What's the big deal about Shakespeare?

WHY?

In between wondering why you have to study algebraic equations, the Viet Nam War, parts of a dissected fetal pig, and problems of a democratic government, you may have had opportunity to wonder why you have to study Shakespeare. If you want reasons, here are reasons:

1. He's considered to be the greatest poet in the English language, or at least among the top five in just about any list. There might be a reason for it--aren't you curious?
2. His plays have been performed, discussed, parodied, adapted and analyzed so much it's hard to escape references to them in popular culture. Would you care to meet the mastermind behind O and 10 Things I Hate About You? Have you ever read, "If you prick us, will we not bleed," or "Some have greatness thrust upon them" and wondered where the quote came from? Should you be insulted if someone compares you to Ophelia or Romeo? Are you sure you can make it through life without knowing this stuff?
3. No writer in the world has created more enduring characters. That's often said, but one reason why people like Beatrice, Juliet, Hamlet, and Falstaff seem so alive is that there has never been a definitive interpretation of them. They are never "fixed," but always flowing. What Shakespeare gives us is not "characters," so much as character itself. Hamlet (to use the most famous example) occupies a territory we might call Hamletland, with certain well-defined virtues, faults, and personality traits. But it's up to the reader thinking about him or the actor interpreting him to locate the person. Or (changing the metaphor) to create a recognizable human being out of the materials given. I can't think of any other author who demands that much participation from his audience.
4. The plays themselves are wide open as well. Most of them are simple plots told by several speakers in beautiful (sometimes frustrating) poetry. But what's the motivation of these people? What do they know and when do they know it? What's not so good about the good guys, and is there any hope for the bad guys? You decide! Created long before video games, e-books, and the Internet, this stuff is real interactive media.
5. Even though he wrote for his own time and place, with attitudes very far from ours, Shakespeare understood what it means to be human. It means doubt, despair, envy, ecstasy, rage, revenge, love, lust, triumph, tribulation and occasionally going crazy. Or feeling like it. Connecting with a character who expresses some of your own joys and sorrows is a way of reassuring yourself that you are not alone. All good literature does this; Shakespeare does it in spades.
6. Guys--it's a great way to meet girls. As Cole Porter said, Just declaim a few lines from "Othella," And they'll think you're a helluva fella."
   (from Kiss Me, Kate, copyright 1948 by Cole Porter)
   Okay--some of the girls might be weak-eyed English-teachers-in-training who stumble over things and bump into walls because they’ve always got their noses in books. But they have beautiful souls.

The enduring appeal of Shakespeare is hard to define, but I think it has something to do with mystery. Most authors inhabit their work--they bring a certain point of view, philosophy of life and quality of feeling to the characters and stories they create. These things are not exactly lacking in Shakespeare, but they're very hard to pin down. He created the structure, but he doesn't live in it. That's why his work is so open, so flexible and so rich--because he doesn't dominate it. He left room for you.

That's why you should give him a chance, just to see what all the fuss is about.

HOW?

The best way to develop an appreciation for Shakespeare is to see some good performances. The plays were written to be performed, not studied in classrooms. One of the great literary mysteries of all time (besides Who Really Wrote Shakespeare--to which I go not) is, why didn't he take any care to preserve his works? There's no such thing as an authorized version of a Shakespeare play, and if John Heminges and Henry Condell hadn't put together the First Folio, seven years after the author died, we'd probably be left only with bits and pieces. This suggests that William Shakespeare, an actor himself, was mostly interested in performance, and to him a play on the boards was worth two on the shelf.

