Tag: plays

Review 2666: Classics Club Spin Result! ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore

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I have to admit I picked this play for my Classics Club list because knowledge of the plot was a major clue in the first Midsomer book, The Killings at Badger’s Drift. A clue that I missed.

John Ford was a playwright in the Jacobean and Caroline eras. Really nothing is known about him, and although I took a graduate course in drama that started with Christopher Marlowe and included Jonson, Kidd, Webster, and Tourneur, he was never mentioned. He was a famous playwright during the reign of Charles I, and his plays usually deal with the tension between passion and the laws of society. ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore is his best-known play, and despite its subject matter, it is regarded as a classic of English literature.

And this is truly a gruesome play, with few redeeming characters. The drama is around a situation that evolves immediately in Act I. Arabella is a beauty of Parma who is courted by several noblemen. But it is Giovanni, her own brother, who wins her, and their relationship is consummated at the end of Act I. Spicy stuff!

Arabella is being courted by Soranto, but he has his own drama. He once seduced Hippolyta with promises of marriage if her husband died. Her husband now lost and believed to be dead, her reputation is ruined for nothing, because Soranto has dropped her. When she confronts him, he calls her a few bad names. She wants her revenge, and Vasquez, Soranto’s Iago-like servant, pretends to be sympathetic only to learn her plans.

As could be expected but apparently isn’t, Arabella finds herself in a situation where she has to get married. She reluctantly agrees to marry Soranto.

Interestingly, we seem to be expected to sympathize with Arabella and Giovanni. Certainly, there aren’t any other nicer characters. The Cardinal favors a Roman nobleman after he murders a man, and the Priest, who has been Giovanni’s confidante, runs away when things get dicey. Arabella’s governess apparently sees nothing wrong in her having an affair with her brother.

No one goes unpunished, but the fate of the women is much more gruesome than that of the men.

I thought the play was surprisingly readable and went very quickly. It doesn’t have beautiful speeches like Shakespeare, but it is partially in verse. I am sure its audiences found it very exciting.

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Review 2587: Luckier Than Most

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Luckier Than Most is an autobiography by David Tomlinson, the stage and screen actor. Although I felt handicapped as an American reading this because I wasn’t familiar with many of the names he mentioned, I found it a pleasant read, and Tomlinson comes across as a good and patient person. Americans are probably most familiar with his comic work for Disney Studios, particularly in Mary Poppins or Bedknobs and Broomsticks. Although often a comic performer, he had serious stage roles as well.

Although some of his theater stories are interesting (and I noted that he rarely said a bad thing about anyone and was just as likely to say nice things about a crew member or understudy as he is about a star), I found most interesting his recollections of his childhood. Although fond of his mother, he and his brothers were terrified of their father, who was not affectionate and had a terrible temper. His father disliked David and told him he wasn’t going to amount to anything. He was hiding a big secret, hinted at from near the beginning of the book but not hard to guess, even though David and his brothers didn’t discover it until they were adults.

Later on, with David’s success and again with his discovery to CST (what the brothers called their father) that they knew his secret, David’s relationship to his father improved. CST even admitted that he had misjudged him.

The book is also interesting because of its light, well-intentioned stories about well-known figures. It was surprising, for example, to learn that Peter Sellers needed people around him all the times because he was an insomniac and had no hobbies or other resources for his spare time. The only person Tomlinson said anything negative about was the actor Jack Lord, who played in the original Hawaii Five-O.

If you want a book that dishes the dirt, this isn’t it, but if you want a nice, light read, it is.

I received this book from the publisher in exchange for a free and fair review.

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Review 2585: Literary Wives! The Constant Wife

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Today is another review for the Literary Wives blogging club, in which we discuss the depiction of wives in fiction. If you have read the book, please participate by leaving comments on any of our blogs.

We also welcome another member to our group! Becky Chapman is a new member from Australia. You can see her bio on my Literary Wives page. Welcome, Becky!

Be sure to read the reviews and comments of the other wives!

My Review

The Constant Wife is a play by Maugham, a social comedy that is reminiscent of one of Wilde’s. It is witty and reflects some interesting attitudes about marriage and faithfulness. It is set completely in Constance Middleton’s drawing room.

