not.

Scenes 4 through 10 describe the action-packed battle for the city of Corioli. (Some editions write Corioles.)  By the end of scene 4, Martius is cut off from the rest of the army and locked inside the city with Titus lartius and his men. With the help Martius’ individual efforts, the Romans take the city and Martius leaves Lartius behind (in scene 5 and scene 7) to occupy the town while he rushes to Cominius’ aid. A message reaches Cominius in scene 6 which claims that Martius has been killed but Martius then appears on stage covered in blood (most of it’s Volscian blood of course because Martius is such a badass) and he joins Cominius’ forces. In scene 8 Martius and Aufidius finally square off but they are interrupted by Aufidius’ men who interfere in their duel. Scene 9 opens with the retreat of the Volscian forces. For his role in the fighting, Cominius rewards Caius Martius with an extra share of the spoils and with the surname ‘Coriolanus.’ Coriolanus accepts the title but turns down the loot. Finally, Aufidius vows to kill Coriolanus by any means necessary in scene 10.

As Daniel mentioned on the air, part of the challenge of understanding the relationships and the political stakes within the play comes from our lack of familiarity with Roman titles and customs. (This is in addition to Shakespeare’s own occasional misunderstandings.) To help you map out who’s who in Coriolanus, here’s a short list of some of the titles referred to in the play:

  • Consul: This is a rather complicated title, but in the play it stands for the highest political appointment in Rome. Consulships were granted by election of the people of Rome – patricians and citizens had to give their assent.
  • Patrician: The patricians are the nobility and leaders of Rome, thought to be the descendants of the Roman Republic, foudned following the exile of the Tarquin kings who used to occupy Rome.
  • Citizen or plebeians: These, for the purposes of this play anyhow, are the common, free people of Rome.
  • Tribune: An official elected by the plebeians. It is illegal to threaten them with harm and they have the right to pass judgement on individuals on behalf of the common people of Rome.
  • Aediles: They traditionally guarded and maintained public buildings. In Coriolanus they serve primarily as the plebeians’ police force (They  show up later in the play)

This episode from Roman history occurs at the very dawn of the Republic, less than a generation after the last king gets booted out of Rome (We’re told that Coriolanus fought in that war, in fact, as a teenager). This is important because it helps to explain both Coriolanus’ sometimes unsympathetic disregard for the common people but also the people’s fear of Coriolanus’ authority. Also good to keep in mind: at this point in history, Rome has not yet embarked on its conquest of Italy and the city’s fate is still very much uncertain.

To wrap up, here’s a short list of some of the characters appearing in this (wild!) first act of Coriolanus:

  • Menenius Agrippa: An old patrician and friend of Coriolanus who tries to keep the peace and curb the excesses of Coriolanus’ character.
  • Caius Martius “Coriolanus:” A skilled Roman war hero who makes a better soldier than a politician. He dislikes the common people for their inconstancy.
  • Volumnia: Coriolanus’ mother who pushes her son towards fame and political power.
  • Virgilia: Coriolanus’ young wife.
  • Valeria: one of Virgilia’s friends.
  • Cominius and Titus Lartius: Roman generals under whom Coriolanus serves during the attack on Corioli.
  • Junius Brutus and Sicinius Velutus: These are the newly elected tribunes of the people. They have made it their task to oppose Coriolanus’ rise to power which they see as dangerous for the common people of Rome.
  • Tullus Aufidius: The general of the Volscian army and Coriolanus’ chief military rival.

If you’re looking for a good movie adaption of Coriolanus, check out Ralph Fiennes’s recent adaptation. (While Fiennes does a really good Coriolanus, prepare to get blown away by Vanessa Redgrave as Volumnia. Outstanding.)

Anyhow, hope you enjoy listening to Coriolanus as much as we do!

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BB: Merchant of Venice, Act V

We did it! We’ve finished recording our first complete play!

Welcome to the Bard Brawl’s fifth and final episode of The Merchant of Venice.

Listen to the podcast here.

Download the podcast.

