Deer in the Headlights

Our source begins in Cymbeline, Act III, Scene IV. The context: Posthumous has been conspirin' and hatin' on Imogen and she's had enough. Posthumous is in exile and Imogen insists that Pisanio should carry out his orders and 'end her life'.

We pick up at about...line 89 or so...

Imogen-

...--Prithee, dispatch: The lamb entreats the butcher: where's thy knife? Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding, When I desire it too.

Pisanio-

O gracious lady, Since I received command to do this business I have not slept one wink.

Imogen-

Do't and to bed then.

Pisanio-

I'll wake mine eyeballs out first.

Imogen-

Wherefore, then, Didst undertake it?...[yada yada yada]...Why has thou gone so far, To be unbent when thou hast ta'en thy stand, Th'elected deer before thee?

Here we have a deer in the headlights. This is what popped into my head after reading the referenced scene. Mythologically, Pisanio is that deer above. He's wide-eyed, petrified, and waiting for his break (brake, too! Sorry, pun). Though, ain't it strange for Imogen to declare a role reversal, that Pisanio is the butcher? She's really the one behind the wheel, yet she calls herself the lamb to be slaughtered. Usually, the deer's the one that gets a windshield to the face and bumper to the knees. The one with the car is protected and confident in their security, yet shaken from the recent occurrence. Imogen is smart because she's the driver even though she "offers" Pisanio (the butcher) the wheel, but she really knows that it'll just scamper off. Pisanio is no butcher, he's just a deer who hasn't blinked once since he decided to come into the road.

The scene continues, and Pisanio suggests that he bring back part of Imogen's automobile to his forest friends. Maybe part of the bumper or windshield with a little flesh attached will suffice for proof that the deed is done? Let's see what happens next...

Will the deer find some more friends to walk into the road with him? Will they find some horns and headlights, again?

The Sandlot's Flyting

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVscCNZsYSY

My childhood recollection example of 'Flyting.' The clip popped to the top of my head because I must've seen this film over twenty/thirty times.

Only an insult like, "You play ball like a girl!" would be best effective in the correct context. A childish and athletically competitive nature. Something so simply insulting turns the conversation into a heated status establishing contest. The rivals' backyard quarrel becomes hyperbolic in context. A pin prick can cause big conflict as scribble can become a quibble. It takes one wrong button for self-destruction.

A quick All's Well

Recently there's been this trend throughout our classes with this idea of the female getting rejected by the male. I like to believe that an 18th century, British short story titled Fantomina was derived from some Shakespearean scripture. Eliza Haywood wrote this story of an unnamed girl who was probably of a higher class, and she becomes infinitely infatuated with Beauplaisir, the original translation meaning something along the lines of "good pleasure." Yada, yada, yada. She gets rejected a number of times, but every time (four times in forty pages) she's rejected she then morphs herself into another seductress. So time goes on and things get out of hand and then...all's well that ends well? I thought Haywood's story was humorous for it's sensual inscriptions (pornographic genre?) though the ending hits on a lower note. Nevertheless it seems that Haywood's female agent-of-a-character could live as anyone and get anything she wanted, emphasizing the inherent stupidity of the male figure (more specifically, the meat-head, male archetype). In respect for the story it's fair lump all men into this general male character, I understand how it goes.

Then I got to thinking, soon after we eventually read All's Well..., that there is something going on here. Fantomina and Helena are like totally the same person, yeah. Totally, though the difference is that Helena is part of an ensemble (compared to the character-study nature of Fantomina), but they still have the similar bag of tricks. The 'bed trick' for example, the usage of light. Both characters understand that guys are stupid. This is how guys think in literary terms (to some extent [work with me here]):

I want to see this chick's face. She's probably smokin'. Wait, she wants lights off? Well okay, as long as I get my end's meat. Was that inappropriate to call a girl a piece of meat? No, as long as I care for her. Come to me, Diana......yada, yada, yada.......Scene.

Then we come to the part where we find out Mr. Beauplaisir, I mean Bertram, has been duped. Bertram's initial enigmatic epistle had become his fate because All's Well That Ends Well. His letter predicted the perfect happy ending, but it's the females which take over in these stories. Mr. Beauplaisir falls for the mask-followed-the-no-lights trick by the last of Fantomina's aliases. It's textbook. But the textbook must derive from something. Haywood's character grabbed a little flavor from All's Well's witty and wild Helena (who swapped spots with Diana).

Really, who isn't Shakespeare? He writes and becomes characters within characters within characters and the latter.

King Lear Videos and Books on Tape

I have two videos here. The first is an English play, the second an early seventies Russian film adaptation.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tURpNRYakMk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_MKXo-AOCk&feature=player_detailpage

First of all, the Fool is my favorite character in this part of the play because he is the voice of reason to the King. The Russian rendition got it right because it was presented as a sitcom, with the laugh track and whatnot. It's ironic and funny that Lear is a believer in the Fool. I should note, I had 'read,' more or less, this back in high school but the details are foggy. Our teacher Mr. McMan had a hell of a sense of humor though. I remember him explaining to the class how he thought Shakespeare's writing was hilarious. I chuckle when I recall how much tragedy the play has. It is a tragedy, right? I suppose not at this point in the play in Act 1 Scene 4.