The play begins with the revelation that most of Constance’s friends and relatives think her husband John is being unfaithful with her best friend, Marie-Louise Durham. Constance’s sister Martha wants to tell her, but her mother, Mrs. Culver, does not. In any case, once the matter is hinted at, Constance refuses to hear and says she is sure John is faithful to her.

John and Marie-Louise are having an affair, though, and it turns out Constance knows. She has been maintaining the status quo, but when the truth comes out, it turns out she has some unusual ideas about marriage, especially for the time. At the same time, Bernard, a former suitor of Constance’s, returns from years in China.

The play is meant as a light diversion, I think, but its ending was probably considered pleasantly shocking at the time.

I try hard not to judge works out of their time, but although the script is undoubtedly witty, it reflects some attitudes that made me wince. Here’s one that seemed so strange it was funny. I’m not sure what early 20th century British people of a certain class thought feminism was, but in an early speech Mrs. Culver says she told a friend whose husband was unfaithful that it was her fault because she wasn’t attractive enough. (Ouch! But that idea was still around when I was growing up.) What made me laugh, although I don’t think it was meant to be funny, was that Constance in response asks her if she’s not “what they call a feminist.” Maybe it was meant to be funny. Hmm.

What does this book say about wives or about the experience of being a wife?

I think a discussion of this topic probably involves spoilers, which I try to avoid. But here goes.

This play comments in several ways about marriage and fidelity. First, there is the idea that it’s okay and expected for a man to cheat, expressed by Mrs. Culver. The corollary to that is that it is not okay for the wife. Martha does not agree. She thinks both should be faithful. Constance’s attitudes are more complex.

At first, Constance wants to maintain the status quo of her marriage by ignoring the situation. Then when she is forced to acknowledge her husband’s infidelity, she does and says some surprising things. She is very matter of fact about it and expresses the idea that they were lucky because they both fell out of love at the same time. John, more conventionally, affects to love her still.

Constance has been offered a place with a successful decorating business by her friend Barbara, which she originally turned down. Now, she decides to take it, eventually explaining that John’s rights over her have to do with him supporting her, so she wants to be independent. And a year later, there is more to come.

I’m not sure whether Maugham was making serious points about marriage and the relationships between the sexes or just trying to shock and be funny. The upshot of the play is what’s good for the goose is good for the gander—or the other way around.

There are still lots of implicit messages in the play:

  • That women are still property, based on their being supported by men. And Constance discounts running a house and caring for children as if it were nothing
  • That once love has calmed, marriage is basically a financial arrangement
  • That women are more interesting when they’re unobtainable than when they are present and faithful

These are the women’s attitudes, mind you (although I keep reminding myself that this play is written by a man). John isn’t that much heard from, except his cowardly request for Constance to break up with Marie-Louise for him and his conventional assertions that he still loves Constance.

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Review 1682: Titus Andronicus

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I knew nothing about Titus Andronicus except that it is a blood bath. And it is, too, with rape, murder, dismemberment, and a woman being served her sons’ corpses in a pie.

The introduction to the play in my Riverside edition points out that the play was long poorly regarded and even by some thought not to be the work of Shakespeare. But more lately its reputation has been rehabilitated.

Titus Andronicus is a Roman general who has been fighting the Goths for years—having lost 20 sons in battle—when he returns to Rome. The emperor has recently died, and the citizens of Rome want to elect Titus, but he gives his support to the emperor’s brother Saturninus, who is duly elected but resents Titus for this.

In rapid succession and a confusing first scene, Saturninus says he will marry Titus’s daughter Lavinia while openly ogling Tamora, the captured queen of the Goths that Titus has brought back with him. Titus has just sacrificed her son to thank the gods for his triumph. Then Bassianus, the brother of Saturninus, comes in and claims Lavinia as his own, supported by some of Titus’s sons. Titus kills his own son Mutius for acting against the emperor. Although Saturninus rebukes Titus for slaughtering his own son, he still banishes Titus’s other sons for supporting Bassianus’s claim to Lavinia.

Saturninus marries Tamora, and she begins to plot her revenge against Titus for killing her son, aided by her lover, the villainous Moor Aaron. Aaron convinces Tamora’s sons Demetrius and Chiron to murder Bassianus and rape Lavinia during a hunt. They improve upon this plan by cutting off her tongue and hands, and then they frame Titus’s sons for Bassianus’s murder. More villainy follows, but once Titus has had enough, he gets his own revenge.