Bard Brawlers for this act are (Clockwise from top left) Melissa Myers, John dit Jack, Stephanie E.M. Coleman, Eric Jean and Daniel J. Rowe

The final act of The Merchant of Venice has only one scene in which all of the loose ends and threads get tied up. Portia and Nerissa beat Bassanio, Gratiano and Antonio back to Belmont. After the couples are reunited, the women ask for the rings which they gave their husbands back in act III, scene 2. Awkwardness and humour ensue as the women sweat their husbands for giving away their rings to the doctor and his clerk. Portia and Nerissa even go so far as to suggest to Bassanio and Gratiano that they’ve been sleeping with these men seeing as they had the rings which the ladies gave their husbands. In the end, they give the rings back to their husbands but only after Antonio offers himself up once again as surety for the sincerity of Bassanio’s and Gratiano’s wedding vows.

After the high-stakes, high-tension court scene of act IV, act V can seem like a bit of a letdown: each of the three couples are happily reunited once again on stage, and Antonio learns, that because some of his ships have made it back to port, he’s not going to spend the rest of his days totally broke. Since we know (because we’re in on the gender-swapping disguise game) that the boys are not really in trouble, there just doesn’t seem to be that much at stake. There’s just no way Shakespeare’s going to write a comedy and not give us our three weddings, right? However, that doesn’t mean that all of these weddings have to be created equal.

Gratiano and Nerissa are clearly a doubling of the Bassanio and Portia couple, once removed from true nobility (Portia is the lady, Nerissa the maid, after all). The play seems to believe that they’ll live happily together as one big happy sitcom family (it’s hard to imagine that they would have kicked Antonio out to starve if he’d ended up penniless). But what about Lorenzo and Jessica in all of this?

I mentioned in an earlier post that Shakespeare gives us some hints that Lorenzo and Jessica’s relationship may not be all it promises to be (and that it’s probably Lorenzo’s fault). As act V opens, the couple sits outside of idyllic Belmont, gazing up at the moon. Lorenzo and Jessica compare their love story to those of other well-known literary love affairs.

Here’s the list of allusions:

  • Troilus and Cressida: Troilus and Cressida fall in love during the Trojan war but Cressida is traded to Diomedes. Cressida knows she’ll have to submit in the hopes of saving her people. Troilus renounces his love for her as a result.
  • Pyramus and Thisbe: Two lovers enemy household are forbidden to marry. They set up a meeting place. When Pyramus arrives he thinks that Thisbe was killed by a lion so he falls on his sword. Thisbe arrives later, sees him dead, then kills herself as well. (Sound familiar?)
  • Dido and Aeneas: In his travels, Aeneas arrives in Carthage and woos Dido. Soon afterwards, he leaves Carthage never to return. Dido kills herself by throwing herself into a pyre.
  • Medea and Jason: Jason promises to marry Medea in exchange for some help getting the Golden Fleece. He leaves her in the lurch and marries another woman instead.

Will Jessica and Lorenzo take their place among these infamous couples? Jessica certainly seems to think so, and she compares Lorenzo to all of these infamous lovers, casting herself as the victim of a faithless lover’s promise.

Lorenzo’s love of music (which in this context likely means poetry) is telling. He sees his relationship with Jessica in poetic terms, is inattentive to the actual words, the weight, behind these stories. (Remember that Bassanio, the successful suitor, reasons that love is purchased by the weight and passes the test because of it.) While Lorenzo can afford to make promises lightly in love, to pursue it as though it were just another beautiful story, Jessica cannot afford to be so light-hearted with her affections. When we consider the potential consequences to Jessica should Lorenzo choose to abandon her, we can understand why her last line is “I am never merry when I hear sweat music.” She – like many women before and since – has been fooled by Lorenzo’s music. She’s worried about what will happen when the music stops.

So with that, we close the book on The Merchant of Venice but feel free to leave us some comments. We’d love to hear from you.

Next week, we change gears and tackle our next play, Coriolanus.

Stay in touch, Brawlers!