Fortunately, several movie versions are available--see my "Shakespeare at the Movies" page. Live productions aren't that hard to come by either, especially if you live in a city big enough to have a public transportation system and a professional sports team. Touring companies, resident theater companies, little theaters, colleges and even high schools perform Shakespeare now and then (he looks good on a "past performances" list). A couple of caveats, though:

1. Shakespeare plays are hard to get into because nobody talks like that any more. In fact, they didn't talk too much like that in his time--his speech was admired for its high-flown poetry. Often it flies right out of reach for us. In addition, his vocabulary includes words we don't use any more, words that have changed meaning, and words he may have invented. SO, before you dress up and put down $20 for a theater ticket, or even run down to Blockbuster in shorts and flip-slops to rent a DVD, read a synopsis of the play so you'll know what's going on in the first scene. Even better, you might want to read an annotated version of the first scene to get a taste of the language and figure out what's being said. That's usually enough. After Act I your ear will accept Elizabethan dialogue and the momentum of the play will carry you forward, unless you are 100% Shakespeare-proof.
2. Amateur groups, such as schools and little theaters, usually handle the comedies better than the tragedies. There's more room for goofiness, improvisation and plain screw-ups in A Midsummer Night' s Dream than there would be in King Lear or Macbeth. Also, unprofessional actors tend to rattle off lines--more so toward the end of the play, when it may begin to seem like a race to see which character can get to the end first. (If speed is what you want, check out the "3-Minute Hamlet" performed by the Reduced Shakespeare Company.)

After you've seen a play, then try reading it. This still may not be easy--I get bogged down in long speeches and sometimes have to check the notes to understand the sense of what's being said. But nobody cracks better than Shakespeare once you've cracked him. Get your hands on a good annotated version, like the Riverside (most libraries have it) so you can look up those cultural references and poetic constructions you just don't get. If a whole play is too scary, try reading and analyzing just one scene, or make a comparison of scenes. Here's a list of some of my favorites, with suggestions what to watch for.

Richard III. This play is really a melodrama, and Richard is one of the world's greatest all-around villains. Shakespeare did such a good job of demonization that there are societies and websites devoted to restoring the poor king's reputation! In the play, he is crippled, ugly and unloved, which gives him some psychological motivation to lash out at the world. But he's so audacious in going about it we can't keep our eyes off him, all the while wondering, "How does he get away with it?" Read Act I, Scene 2, where he "woos" princess Anne, the widow of Prince Edward, a man he helped to kill. (It's all part of the Wars of the Roses, which I gave up trying to figure out.) Anne knows that Richard murdered her husband, and naturally loathes the sight of him, but such is his snaky charm that by the end of the scene she accepts his ring. And while she hasn't exactly said "Yes" to his proposal, both he and the audience know she will. As you read, try to find the place where Anne's defenses are worn down. What tells you that Richard has her number? Do you think she believes his professions of love? Is her surrender due to Richard's persuasive power, or her weakness, or both?

The Taming of the Shrew hasn't worn well, in some ways, because of its supposed smug view of male superiority. But modern critics often overlook the obvious fact that Katherine needs to be tamed; she's so dead-set on having her own way that she doesn't even know anymore what her way is. In Act II, Scene 1 Kate meets Petruchio, her suitor. He's already agreed to marry her for her money, but many directors make it clear that at first sight he decides she might be worth winning for herself. The scene also contains Kate's father Baptista and her sister Bianca, Bianca's two suitors who are posing as tutors, and two servants posing as masters. So it may be confusing--but stick with it. Before he even meets Kate, Petruchio decides on a courting strategy: he will insist that she is fair and gentle, even as she acts just the opposite. In the words of St. Paul, he will "call things that are not as though they were" (see Romans 4:17). Eventually it works, but we're a long way from it in this scene. Read from the beginning to Kate's exit (or read the whole scene if you can keep the characters straight). What can you tell about her family life? How do you know she's not happy? Where does Petruchio apply his strategy? In what ways are they a good match?

