Chaos and Dramaturgy
4 posts
Happy pride month, especially to all the Doctor Who fans among us. It's rough out there. May I offer you a dramaturgy post in these trying times?
Let's talk about queerness in Shakespeare's sonnets!
It's a pretty well-known anecdote that Sonnet 18 (arguably one of the most iconic poems in English literature) was written for a man.
Shakespeare's poems were dedicated to one "Fair Youth" and one "Dark Lady."
The way I imagine it is like Taylor Swift's "Eras," where the tone of the poem changes based on who Shakespeare dedicates his work to, sort of like how the vibe of Tortured Poets Department is different from Lover. Even with the same artist, two different muses have drastically different influences on the art.
Most of the "Fair Youth" poems (sonnets 1-127) can be summarized as:
"You're so beautiful. I'm so sad you're going to die. Maybe we should have kids so people remember how pretty you are??? Lemme write a poem about how absolutely stunning you are today."
As Shakespeare is generally believed to be a man (though there is some dispute about that) and the "Fair Youth" is generally believed to be a man (though there are a couple possibilities of who it might be) this whole thing just cracks me up. If someone ever gets a time machine and brings Shakespeare to the future, I think he'd be fascinated by the Omegaverse.
Meanwhile, the "Dark Lady" poems (sonnets 127-152) are more like:
"I'm yours. I'll do whatever you want. You scare me a bit, but in a way I am deeply attracted to. If this is wrong, then why does it feel so right?"
Poetry isn't always a reflection of real life, but many things point back to the sonnets being at least partially autobiographical in nature, like Sonnet 135.
"Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will, And Will to boot, and Will in overplus..."
Constructs of queerness were very different back in the 1600s, so it's hard to put specific modern labels like gay, bi, or pan on historical figures.
That said, is it very likely that Shakespeare was some flavor of queer?
Absolutely.
And if the sonnets are any indication of his type, then he had a thing for femboys and dangerous women.
For further reading, I would recommend checking out the RSC's analysis of the sonnets.
Okay. First things first:
Pastoralism refers to a narrative construct popular in the Elizabethan era in which people (usually young people) go into the woods, wander around, and return to their normal life, now substantially changed by their time in The Woods.
One of the most iconic examples of this is A Midsummer Night's Dream. A whole bunch of young people (Hermia, Helena, Demetrius, and Lysander) leave their boring lives and the problems that come with them (Hermia and Lysander want to get married, but Hermia's dad says "nah" and wants her to marry Demetrius instead). They wander around the forest (which happens to be populated with scheming faeries) and eventually return to their home (Athens) with new perspectives on life (Hermia and Lysander can get married, and so can Helena and Demetrius).
Of course, this is drastically oversimplifying the plot, but this same basic formula can also be applied to many other plays of the era, including As You Like It and The Faithful Shepherdess (John Fletcher's absolute trash fire of a play, which you should totally research for a good laugh).
But the thing about pastoralism? It never went away. Like any good, enduring trope, it grew and changed with the public consciousness.
Let's talk about Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle.
Yes, that's right. The 2017 action film starring Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, national treasure Jack Black, Karen Gillan (always Amy Pond in my heart), and Kevin Hart (yes, I stalked the IMDB for this).
Obviously, there is some disconnect between the structure of a pastoralist play and what we envision when we think of a pastoral setting. For now, let's separate a pastoral setting from a pastoralist premise, and focus just on the pre-established equation for what makes a pastoral play.
A bunch of young people (Spencer, Martha, Fridge, and Bethany) exist in their boring everyday life with their boring everyday problems (I.E. detention).
They escape this ordinary world into a land of foliage and fantasy. In A Midsummer Night's Dream, the faeries end up influencing the development of the story. In Welcome to the Jungle, the element of fantasy is the video game setting. While pastoralist media does not explicitly require an element of fantasy in order to work (as shown in As You Like It) it's usually needed as a way to lower the characters' inhibitions. By putting them in a situation so far-removed from the ordinary world, they can truly figure out who they are.
By going through this wild, crazy, and dangerous situation, the characters are able to return to their normal lives, significantly changed by what's happened (as shown by their newfound friendship).
