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.

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?

http://www.millsworks.net/blog/2009/04/05/shakespeares-whos-on-first/ I don’t even have time to go through all the embedded video on this one post alone, but let me hit you with the highlights: * Shakespeare Who’s On First * Looking for Richard * Theatre of Blood * The Flying Karamazov Brothers’ Comedy Of Errors with a whole bunch of other references in the text tying it all together.  Great stuff.

We’ve been doing the sonnets lately, and I happened to see a reference to #73 today on Twitter.  So, why not? That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish’d by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
  Honestly I’ve never even looked at this one until now, so any analysis here is off the top of my head.  Disclaimer, I might be totally incorrect! When we talked about “forty winters” we saw that Shakespeare deliberately chose certain seasons to paint the picture he wants.  So, what season is he talking about the openly lines? Brilliantly he doesn’t just say it, he describes it: “that time of year when a few yellow leaves are left on the trees, whose branches shake in the cold wind.”  Sounds like autumn to me.  What’s more, it puts you right there.  Who hasn’t woken up one cold fall morning to exactly that feeling?  There are times (particularly for those of us here in foliage heavy New England) where you can look forward to fall – the changing colors, the coming holidays, the start of school, seeing friends you haven’t seen in months.  But on more mornings than not, you’re most likely thinking “Blah, summer’s over and pretty soon it’s going to be winter.” This sonnet is fairly depressing in that respect.  The poet is telling the “fair youth”, “This is how you see me – as a man in the autumn of my life.”  Someone who is going to die one day.  The whole sonnet is like that, actually.  “I remind you of sunsets, and the coming darkness of night.  In me you see the ashes that remain of what was once the fire of youth.” The whole thing sounds pretty self serving, like the poet was having a bad day.  It’s not like he’s saying “You called me old” or even “I can see on your face how you think of me.”  Everything the poet says about “this is what you think” is really, “this is what I think you think.”  In other words, “This is what I think of myself and I’m projecting that onto you.  I am upset about my own age and wasted youth.” If there is an optimistic bit here, it comes in the last two lines:  “You see in me what it means to get old, it makes you appreciate your own youth more because you know that you too will have to give it up someday.” What I find unusual, and I’m sure my experts will enlighten me on this one, is that there’s no reference to the relationship between the two men.   The poet never says why the youth would see him any differently than any other individual.  At first I thought that the love reference in the second to last line referred to the love of the youth for the poet, but in context it does not, it refers to a love on one’s fleeting youth. …and you know what?  As I read that it looks like it could well refer to the poet.  “Your feelings for me are stronger because you realize now that I’m not going to be around forever.”    That’s enough from me, for now.   Let’s see if this one gets as much chatter as the iambic pentameter one 🙂

Twice this week I heard stories about people pulling a quote from Shakespeare and using it to make a point that almost certainly was way off base from what the original intended.  But interesting conversation is always good, no? The first (thanks, amusings_bnl!) was this one:

To thine own self be true.

Everybody knows that one, right?  Apparently when looked at from the right angle, it could also mean something like this:  “As long as you think it’s ok, then go ahead and do it.”  That in turn opens up the whole interpretation of living a selfish life, only looking out for #1, and so on.  The other one I just saw on Twitter, where somebody posted:

Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!

Apparently making a statement about the state of the world today.  In this case I pointed out that in context, the “devils” really turn out to be spirit Ariel, who in fact is watching over them and does not let them come to any harm at all.  So perhaps someone with a religious bone in their body (not really my strong suit) could run with that, make some bolder statements about God and how things around us that look like darkest days actually turn out ok?  Sitting here right now I could actually imagine the priest doing that topic as a sermon on Sunday morning.  And I might actually listen :). Got any others?  Pick a quote and argue that it means what you want it to mean.