The Merchant of Venice is often called a "problem play," and its chief problem is the character Shylock. As a Jew in Gentile Venice, he has been mocked, cheated, and spat upon--and for a crowning insult his daughter Jessica has stolen a chest of his money and jewels and run off with a Christian. So he deserves sympathy--but he's not a sympathetic character. The trial in Act IV, Scene 1 shows him at his worst. Here's the background: Antonio, the merchant, has borrowed 3000 ducats from Shylock to give to his friend Bassanio, so that Bassanio can court the wealthy and beautiful Portia in style. But Antonio can't pay his debt to Shylock, who brings him to court to collect the pound of flesh that the merchant agreed to forfeit. Bassanio and his friends plead with Shylock to give up his bond in return for a double repayment of the debt, but he refuses. Since the law is the law, it looks hopeless for Antonio until a "learned law student" (Portia, in disguise) arrives and finds a loophole. From this scene, how would you describe the character of Shylock? Antonio? Bassanio? Portia? Gratiano? Shylock's fate at the end is disturbing to many. Do you think it's justice, or mercy? Why or why not? (See study guide for The Playmaker for more suggestions on this play.)

Romeo and Juliet. When this play is mentioned, most of us think about Juliet leaning from a balcony (or floating in a pool. But for sheer drama, nothing beats Act III, Scene 1, where Mercutio is killed by Tybalt and Tybalt by Romeo. (Think of "the rumble" in West Side Story.) This is the climax of all the baiting and mocking and casual swordplay that was set up in the very first scene of the play and continues through I, 5 and II, 4--here the violence comes to a head, and here it ends. It might even be said that this scene is the real tragedy, if we accept Aristotle's view that tragedy must result from a fatal flaw in an otherwise noble character (what happens to Romeo and Juliet afterward is just a fluke of bad timing). If Mercutio is Aristotle's kind of tragic hero, what's his flaw? What do you like and dislike about him? What's your view of Romeo in this scene--generally positive or negative? How about Tybalt? Do you think any of these three deserve what they get, at least to some degree?

A Midsummer Night's Dream. This is the kind of goofy play that even rank amateurs can successfully perform. Obviously you can have a lot of fun with the "rude mechanicals," who think they have a real shot at performing a terrible play for the Duke of Athens. Such is the enchantment at work, that their wish comes true! The play is largely about wishes coming true, though not as the wishers expect. Try this: read Act I, scene 2, then III, 1 (to Puck's entrance) and IV, 1 (short scenes, all). Bottom, Quince, Flute, Smug, Snout, and Starveling are all recognizable types--foolish in a way but lovable too. Think about these characters and how they behave, then cast the parts with people you know at school, work, or home.

Richard II. Unlike Richard III, the second Richard is no villain, but he's just as interesting in his way. The play tells the story of how he was forced to give up his crown, partly due to the aggression of his cousin Bolingbroke (who becomes Henry IV) and partly due to defects in his own character. Richard finds himself endlessly fascinating--so much that he spends more time in studying his own responses than actually responding. No scene shows the variety of his emotional life better than Act III, Scene 2, which takes place after Richard returns to England from France, only to learn that Bolingbroke has returned also, from exile. Bolingbroke is gathering an army to win back the lands that Richard confiscated from him, but the king fears his cousin won't be satisfied until he wears the crown (a fear that turns out to be correct--whatever he is, Richard isn't stupid). His mood swings are remarkable--every piece of news provokes another shift. Read the scene, and chart his journey from defiance to despair to irony . . . and how many more can you find?

Much Ado About Nothing. This is a play about love and betrayal, but since it's a comedy everything turns out okay. My favorite scenes (just about everybody's favorites, in fact) are II, 3 and III, 1, when Benedick and Beatrice realize they're in love--with the aid of a little well-meant deception from their friends. I don't think this has ever been done better than in Kenneth Branaugh's movie version. Watch that first, then read the scenes at least twice. Pretend you are the director, and imagine how you would stage a cynical version of the scene (where Beatrice and Benedick are being manipulated by their friends, and really aren't that well matched, and will be miserable together). Facial expressions, gestures between the characters and voice inflections would be very different from the movie. Can you make it work? Would you want to?