If we're going by the previously established definition of pastoralism, then Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle fits the bill of a pastoral play.
Modern-Day Pastoralism
As mentioned before, there is going to be a bit of disconnect between Elizabethan pastoralism and modern-day pastoralism, but similar elements manifest themselves (purposefully or otherwise) in all sorts of movies, books, and TV shows.
Pastoralist plots are alive and well in modern media if you know where to find them, though most of the plots skew to the "action/adventure" side of things rather than the "romance" side that was popular back in Shakespeare's day.
This probably speaks to how people have begun to view the outdoors. Rather than being something strange, wonderful, and freeing, it is now seen as something that, while still freeing, is also very dangerous. This is expected, as people have increasingly gravitated towards urban life.
However, with the increased romanticization of pastoral aesthetics (I.E. Cottagecore, Gremlincore, etc.) I wouldn't be surprised if we start seeing media reflective of an earlier, more joyful interpretation of pastoralism.
With this in mind, I would like to propose a means of identifying such forms of media.
The main characters must begin their stories with baggage from their ordinary lives.
They somehow end up in a natural environment.
Said natural environment must lower their inhibitions and/or upset the status quo established in their "ordinary world".
They are significantly changed by the time they spent in said natural environment.
One of the shows that immediately comes to mind is Lost, which more or less follows the guidelines.
Each episode features flashbacks (or, as the case may be, flash-forwards or flash-sideways) to the characters' lives before the plane crash (the normal world).
They crash on an island (the natural setting), presenting them with the challenge of surviving not only the natural world, but the strange and supernatural influences on the island.
This disrupts the status quo they adhered to, causing them to grow and change as people.
But that's just a theory... a literature theory! (Nah, it doesn't have as much of a ring to it.)
Whenever I'm trying to get someone into Shakespeare (which is often) my first recommendation is almost always Merry Wives of Windsor.
For those who are unfamiliar with this play but interested, here are all of the reasons to give it a watch/read:
It is a play about normal, everyday people. Most of Shakespeare's other plays feature dukes and duchesses, kings and queens, scheming lords, and the like. But Merry Wives of Windsor is a play about ordinary people who have (mostly) ordinary problems.
Because this is a play about normal people, it is written in prose instead of verse. This means that the characters talk more like normal people, which means it's easier to read (especially for newbies).
The lore surrounding this play is hilarious. Queen Elizabeth I (the original fangirl) commissioned Shakespeare to write a play with her blorbo Sir John Falstaff in it.
Basically, the whole thing reads like an old sitcom.
The result was a story about how two housewives (Mistress Ford and Mistress Page) work together to make a fool of Falstaff when he tries (and fails) to seduce them for their money. The women's actions directly influence the comedic nature of the show.
Falstaff ends up in a lot of situations, like being stuffed in a laundry basket, getting dressed up in an old lady's clothes (I think I might make a post about comedic versus authentic crossdressing in Shakespearean theatre), and wandering out into the woods while wearing antlers (as one does).
Meanwhile, Master and Mistress Page are trying to figure out who should marry their daughter, Anne "Nan" Page. Mistress Page wants her to marry Caius, an obnoxious French doctor (who speaks in unintelligible Francophone gibberish). Master Page wants Nan to marry Slender, who is painfully awkward and can barely make it through a single conversation with Nan. Nan, however, wants to marry Fenton, who has neither of her parents' approval.
Overall, it's a weird, lighthearted romp that really captures what makes Shakespearean comedies delightful. It has fairies, pranks, forbidden love, and a whole lot of silly fights over nothing.
So if you're looking to get into Shakespeare and don't want to start with something too intense, Merry Wives of Windsor is a great play to not take super seriously.
The Plague ruins everything in Romeo and Juliet. Like, it's always understated how important the Plague is to the plot. A BIT OF HISTORY Shakespeare was alive during the second wave of the Bubonic plague in England (in the mid 1590s). Theaters had to be closed so people didn't, you know, die and stuff, so it ended up impacting his livelihood quite significantly. Romeo and Juliet was written around the time of the Plague, so it is safe to say that it was on Shakespeare's mind. Plus, it's set in Italy in the mid 1300s, during (you guessed it!) the first wave of the Bubonic Plague. So if we're looking for historical accuracy, Romeo and Juliet is going to be set during the Plague.
