Sourcebooks Review Part II : The Audio

When I first reviewed Sourcebooks Shakespeare I had not ripped into the accompanying audio CD because I wanted to give them away to my readers.  Well, now that we are giving away copies to TWO readers I am free to dig in. Umm…wow.  Or maybe, holy cow!  Or fill in your own word for “cow”.  To think I almost missed this. Let me take a moment to explain how I listen to stuff on CD these days.  Regardless of the matter, I rip it into MP3, compile it all up into a single file, turn it into audiobook format, and then put it on my ipod where I most typically listen while driving.  I got into this habit specifically because the ipod lets you put audiobooks (and not just any random MP3) on “faster” mode, allowing you to effectively speed read your way through a book on CD.  It was with this approach that I began the King Lear CD. …and it took me about 10 seconds to turn off “faster” mode, for starters.  I want to enjoy this, not merely say that I completed it. The CD ends up being something that is half lesson, half sampler, and all wonderful.  There’s a very simple structure – Derek Jacobi narrates, introducing a scene from the play followed by two different versions of that same scene.  At least I think it is always two, I’m not quite done yet.  By description I don’t just mean he says “Ok, here’s the Scofield versus the Olivier” – that would be the sampler.  It is a lesson because he explains what to listen for in each, how in the first you might hear Edgar doing a manic Poor Tom who barely prevents breaking character when he realizes he is speaking to the king, while in the second you get an Edgar who always looks to be in control of himself and is merely spouting a steady stream of gibberish. (That is my paraphrase, that is not part of the narration). I could listen to that all day.  There is no confusion, none at all, with this snipping of a scene here and a scene there, without context.  The narration provides perfect context, telling you what’s led up to this point, and walking you through the action that will happen.  It is where he says what to listen for that the real hardcore fans in the audience might find fault, as they’d like to listen for themselves first.  Not me.  I’m perfectly happy to be told the differences to watch for, and then see if I can hear it in the performance.  Quite honestly sometimes I agree, sometimes I don’t.  Jacobi may tell me that this Lear is going to speak to the storm like it’s a person standing next to him, but then when I hear that performance that’s not the thought I get at all. Walking through the scenes like this is also a great way to get a taste of productions you might not otherwise get to witness.  The first Fool I ever saw was John Hurt, playing to Olivier’s Lear.  Samples from that version are included, sometimes up against none other than Kenneth Branagh, playing the Fool vs Paul Scofield’s Lear.  You know what?  To my ear, Branagh never stood a chance. 🙂 It is easy to get confused, I have to say that.  One long stream of various people doing various scenes from the play makes it hard to connect the two and say “Ok, I remember how Olivier played Lear in the first scene, now I want to compare it to the scene on the heath…”  That might be easier with the original CD and the book for reference, rather than how I am doing it. [Funny aside, a coworker just came by as we wrap up our lunch hour and we got into a discussion about source material and multiple versions, and how there are some folks that will only ever love the first “version” they see, while others will seek out multiple versions and find their enjoyment in the intricate differences between the two.  I played a sample of this very audio for her, explaining that even though it is an analysis of King Lear, “This is the sort of thing I listen to for fun.”  You know what?  It sounds 1000x better on my headphones than in the car, I may have to switch my listening style…] Anyway, wrapping it up.  This is just wonderful, wonderful stuff.  I’d like the entire canon like this, please.  I want more than 2 examples of each, I want half a dozen.  I want a web site where they’re all indexed so I can pick and choose, a virtual Build-a-Lear Workshop (I just thought of that! :)) where I can piece together some Olivier, some Scofield, some McKellen… Don’t forget, we’re giving away two copies, so what are you waiting for?

Shakespeare Guy Love

After seeing a very funny and definitely off-color reference to Sonnet 20 on Twitter, I went to look it up and saw it tagged as the one that “surely” proves Shakespeare’s homosexuality.  I don’t have the time right now to dig into it, but you know what it did remind me of?  Scrubs.  How many people watch this TV show?  I love it, and for awhile even had a web site dedicated to it. In the show, for those that don’t watch, there’s the very complicated best-friend relationship between Turk, the masculine black surgeon, married with kids, who spends his time playing basketball, working out, high-fiving and chest-bumping his like-minded surgeon friends…and J.D., the emotional needy nerdy white guy who spends his time fantasizing about things that most certainly border on homoerotic, to say the least. Some examples from the history of the show…

J.D. “Dude I don’t want to sound girly or anything, but for the last 5 years you’ve kinda been like my wife.” Turk  “How is that girly?”

or this

J.D. “Come on, it’s not like we’re married.” Turk “Dude, we’re married a little.”

or the fact that in their musical episode there is an entire number entitled “Guy Love”:

Guy love, that’s all it is!  Guy love, he’s mine I’m his!  There’s nothing gay about it in our eyes. 

This is a very trendy topic, ranging from the reality show “Bromance” to the recent movie “I Love You, Man.”  But in this relationship it’s pretty clearly lopsided, with JD being far more “expressive” in his feelings.  Take this running joke, as part of the best friends’ celebration:

Turk:  Upstairs! (They bump chests.) JD: Downstairs! (They bump crotches.) Turk:  I don’t really like ‘downstairs’. JD:  No?  I wanted to try it.