Henry IV, Parts One and Two. This is my favorite history play, and not just because of Falstaff. I think there are lots of interesting characters here: Hotspur, Owen Glendower, Justice Shallow, King Henry himself, and Prince Hal. Still, the relationship between Hal and Falstaff is the continuing story in both plays, and there's no definitive version. Is Hal a cold, calculating Machiavelli, ready to dump his friends as soon as he has no use for them? Or does he genuinely love Falstaff, and gives him up only because of the higher call of duty? In Part One read Act II, Scene 4, then compare with the final scene in Part Two, and see what you think. Here's the setup for II, 4: Falstaff and his gang have cooked up a plan to rob some Canterbury pilgrims on the road, but Hal and Poins, who pretend to go along with the scheme, disguise themselves and rob Falstaff of the loot he has taken. Then they ride to the Boar's Head Tavern, their rendezvous, to wait for Falstaff to show up. The scene is long but funny, with a bittersweet ending. What's going on under the horseplay when Falstaff pretends to be Hal's father, and then Hal himself takes that role? How does Hal let Falstaff know what's going to happen to their friendship? Is the warning brutal or merciful? Does Falstaff take the hint? The final scene of Part Two will answer that question, but what do you think Hal's attitude really is, now that he's King Henry V? (See study guide for The True Prince for more suggestions about this play.)

Henry V. The St. Crispian's Day speech is the highlight of this play for many--a stirring call to battle that could rouse a corpse. But before you read that (Act IV, Scene 3), turn back to Act IV, Scene 1. The exhausted and outnumbered English are bedding down for the night, knowing that a mighty French army is preparing to chew them up and spit them out the following day. King Henry, who got them into this mess, is patrolling the camp in disguise, eavesdropping on conversations to gauge the mood of his men. Some, like Fluellen, are gung-ho; others, like Pistol, have grudges to settle. John Bates, Alexander Court, and Michael Williams are ordinary guys who expect to be killed or maimed in the battle. Still incognito, Henry joins their conversation, which develops into an ethical discussion of who bears the greatest responsibility for death in war--the leaders, or the soldiers who do most of the killing? Try to summarize each man's position. Do you see any part of the conversation reflected in King's soliloquy and prayer that follows? From this scene, and the St. Crispin's Day speech of IV, 3, how would you evaluate the quality of his leadership?

Hamlet. Where do you start? This is the most famous play in the world, and the most famous character, and no one has figured him out yet. Hamlet is brilliant, witty, inventive, angry, vindictive, emotionally instable . . . also cynical and idealistic, impulsive and hesitant, devious and totally sincere. But when is he what? I, for one, don't think he is seriously mad, but there are times when his own personality makes him a little crazy. Actors who try to play him and scholars who try to analyze him can sympathize. If you want to tackle it, I would suggest these scenes: I, 2 (beginning with the "O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt" soliloquy); I, 4&5 (Hamlet meets Ghost); II, 2 (beginning with Hamlet's entrance); III, 2 (from his entrance to his exit); III, 2 (from the entrance of Rosencranz and Gildenstern); and III, 4 (Hamlet and his Mom). This still leaves a third of the play to go, but if you're trying to understand this character, it's a good start. Notice particularly the many references Hamlet makes to truth and deception.

Julius Caesar doesn't seem as highly regarded these days as it used to be, perhaps because it was the play that many contemporary directors had to read in high school. But it's the play that introduced me to Shakespeare (see FAQs), so I think it's great. It's more a study of politics than character, and anyone who imagines that ancient Rome has nothing to tell the contemporary political scene should read Marc Antony's funeral speech several times during a major campaign. Julius Caesar is actually about his assassination and the fallout from it. Read Act I, Scene 2 to discover how the plot was set in motion. Cassius is the instigator, but he draws Brutus in easily enough--why? How does Cassius make use of Brutus's noble character? How would you describe the character of Cassius, Caesar, and Casca in this scene? The assassination (Act III, Scene 1) is high drama--as you read it, try to visualize the facial expressions of each character as he speaks. Finally, if you're up for more, compare Brutus's funeral oration with Mark Antony's in Act III, Scene 2. Antony's speech is a great lesson on How to Sway A Mob--if you have political aspirations, study it closely.