Secondly, this past weekend I took a trip out to see some friends in Spokane. Since I had to get some homework done on the way back, and I thought that listening to King Lear's book-on-tape would fill the six hour drive nicely. A friend and I discussed how the experience is different when you're listening to a performance as opposed to reading the text. Technically it's the same material, but there's an interpretation variation. You're going to focus on different things in a movie as opposed to a book. Or say a stage play versus a stand-up comic. You're going to learn and absorb things, but you need the right traction. Shakespeare's books/performances on tape is a different experience than reading.

Lastly, in each of these clips my favorite part of the book on tape was cut out of the clips' scripts.

Fool - Mark it, nuncle; Have more than thou showest, Speak less than thou knowest, Lend less than thou owest, Ride more than thou goest, Learn more than thou trowest, Set less than thou throwest, Leave thy drink and thy whore, And keep in-a-door, And thou shalt have more, Than two tens to a score.

I think that when I was in the car, through snowstorms and stars, driving along them mountain passes, through passing lanes of traffic; I think I just liked his flow. Cruising and flowing, no snoozin' and no slowin'. The book on tape production was fantastic, but the hardest part was keeping up with who was talking. I found out later that the Fool said the line above, but in the car it didn't matter much.

Spoken word is arguably more powerful than writing. Effective? Affective? That's what my friend and I debated. Should we prefer one over the other? He was always the book guy and I was a movie guy growing up. Which experience is more rich? In conclusion, there was no conclusion to the conversation.

Shakespeare ala Alchemist

James Orchard Halliwell wrote a brief, 50-page essay called the "Character of Falstaff." This I've just completed reading, and earlier in the day I completed Shakespeare's Henry IV: Part I. I though that this essay would help me understand the character of Falstaff, but instead it was more about the inspiration for his character and his initial character.

What I mean to say is, I learned something today.

According to Halliwell (and his common-belief associates), Sir John Falstaff was once Sir John Oldcastle. Shakespeare made a simple name change before the play was produced before too long.

I also learned something else today, the name of "Shakespeare" is quite similar to that of "Falstaff."

Shake=Fal (Fall) -- a motion, action, or descriptive?

speare=staff -- in one way or another, a stick?

If this allegory and/or semiotic holds consistent then Shakespeare must've found too much similarity between himself and Oldcastle to keep his name so. Thus, the name change to Falstaff.

But where do the similarities between the infamous character and author begin? Shoot, I couldn't answer that for you. Give me a few more of Shakespeare's historic reads then I'll formulate something. Instead, I'll give some of my favorite content from HenryIV:Pt.I.

Prince Henry and Falstaff, along with others, are kickin' it in the pub with some sack. Much sack, at least for Falstaff who ends up passed out behind the bar in given time/text.

Prince Henry - "That villainous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan."

This is Hal's retort after Falstaff's challenge to call out the cowardice (Falstaff's character, not necessarily Falstaff himself). Hal and Falstaff are not themselves, but a mere personification of their characters of themselves. They're play on their characters allow for free voice on the matter. Then a hostess enters the frame.

Falstaff - "Out ye rogue!--Play out the play. I have much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff."

Then after several lines...

Falstaff - "Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of gold a counterfeit; thou art essentially mad, without seeming so.

Prince Henry - "And thou a natural coward, without instinct."

It's funny that we should discuss alchemy and then I revert to something we haven't yet discussed and find the same theme. I should also say that my favorite show is The Wire, and a common theme in the show is that people shine their shit up and call it gold. It's a politically, criminally, economically, and socially driven narrative. It's a common theme among many writers, bullshit that is, so to speak.

Falstaff is quite the bullshitter, considering his acting in Act V. He fools Prince Hal into believing that he's died, but that's not so. Was this a move of cowardice? I doubt it because it he was having some fun. But Falstaff believed "'twas time to counterfeit..." Quite a one-of-a-kind fat man, kicking back, drinking sack, talking smack. It's his charm and liquid sworded tongue, always well worded that one. It's funny that he talks a lot of bull but is known for his cowardice.

Finally, back to the issue of Shakespeare changing the name 'Oldcastle' (3 syllables) to 'Falstaff' (2 syllables). It's a sound hypothesis considering some of the stanza's syllables fall short. Shakespeare didn't care to change it, and it's gold because it is so. If you break the rules of iambic pentameter then you needn't repent. You're (i.e. Shakespeare) the alchemist then you make your own rules. Sir John Falstaff is a product of Shakespeare's literary alchemical experimentation.

You can break the rules if you can get away with it, but Shakespeare might have not believed in rules. Because some rules are bullshit, but then again so is alchemy. People's gold can be anything, like a chocolate coin.