FAIR VERONA The Montagues and Capulets hate each other's guts. That much is clear from the first scene. And a common criticism of the play is "why don't they just get out of Verona?" It seems like kind of a weird plot hole, until you take their current situation into account. The Montagues and the Capulets can't leave Verona. Not unless they want to have long and painful deaths. - Verona is a walled city (safe from the outside world) - It is surrounded by a river - The city outside (Mantua, and we'll get to it later) was a hotspot for the Plague Verona was highly insular, and that was its benefit. It was also its major flaw, because the two major families of the area hated each other's guts. The tensions caused by the Plague and not being able to leave only went to exacerbate this hatred.
"A PLAGUE ON BOTH YOUR HOUSES" RIP Mercutio. You would've loved drag brunch. Also vaccines, since the Plague (indirectly) is probably the reason he died. Yes, I realize he dies because Tybalt stabs him. But why did Tybalt stab him in the first place? Let's roll back the clock a little. - Tybalt killed Mercutio because he was aligned with the Montagues, who are the enemies of the Capulets - The Capulets and Montagues can't just avoid each other because they're stuck in the same city - They're stuck in the same city because of the Plague There's also something to be said for the desperation felt by the people in Verona. Either they can die from sores and diarrhea, or they can die in a fight. And I dunno about y'all, but one of those things sounds a lot cooler. With the Plague closing in, of course people are gonna start picking fights. It's the perfect storm of stressed and reckless. If we contextualize the quote "a plague on both your houses" with the era, it's not just Mercutio cursing everyone out because he's angry he's gonna die (though that's definitely part of it). It's a warning. The Plague is the great equalizer, and it's going after everyone, regardless of whether they're a Montague or a Capulet.
ROMEO'S BANISHMENT Another compelling bit of evidence for the Plague's importance in Romeo and Juliet is Romeo's reaction to being exiled. Romeo is a lovesick puddle of soup. He fell in love with a girl at a party and then died because he couldn't live without her. He's overdramatic. But his reaction to being banished from Verona is pretty dramatic, even for him. Like, come on, dude. But what if it wasn't the fact that he would be separated from Juliet that he was the most worried about? Remember when I said we'd circle back around to Mantua? We're circling back around. Because Mantua (right outside of Verona) was a playground for the Plague. A Plague-ground, if you will. It was a place where a lot of people came and went, and it was blocked off by bridges. So, if an outbreak happened, Mantua (and those in it) would be cut off from the world and left for dead. Suddenly, Romeo's complaints about leaving Verona don't sound quite so unreasonable. Juliet's worry about Romeo going away doesn't seem quite so silly. And the Nurse's advice to Juliet, saying "he's basically dead now, so don't worry about him anymore" actually seems pretty reasonable. In fact, the biggest reason why Romeo and Juliet don't survive in the end is because the correspondence Friar Lawrence meant to send didn't go through fast enough, because Friar Peter (the guy he gave the letter to) was being quarantined.
ADULTS OF VERONA The Plague helps explain the actions of the adults, too. Juliet's parents are trying to get her to marry, even though she's really young (even by the standards of the era). This can be interpreted in a couple different ways. Either they want Juliet to hurry on with her life and get out of their hair, or they know that something might happen to them (or Juliet, for that matter) and they want to do their best to put Juliet in a good situation. The choice of Paris is, given what Juliet is facing, a pretty good one. He's good-looking, generally depicted as being close enough to Juliet's age, courteous, filthy rich, and not affiliated with either the Montagues or the Capulets. Juliet might not be in love with him, but she would at least be taken care of. Was Lord Capulet a perfect man? No. But can his actions be boiled down into just a desire for control? Not if you account for the Plague, at which point he (and his fellow adults) become much more nuanced and much more reasonable.
Romeo and Juliet, on its own, is plausible. It is possible to accept the story of the star-crossed lovers (I mean, the adaptations speak for themselves). But the introduction of the Plague creates a perfect storm of storytelling, cementing it as a tragedy. Not only could it happen, but this was the way it was always going to happen.