Twelfth Night. During Elizabethan times, "Twelfth Night" (twelve days after Christmas) was a celebration when servants became masters, students became teachers and "lords of misrule" presided over activities that were normally illegal. There's the same sense of displacement in the play of that name: the fool is wise, the respectable man is a fool. Almost everyone who's in love is in love with the wrong person for the wrong reason: Viola loves Orsino, who loves Olivia, who loves Viola; in addition Malvolio and Sir Andrew are pursuing Olivia and Antonio appears to have a crush on Sebastian. The use and misuse of words is another theme; in Act III, Scene 1, Feste identifies himself as a "corrupter of words," and throughout the play characters are deceiving themselves and others by high-sounding sentiments. In the end, everything sorts out and falls into place. Read the last scene (all of Act V) and notice how the plot is given its final twist. Then mark each place where it untwists, until all identities are known and couples sorted out as they are supposed to be. (Read a synopsis of the play or see the movie first, or else you won't make sense of it.)

Othello. Iago is considered one of Shakespeare's greatest villains (Richard III being the other) because he appears to have little or no motivation for the evil he does; he's just evil. Othello himself is more of a tragic hero: a good man with a fatal flaw that brings him down. Othello's flaw, on the surface, is jealousy--but is there anything behind it? Act III, Scene 3 is called the "temptation scene," for it's here that Iago first plants the suspicion in Othello's mind that will inexorably lead to tragedy. Iago's carefully constructed plot involves the manipulation of several other people, including his own wife. First he maneuvers Lt. Cassio, Othello's second-in-command, into starting a brawl, for which Cassio is demoted. Then Iago encourages the distraught lieutenant to ask Othello's beautiful young bride Desdemona to intervene for him. Cassio is doing just that when the scene opens. Read from the beginning of the scene to Iago's exit. How does he first raise doubts about Desdemona's virtue? How does he nurture those doubts? Is he stoking Othello's jealously all by himself, or is Othello complicit at all? (Don't try this with your friends.)

King Lear. The world's most depressing play: foolishness, pride and revenge lead to madness, death and disillusionment. If there is a ray of light anywhere, it's in Cordelia's unspoiled love for her father and Kent's unshaken loyalty. Lear himself is a pitiful figure, but since he brought misfortune on himself, even our pity is compromised. To see how he set himself up for destruction, read Act I, Scene I, to the entrance of France and Burgundy. What are Lear's mistakes? Why do you think he makes them? The scene opens with a brief conversation between Kent and Gloucester (usually pronounced "Glah-ster"), where Gloucester makes light of his illegitimate son, Edmund ("Yes, he's a bastard, but I had fun making him, ha ha"). He, like Lear, is another foolish father, and Edmund will turn out to be one of the villains of the play--can you see any reason why in this scene?

Act III, Scene 6 is one of the most heartbreaking in all literature. In spite of his best resolutions, Lear has descended into madness due to the cruelty of his two eldest daughters. Kent has returned from exile in disguise and Edgar, Gloucester's legitimate son who has been falsely accused of treason, is also in disguise as "Tom of Bedlam," a poor madman. The Fool is still the Fool. With this curious entourage, Lear takes refuge in an abandoned hut on Gloucester's property, and enacts a trial against his daughters. In what ways does this scene parallel the first?

Macbeth. Plenty of havoc and destruction here, too, but with witches thrown in! Other Shakespeare plays contain supernatural elements, but this is the only one that mucks around in witchcraft--one reason for the tradition among theater people that this play dares not speak its name (cast and crew members, when rehearsing and performing Macbeth, are supposed to call it "The Scottish Play," or else very bad stuff will happen). The three weird sisters set things in motion in Act I, Scene 3 by making certain predictions to Macbeth that throw his mind into an uproar. Or would his mind have uproared eventually anyway? The great question is, do we make our destiny, or does our destiny make us? Macbeth is aware of this conundrum from the beginning. Act I, Scene 3 is his first entrance: how would you describe him? What purpose does Banquo appear to serve? If you were casting this play, how would you present the witches--malevolent spirits? deluded souls? crazy bag ladies? supernatural beings, or mad prophets?