During my break from the blog

I've been intrigued by some of the ideas from The School of Night, as well as Shakespeare, naturally. Also as of recent I read The Great Divorce, half of The Pilgrim's Progress, and Robinson Crusoe. These few books have very similar ideas in their settings. Thus, The School of Night and Shakespeare, in general, have gotten me on the right road to start a short story. A friend of mine back home and I over Christmas break began this story, and some other classes' assignments have allowed me to continue jotting down and structuring what I want to say.

So here you have it, the first paragraph for an essay from another class. You'll see a couple of the most affecting quotes from Shakespeare and The School of Night. Keep in mind, a chess game is a stage, and the pieces are it's players; They all have an entrace in every game played, and if more than one's played then most will make their leave. And I suppose, a pawn can have many parts. This is an element which you'll seldom visit in the ensuing opening. I hope to further elaborate and layer this story out as I gather ideas from oncoming ideas and variables.

Action.

“All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.” (Shakespeare, 42) This is the truth. I learn’t this whence I was in the Void. How’s this the truth? Well, if you’re on a stage then you must believe that there’s an audience behind the fourth wall. It wasn’t so simple how I learn’t what I did whence I was there. Let me explain, this Void place is not of our world, the previous one. You see, the Void is beyond all cognition, anything and everything, whatever. It is timeless and spaceless. That it is to say, this place is beyond time and space thus containing infinite amounts of both. “Timeless and spaceless” is how you should understand this place to be; simply, because time and space do not matter, literally and figuratively. But wait, what’s the difference between here and heaven? There’s also a fine line between Soul and Mind. Remember, the Soul is matterless giving it infinite potential to freelance without its corporeal Body. “The weightless thoughts of man effectively control the massive universe itself, if correct principles of rational transformation – proper levers, pulleys, lenses, clocks, quadrants – can be found. The microcosm can not only reflect, but control, the macrocosm.” (Turner) In the real world, delving into, analyzing, and investigating your mind is the closest you’ll get to your soul in your body. The mind is a void itself and the infinite must be explored without the restriction of matter; it’s a fulcrum betwixt body and soul. This is the place where you learn to be like the gods. Remember you are never God, which would be hubris. But you have to transcend, and you must practice in order to do so.

Scene.

AMsN'sD prez info

It must be true, Shakespeare is everywhere. Even in bad movies, or should we say the criticism of the bad movies. In our case, the Rude Mechanicals rendition of Pyramus and Thisby's story is Santa Clause Conquers the Martians. There are a number of different critics and they are not all behind the same fourth wall. There's the fairies, who's 4th is beyond the stage and Pyramus and Thisby's audience. That being said, the audience, Theseus, Hippolyta, and the four lovers, are behind the second 4th. We have a peculiar comparison here because this layer seems to be where the main critics are viewing. These personae are the inspiration for Mystery Science Theatre 3000. The movies they watch are inspired by the horrendously hilariously Rude Mechanicals, and even in MST3K they are forced by their master to witness the cheap entertainment. The Rude Mechanicals are the lowermost layer, and embody the lowermost competence, regarding tragedy.

What's funny is that Santa Clause Conquers the Martians is (more specifically, was meant to be) a tragedy. The film about invasion turns into a travesty right quick, and these filmmakers are being put on display for their utmost incompetence, and it's funny to people or characters who are apt at identifying and critiquing. And they'll blab about anything that runs across the brim of their minds; for example, Theseus, Hippolyta, and Lysander numerously poke fun at Quince's Prologue's grammar prior to its conclusion. They're the archetype of the "front row."

Theseus, the master, makes a most convincing argument to Philostrate for why these Rude Mechanicals are worthwhile. It's an ignorant argument having never actually seen the play, but the argument stands lone and tall.

Philostrate - “A play is there, my lord, some ten words long, Which is as brief as I have known a play; But by ten words, my lord, it is too long. Which makes it tedious. For in all the play There is not one word apt, one player fitted…”

Theseus - “I will hear the play; For never anything can be amiss, When simpleness an duty tender it. Go, bring them in: and take your places, ladies.”

Theseus' ample argument is right for our taste because there are no boring books/texts/movies/general-form-of-art-or-entertainment, boredom lies within its beholder. But Theseus may have thought over what he's made him and his band others do. At the beginning of Act V, Theseus would have claimed that there's merit in every piece of art. But by the end, he says explicitly, "No epilogue, Your play needs no excuse." [a] Is Theseus the type of person who simply doesn't believe in epilogues, or [b] is it specifically the Rude Mechanical's Pyramus and Thisby epilogue that he'd like to avoid? B? There's four Acts to A Midsummer Night's Dream core story, but five Acts to its play. Act V is a tragedy because of the performance's objective storyline. Act V is a comedy for performance itself. Act V is a comedy to the aristocracy. But what is Act V to the fairies? Probably a comedy, but they do take the performance more seriously.