There aren’t very many striking passages in this play, but it is very tightly plotted. I could see some similarities to Coriolanus, another Roman revenge tragedy. I think the play might be quite horrifying and effective when performed. This play is one of the last books on my second Classics Club list.

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Review 1674: The Duchess of Malfi

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The Duchess of Malfi is a widow, and her brother Ferdinand does not want her to remarry, so that he will eventually inherit her estate. So, he sets a spy on her, Bosola.

Despite Bosola’s efforts, the Duchess marries her steward, Antonio. It’s not clear what would have happened if she had picked someone closer to her station, but this choice outrages her brothers. (Oddly enough, Bosola doesn’t report that she has a lover until she has three children by him.)

At first, the brothers think the Duchess has been whoring around, but the situation isn’t improved by their finding out she is actually married. Ferdinand has her imprisoned in rooms of her castle, and things get worse from there.

When I studied 17th century drama, these plays were called revenge tragedies, but the introduction to my very old Mermaid edition calls them Tragedies in Blood. Since pretty much all the main characters are dead by the end, this is a fitting name.

Webster’s play is a bit rough around the edges. Certainly, it doesn’t have the power of Shakespeare or even Marlowe, and most of it is in prose. Still, there are some effective moments. I think this play is probably much more moving when performed rather than read. I read this play for my Classics Club list.

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Review 1656: Edward II

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I haven’t read any Christopher Marlowe plays since college, so when I made up my Classics Club list, I picked Edward II, because I didn’t remember reading it. And it’s true, it didn’t ring any bells except through reading fiction about his reign until I got to the part about the line in Latin that could be read in two ways.

The play begins with the return, after Edward’s accession, of his favorite Gaveston, who had been banished to France. Edward has summoned him with a love letter, and Gaveston tells us straight out that he’s going to use Edward’s homosexuality to manipulate him. And he does. Almost the first thing Edward does is throw the Bishop of Coventry into jail and give all his possessions to Gaveston. Although Mortimer, in particular, is bothered by how “basely born” Gaveston is, the main complaint is his greed: “While soldiers mutiny for want of pay/He wears a lord’s revenue on his back.” Basically, he’s bankrupting the kingdom.

Further, Edward is slighting his queen, Isabella of France, who seems at first an innocent victim. But things are going to get a lot more interesting.

In Marlowe’s plays, government is usually corrupt. He’s not very interested in appeasing power. Usually, this corruption is a result of greed or sex—in this case both.

I have always found Shakespeare to be a great deal more poetic than Marlowe, but Marlowe’s plays have their power. This one also has the benefit of being a great deal more true to the actual events than most of Shakespeare’s history plays are, but of course Shakespeare was interested in appeasing power.

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Review 1404: All’s Well That Ends Well

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Although All’s Well That Ends Well is grouped with Shakespeare’s comedies, the introduction to my edition says that, like Measure for Measure, it is a problem play. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but Wikipedia says it applies to ambiguity and a shift in tone between darkness and light.

The actions in this play by Count Bertram bear many resemblances to those of Shakespeare’s patron, the Earl of Southhampton, who was made to marry a girl he didn’t want. Helena, the ward of the Countess of Rousillon, is the daughter of a physician and so is inferior in position—or at least he thinks so—to Count Bertram, the Countess’s son. Yet, she is in love with him.

When the Count goes to the court of France, Helena follows. The King is deathly ill, and she offers him a cure of her father’s. He agrees, if it works, to marry her to the single lord of her choosing.

Of course, the cure works, and she chooses Count Bertram. Forced to marry her, the young man leaves for war in Italy vowing never to consummate the marriage.

Frankly, this later play is not one of Shakespeare’s best. Its main theme is the disagreement between young and old, as everyone in the play who is older thinks Bertram is an idiot to reject such a virtuous, lovely bride, and also the part that status plays in marriage as opposed to character. The play has no rolling speeches, however, and pretty much just gets down to doing its job.

From the modern viewpoint, it’s fairly easy to see why this play isn’t presented as often as others. I read it before I went to see it at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. Mainly, Count Bertram is pretty despicable despite his change of heart at the end. First, he rejects Helena just because of her social status, even though she is beloved by his mother and the King. Later, he attempts to seduce a virtuous Italian girl of good family, Diana, even promising to marry her despite being already married. When she pursues him to France, he lies about her, saying she is a camp bawd. What a great guy. Obviously, all would be well if Helena didn’t end up with him at the end, at least for Helena. But that’s the 21st century view.