Antony and Cleopatra. Finally, a nice little romance--not! The title characters are co-ruler of Rome and queen of Egypt, who fall tempestuously in love and create a vortex of self-centered passion that destroys not only themselves but also their closest friends and followers. Not a pretty sight, but it does make for good drama. In the course of the play, Antony alienates himself from Octavius and Lepidus, his co-rulers in Rome, and plots with Cleopatra to establish a Roman-Egyptian empire with themselves at the head. Octavius (Caesar) doesn't go for this idea, and war looms. Act IV, Scenes 1-4 depict the gathering storm, and how all the principals react to it. Read these scenes (they're short) and notice how the dramatic tension builds. What is Antony's attitude to the approaching conflict? What is Cleopatra's? What attractive qualities can you see in them, that inspires loyalty in their followers? Often these parts are taken by young attractive actors, but historically, both Anthony and Cleopatra were past their prime at the time. Imagine a couple of young and hot actors in these roles, then re-cast them with . . . I don't know, Mel Gibson and Meryl Streep. How does your understanding of the scene change?

The Winter's Tale. This is one of those plays (The Tempest is another) that falls in an uncertain category, neither tragedy nor comedy. Sometimes it's called a tragi-comedy, sometimes a romance--it ends happily, but not without a few deaths along the way. The linchpin of the story is Leontes, king of Bohemia, who without any material cause whatsoever begins to suspect his faithful wife Hermoine of adultery with none other than his best friend, King Polixenes of Sicily. His mad jealousy leads to death and misery, but in that are the seeds of grace and redemption. All this is set in motion in Act I, Scene 2. It's a long scene, but there are lots of interesting little by-plays between characters. How does Leontes act with his friend and wife at the beginning? When does his attitude toward them change? Do you think this is a sudden revelation to him, or could it have been building? Does he show any defects of character that might lead to unreasonable jealousy? How does he act with his noblemen? With his son? (See study guide for The Playmaker for further suggestions about this play.)

The Tempest. Many of the plays have fantastic elements, but this one is a fantasy from first to last. Shakespeare supposedly received his inspiration from the real account of a shipwreck on the island of Bermuda. From that story comes this tale of an enchanted island where Prospero, once the Duke of Milan deposed by his treacherous brother, now resides. Most of the action of the play is influenced by his magic--he punishes his brother, marries his daughter to a handsome prince, and gets himself restored to his rightful place as Duke of Milan. With these purposes accomplished, he gives up his magic books and sets free the spirits who served him. Since this was one of Shakespeare's last plays, if not the last, it's irresistible to see him as Prospero, giving up his magic stage in order to return to a quiet, normal life in Stratford. The play's most beautiful lines occur in Act 4, Scene 1. The setting is a wedding "masque" arranged by Prospero for his daughter Miranda and Prince Ferdinand. A masque is a solemn dance performed by actors dressed as gods or mythical figures. For his last bash Prospero summons the real thing: Iris, Ceres, and Juno, goddesses of the rainbow, the harvest, and the hearth. At the end of the masque comes the speech beginning, "Our revels now are ended" (start at line 148). Read the speech and compare with the Epilogue, also spoken by Prospero. How might these words reflect Shakespeare's thoughts? Compare with Puck's speech at the end of A Midsummer Night's Dream. What similarities do you see?

These questions, thought experiments and comparisons don't suggest everything there is to think about a play, or even a single scene within a play. The possibilities for interpretation could keep you busy for a lifetime--and I haven't even mentioned Measure For Measure, Coriolanus, As You Like It, and the rest. "That's nice," you might be thinking, "but all I want to do is get through this semester of English lit." Got it. But what literature is supposed to do is open your mind to other ways of looking at the world, as well as express thoughts and feelings you didn't even know you had. About 400 years ago, a country boy from Stratford managed to think and feel for the whole world. Maybe you ought to check him out.