What exactly is the nature of art? It’s a big question, no doubt. One that we struggle with constantly, trying to find the line between the value inherent in what Shakespeare gave us, and any given interpretation. Although much the same battle rages every time a cover song comes out — does the cover surpass the original? Can it, ever? Matter of opinion.
So, here’s the thing. I just finished Marco and the Red Granny, the latest podcast from Mur Lafferty. It’s short (7 episodes), it’s complete (so you can get it all at once), and it’s available in ebook if you prefer to read. Highly recommended. In this story, Mur imagined a world where art is multisensory – you see a painting of a thunderstorm and taste hot chocolate with marshmallows. You put on a fancy new shirt and feel the anger of having a fight with your spouse. It’s science fiction, of course. But it’s a fascinating idea.
It was with that story in mind that I returned to this ongoing idea of page and stage, whether reading Shakespeare has value, or whether he must be performed. I compared acting Shakespeare to grabbing some brushes and canvas and trying to paint your own Mona Lisa….but it’s not the same. There’s one Mona Lisa, we can all see it, it doesn’t change.
But is that a good thing? Shakespeare’s words don’t change, but we’re quick to point out that that’s not the same — how you *say* them (and why and where…) always changes, and that’s part of its nature.
Is that the way it should be, or simply the way it is? What if it was different? We’ll never know why Mona Lisa is smiling. What if we did? What if, in Mur’s world, simply looking at the painting could impart to you exactly what she was thinking? What if the very nature of reading Shakespeare’s works made you experience the same rush of emotions that Hamlet does? Technically, I suppose, it does … but in each case it’s merely your own brain doing it for you, it’s not like the creator could leap through his medium and stick those emotions into your brain.
A related example – the invention of film as a medium did not kill theatre. On the contrary, theatre fans are quick to point out all the places where theatre is still superior. When I saw Macbeth? The power went out. Scared us silly. Oh, yeah? Well I saw King Lear during a thunderstorm, it was amazing! I saw Timon of Athens and the person behind me unwrapped hard candy the whole time, I hated it. Film can’t do that.
I’ll give you an even simpler example. Books, particularly old books, smell. eBooks do not. This is enough, in many people’s minds, to brush aside the rise of ebooks and swear that nothing will ever replace a “real” book. In its own way, that is the exact same argument. Where, exactly, is the value in reading a book? Is it to impart the information contained in the words on the page? Or is it the whole multisensory experience associated with how old you were when you read it, what the book looked and smelled like, how it made you feel, etc….?
I don’t know where I”m going with this, really. Bit of a ramble. Trying to decide whether or not our inability to capture all those things is a good thing, a bad thing, or only a matter of time.

“Let’s ban Shakespeare,” says Helen Mirren,

Got your attention? 🙂 What she actually said was to ban reading Shakespeare in class, and start taking kids to plays instead. I don’t know that anybody here is going to disagree with that.
At least, not totally ;). I’ve always felt that people feel the need to take sides in the “see, don’t read” war. In truth the answer can only ever be, both. If you see a live show of Hamlet once in your life and never think about it again, consider how little you really got out of it. You probably missed half the dialog. You certainly missed any bits that this particular interpretation chose to excise. And you’re left thinking that Hamlet is a whiny git because this guy happened to play him that way.
See it, yes, *and* read it. Stop with the either/or nonsense. By seeing performance you are doing two things – you are getting closer to the source material, but you are also seeing one particular group’s interpretation of that source material. Here’s the beautiful thing — every time you see it? The first bit remains the same, you get closer to the source material. But the second changes every time.
You know how else you can get close to the source material? Read it. 🙂 As long as you understand that reading the text for yourself is just another tool in your arsenal, another step in your journey, then I don’t see where all the hating comes from.

[ Apologies for the slur, just trying to turn a phrase ;). And me mother’s name is Daly, my daddy’s name is Moran, so I’m as Irish as they come! ]
New research out of Scandinavia adds a piece to the puzzle of Hamlet’s source material – by linking the name “Hamlet”, via Snow Bear’s “Amlothi”, to an Irish story called The Destruction of Da Derga’s Hostel, featuring a character named “Admlithi”. That extra D, the story is quick to point out, is silent.
From there Dr. Lisa Collinson makes the connection between this name and sea monsters, and then to Hamlet’s “sea of troubles.” Although I think that last one is a bit of a stretch :).
It’s an interesting idea, I suppose, but I’ve never been that interested in the history. Would new research in this area make you change your understanding of Shakespeare’s Hamlet? Is there any possibility at all that if this story is true, that Shakespeare actually would have known and understood the original story?

I’ll let him tell it

I’ve been sitting on this particular piece of news for a couple weeks, but the official announcement went out today. My original Caesar/Brutus play, EVE OF IDES, has been chosen for a reading at the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey this September, as part of their Lend Us Your Ears play reading series. The reading will be directed by the amazing and talented Rick Sordelet.

Congratulations to The Master Of Verona, and go see it if you can!