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BB: Merchant of Venice, Act IV

A special treat this week: a studio recording of Act IV, scene 1! The recording was done a few months as a pilot for a radio show. Unfortunately, the show was never picked up but why let the recording go to waste? Hope you enjoy it. (Act IV, scene 2 was recorded this week).

Listen to the podcast here.

Download the podcast.

Act IV, scene 1 takes place in the courtrooms of Venice, presided over which presides the Duke, the ultimate authority of the city. However, as Shylock explains, the Duke doesn’t have the power to free Antonio because to suggest that the laws of Venice can be overturned arbitrarily as the ruler wishes robs these laws of all their power. However, though some clever application of Venetian laws, engineered by Portia in disguise, Shylock is beaten at his own game. When Shylock’s life is placed in Antonio’s hands, he chooses not to have Shylock killed but to be ‘merciful’ and spare Shylock’s life. Antonio’s ‘mercy’ leaves half of Shylock’s wealth to Antonio – who is in dire need of cash at this point – with the rest being turned over to Lorenzo, the man who stole away his daughter. However, it also forces Shylock to convert to Christianity.

The Merchant of Venice is, among other things, about justice and judgement. The play opposes two conceptions of justice. The first model goes something like this: what is just is what is in accordance to the law. The second model, however, sounds more like this: perfect law is not perfect justice but tyranny.

Representing the first form of justice is Shylock. Whatever the moral implications of his demand, Shylock is perfectly within his legal rights to claim his pound of flesh. Both Antonio and the duke recognise that this is the case as well, which is what creates the problem for Antonio in the first place. Representing the second form of justice is Antonio, who stands for the principle of law tempered by mercy. (This parallel, incidentally, can also be thought of as sketching out an Old Testament – Jewish – vs. New Testament – Christian – conception of justice.)

In act IV, scene 2 is when Portia and Nerissa manage to make good on their promise and obtain their rings from Bassanio and Gratiano. There’s not much to say about this scene except that it’s brought about at Antonio’s wish, it seems. Antonio tells Bassanio that he should give the clerk the ring: “My Lord Bassanio, let him have the ring: / Let his deservings and my love withal / Be valued against your wife’s commandment” (IV,1). Basically Bassanio decides that Antonio’s value and love trumps Portia’s wish that he keep his ring. Hell of a catch, this Bassanio…

Throughout Act IV, scene 1 several references are made to the Old Testament prophet, Daniel. Daniel represents the figure of the wise judge, able to see through falsehoods and reach a verdict that is truthful. This reputation is largely inspired from the story of Susanna (from the Book of Daniel).

In the biblical story, Susanna is approached by two old judges while she is bathing in the garden. They tell her that unless she agrees to have sex with them, they will instead tell her father that she had sent away her servants in order to have sex with a young man. Susanna refuses to do so and was brought before her people and sentenced to death. Daniel interrupted the judges, however, and suggested that they be interrogated separately about their testimony. Having questioned them about which type of tree the young man slept with Susanna, he caught them in a lie and they were sentenced to death and Susanna was saved.

You can find a version of the story of Susanna, from the apocrypha of the King james bible, here. (I can also highly recommend reading Wallace Steven’s poem “Peter Quince at the Clavier” which makes use of the story of Susanna in a more explicit way. Peter Quince, some of you might remember, is one of the members of Bottom’s acting troupe in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.)

In a sense, what Antonio’s sentence does is rewrite the ending of that story: given the right to exact his vengeance on Shylock for having sought to kill him, Antonio chooses instead to spare Shylock from the tyranny of law. Shylock should die, but instead he lives. This would certainly have resonated with the contemporary English Protestant idea that it is through divine grace alone, through God’s mercy, that we ourselves are spared despite our having transgressed God’s law.

The Brawlers have discussed the nature of Antonio’s ‘mercy’ at length but we haven’t managed to agree about how we feel about that sentencing. Is Antonio really being merciful? Is he being cruel to Shylock in asking him to give up his ‘Talmudic law’ for ‘Christian mercy’? Why not weight in and tell us what you think about the nature of Antonio’s mercy? We’d love to hear from you!

Bard on!

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Email the Bard Brawl at bardbrawl@gmail.com

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