That was a few years ago.  Just last night they revisited the joke:

JD: Downstairs!  (They bump crotches.) Turk:  I still don’t like ‘downstairs’. JD: Really?  You haven’t come around yet?

Just a few minutes later, Turk received some good news:

Turk:  Downstairs! JD: Really? Turk:  No!  What’s *wrong* with you?

I guess my point, other than wanting to showcase my love of my favorite TV show, is that that’s sort of how I view the whole “Was Shakespeare gay?” thing.  No, I don’t think he was.  Can you cite examples where it really really really looks like he was?  Probably.  But so can I.  After all, the JD character above has a child of his own, and also been through relationships with many women.  I think the bigger issue is how some people deal with the topic.  It’s like the rule goes a little something like this:  No amount of heterosexual activity will be proof positive that you are heterosexual, but the one bit of homosexual evidence is enough to prove otherwise. If that’s how you want to play it, fine.  But personally I find it a pretty boring topic.

Rachel and Juliet

http://www.washingtonpost.com/gog/performing-arts/rachel-and-juliet,1155453.html No, it’s not what you think.  This is a play by Lynn Redgrave (sister of Vanessa, children of Sir Michael, if I read that right) about her mother (Rachel) and “the role that would beguile her all her life”, Juliet.

On the day his mother died, the celebrated actor Sir Michael Redgrave had a matinee and an evening performance to give as Hamlet. Backstage at the theater, he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. Then he went out front. "And he did two of the greatest Hamlets he ever played."

The article makes it sound like the father is the more interesting character, a man who was so preoccupied with other things that the birth of his child doesn’t even appear in his diary, so obsessed with the stage that on his deathbed he whispered “How’s the house?” But Lynn Redgrave already wrote that play  – Shakespeare For My Father.  This one is different, as is her relationship with her mother.

Lynn describes her mother as a funny and perceptive woman, afflicted with self-doubt. "She suffered from her lack of security, making room for my father’s career," she says. "Rachel and Juliet," then, is "a love letter" to Kempson, who retained an attachment to Juliet into her golden years: At age 90, she recited a speech of Juliet’s at the wedding of one of Lynn’s three children, daughter Pema.

I was not aware of the apparently deep connection between the Redgraves and Shakespeare.  I shall have to keep an eye out for more of that.

The Man vs The Work, Continued

I just had an idea in the comments, maybe it will help me explain my position a little better.  Bear with me for a second. Once upon a time a man by the name  of Joseph Weisenbaum wrote a book called Computer Power and Human Reason.  In it, he described something he called the “compulsive programmer”, someone who we would now call a “hacker”.  I cite this example because this is very much my life, I identify greatly with his description and when I stumbled across this particular analogy it stuck with me for life. What he said (and this is drastically paraphrased) was to imagine computer programming like a chessboard.  You’ve got a finite space, and a fixed set of rules and logic for the interaction of entities within that space.  It is a closed universe.  And yet, it is effectively infinite, and the chess master is god over that space.  That is how the compulsive programmer feels about his computers. I know *exactly* what he’s talking about there, but maybe that’s just because I’m one of them, so I hope I haven’t lost people already.  Still with me? Compare that analogy to the study of Shakespeare the man, and the body of Shakespearean work.  We end up with three different universes in which to work. The words we have (and their punctuation!) are the first finite space.  Which words were used, how often, in what combinations?  When is punctuation the core of an idea, and when is it used more or less at will?  The second “finite” space is the world described by those words.  The characters are the pieces, the words determine their moves.  And it is only our understanding of what it means to be human that we take it to the next level, making the difference between “Hamlet said this because Shakespeare said so” and “Hamlet said this because Ophelia died.”  (I imagine asking a computer AI that question and getting the first answer.)  Much like a chess set there are still effectively infinite interpretations (which is why I said “finite” like that), but they all have to be prefaced with a “maybe…but there’s my evidence why I think that.”    It is a world that still presents itself as having a finite set of rules.  Does that make sense? The third space is infinite – it is Shakespeare the man.  We don’t know why he did anything, or what he meant.  Technically we don’t even know if he existed in the form that we know as the Author.  As soon as a sentence starts with “Shakespeare meant…” or “He did this because” or “He wanted to show…” then you are in this space.  There is nothing finite about the world of Shakespeare the man.  We are playing with a partial set of rules on an infinite space.  Some people are comfortable with theorizing about how to fill the spaces, some are not. That’s why things like the Authorship question exist (not to mention the whole sexuality thing, etc etc …)   Phew.  That’s a lot to type.  Having done so, I can say it simply – it is that second space where I live.  99% of the time I see the plays as something like a roadmap / recipe of what it means to be human.   Sure, sometimes I dabble in that first space, mostly because as a software guy I have the ability to make a computer analyze the work on that level.  Almost never am I comfortable in that third space.  While it may be true that Shakespeare wrote Macbeth for specific reasons having to do with his political affiliations, that is simply of neglible interest to me other than as a curiosity.  It in no way changes my view of the play, any more than if you told me that we were all just puppets being controlled by some alien race.    There, how’s that?  Bigger can, more worms?