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Day 1274: The 1944 Club! No Exit

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Cover for No ExitThe 1944 Club crept up on me. I found I didn’t have time to read anything very long, so I decided to reread Jean-Paul Sartre’s No Exit. When I say reread, I mean that I must have read the play before, as I own a copy of it and took a course in Absurdist drama that included it. However, I don’t really remember it except that I knew the premise, which is famous, going in.

Sartre himself wasn’t exactly an Absurdist but an Existentialist who believed that people can define their own essence. That done, though, they must be authentic to that essence.

In No Exit, three people are locked in a room. They are dead, and they are in hell, but hell is not like what they expect. Inez is a lesbian who is attracted to Estelle. Estelle is a beautiful young woman who needs the attention of men. Garcin is a journalist who is preoccupied with the fear that he was a coward after he deserted because of principle.

I’m sure that No Exit was shocking and controversial in its day, but I found it predictable and sexist. The arguments among the characters that provoke the conflict and lead to the famous conclusion “Hell is other people” seem contrived, and Garcin is the only character who is even slightly sympathetic. To me, the women seem stereotypical—Inez as the woman who hates men and Estelle as the cloying dependent type.

So, I’m not sure how well this play translates to the modern day. I think I generally have problems with works that are about ideas rather than actual people, and these characters do not seem like real people to me.

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Day 1151: Henry VI, Part III

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Cover of Henry VI Part IIIHenry VI, Part III must have been a difficult play to write, because it telescopes the major events of years into five acts. Its action is a little tiresome, as one side of the conflict is in the ascendent, then another. However, the longer speeches in this early play are beginning to show Shakespeare’s stuff. And certainly, for audiences of the day, who didn’t know their history, it was probably exciting.

The play opens where Part II left off. Henry has just been defeated by the Yorkists at the first battle of St. Albans. Shortly thereafter, he makes a deal with York that allows him to rule during his lifetime but makes York his heir. But both York and Queen Margaret soon break the vow. York is preparing to resume conflict so that he can be king when Queen Margaret attacks in an effort to protect her son’s rights.

What was most interesting to me in this play is the depiction of several of the main characters. Queen Margaret is a real viper and is reviled by several characters, even though she is just trying to protect her son. In fact, I believe it was this play in part that was responsible for her reputation in history.

Although Henry is depicted as saintly and all for peace, he is not shown as mentally incapacitated, as he was for much of his life. Warwick, despite changing sides and being ultimately on the wrong one (as far as the Tudors are concerned), is rather heroic. And Gloucester, later Richard III, is set up beautifully for the subsequent play, Richard III.

All in all, I thought that the second play moved along better. I was glad to contrast this trilogy with the other reading I have done on the Wars of the Roses.

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Day 1118: Henry VI, Part II

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Cover for Henry VI, Part IIJust by coincidence, I began reading Conn Iggulden’s Wars of the Roses series right around the same time as I started reading these three plays about Henry VI. I found it interesting that Iggulden’s first book, Stormbird, begins almost exactly in the same place as does Henry VI, Part II. Suffolk has brokered Henry’s marriage to Margaret of Anjou, but Henry’s nobles are shocked to learn that the price is to return the provinces of Maine and Anjou to France. Further, the French are not even paying a dowry.

As with Part I, Henry isn’t much of a character in this play, the intent of which is to tell the events of his reign. But whereas he was a child in the first play, this absence in Part II helps to signify his ineffectuality as a ruler. When we see him, he is kindly, but he is unable even to keep his nobles from fighting in his presence.

Besides the struggle for power among the nobles, we are witness to some of the important events in the King’s reign. These include the disgrace of the Duchess of Gloucester and the murder of her husband, the disgrace and murders of Suffolk and Somerset, and Jack Cade’s rebellion.

This play is supposed to be the best of the three Henry VI plays, and apparently Shakespeare’s contemporaries found it exciting because they were unaware of their history. Especially at the beginning, it certainly provides a cogent explanation of the problems of Henry’s realm. Unfortunately, he was not the man to handle them.

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