two print forms that located desire in the disabled body began to appear onstage with far different consequences in Renaissance England. The first of these was the contreblason, satiric verse in praise of a deformed beloved. Developed by Francesco Berni (1497–1535), Pietro Aretino (1492–1556), and Clément Marot (1496–1544) as a form of anti-Petrarchanism, the contreblason was popularized through a schoolroom exercise known as paradoxical praise, rhetoric that elevated seemingly undesirable states such as the plague, poverty, or ugliness. In the theater, Sir Tophas praises his mistress Dipsas for her coral eyes, silver lips, blue teeth, and carbuncle nose in John Lyly’s Endymion (1588); Horatio seeks physical deformities (“lips of honest hide . . . teeth of a Moor’s complexion . . . a witch’s beard”) in Fiametta, his ideal woman, in James Shirley’s The Duke’s Mistress (1638); and Dromio of Syracuse performs a global anatomy of Nell, his “swart” kitchen wench in Shakespeare’s The Comedy of Errors (1589–93). For literary critics, lyric mock encomia are seen as hostile, mocking, and misogynistic—pathologizing the women the male poets claim to admire—and twice as problematic as the blazon, which figuratively dismembers the beloved. In the lyric tradition, women are objectified by the male speaker and wholly contained within language. But in the playhouse, actors could undermine these rules in many different ways, especially given that an audience sees the beloved (a real person), whose reaction to his or her verbal portrait may generate sympathy, attention, or intimacy. Rather than list parts
在文艺复兴时期的英国，两种将欲望定位于残疾人身体的印刷形式开始出现在舞台上，产生了截然不同的后果。第一首是反亵渎诗，是赞美畸形爱人的讽刺诗。由Francesco Berni (1497-1535)， Pietro Aretino(1492-1556)和clemacment Marot(1496-1544)作为一种反彼得拉克主义的形式而发展起来的，这种反彼得拉克主义是通过一种被称为悖论赞美的课堂练习而普及的，这种修辞会提升诸如瘟疫，贫穷或丑陋等看似不受欢迎的状态。在剧院里，托法斯爵士在约翰·莱利的《恩底弥翁》(1588)中称赞他的情妇迪普萨斯珊瑚色的眼睛、银色的嘴唇、蓝色的牙齿和红宝石般的鼻子;霍雷肖寻找身体上的畸形(“诚实隐藏的嘴唇……摩尔人肤色的牙齿……女巫的胡子”)，在詹姆斯·雪莉的《公爵的情妇》(1638)中，他的理想女人菲亚梅塔;锡拉丘兹的德罗米奥在莎士比亚的《错误喜剧》(1589-93)中对他的“聪明”厨房女佣内尔进行了全面剖析。对于文学评论家来说，抒情的讽刺诗被认为是充满敌意的、嘲弄的、厌恶女性的——把男性诗人声称崇拜的女性病态化——比象征着肢解所爱的人的火焰更有问题。在抒情传统中，女性被男性说话者客观化，完全被包含在语言之中。但在剧场里，演员可以用许多不同的方式破坏这些规则，特别是考虑到观众看到心爱的人(一个真实的人)，他们对他或她的口头形象的反应可能会产生同情、关注或亲密关系。而不是列出部件
{"title":"Desire, a Crooked Yearning, and the Plants of Endymion","authors":"S. Kelley","doi":"10.1086/685941","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/685941","url":null,"abstract":"two print forms that located desire in the disabled body began to appear onstage with far different consequences in Renaissance England. The first of these was the contreblason, satiric verse in praise of a deformed beloved. Developed by Francesco Berni (1497–1535), Pietro Aretino (1492–1556), and Clément Marot (1496–1544) as a form of anti-Petrarchanism, the contreblason was popularized through a schoolroom exercise known as paradoxical praise, rhetoric that elevated seemingly undesirable states such as the plague, poverty, or ugliness. In the theater, Sir Tophas praises his mistress Dipsas for her coral eyes, silver lips, blue teeth, and carbuncle nose in John Lyly’s Endymion (1588); Horatio seeks physical deformities (“lips of honest hide . . . teeth of a Moor’s complexion . . . a witch’s beard”) in Fiametta, his ideal woman, in James Shirley’s The Duke’s Mistress (1638); and Dromio of Syracuse performs a global anatomy of Nell, his “swart” kitchen wench in Shakespeare’s The Comedy of Errors (1589–93). For literary critics, lyric mock encomia are seen as hostile, mocking, and misogynistic—pathologizing the women the male poets claim to admire—and twice as problematic as the blazon, which figuratively dismembers the beloved. In the lyric tradition, women are objectified by the male speaker and wholly contained within language. But in the playhouse, actors could undermine these rules in many different ways, especially given that an audience sees the beloved (a real person), whose reaction to his or her verbal portrait may generate sympathy, attention, or intimacy. Rather than list parts","PeriodicalId":53676,"journal":{"name":"Renaissance Drama","volume":"44 1","pages":"1 - 23"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2016-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1086/685941","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"60516122","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
unlike many non-Shakespearean early modern plays, Thomas Dekker and Thomas Middleton’s The Roaring Girl (1611) has received significant and sustained critical attention. The play has shaped our understanding of how London’s denizens figured their changing relationships to each other and to material culture as the city’s population and economic activity rapidly increased in the early modern period. For many of the play’s feminist and queer readers, the title character’s cross-dressing connects early modern material culture to urban sexuality like a doublet to a pair of trunk hose. Central to this analysis has been the question of whether Dekker and Middleton’s representation of Moll challenges or retrenches dominant early modern understandings of gender and sexuality. Even as this critical attention to Moll has
{"title":"“Quilted with Mighty Words to Lean Purpose”: Clothing and Queer Style in The Roaring Girl","authors":"James M. Bromley","doi":"10.1086/683105","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/683105","url":null,"abstract":"unlike many non-Shakespearean early modern plays, Thomas Dekker and Thomas Middleton’s The Roaring Girl (1611) has received significant and sustained critical attention. The play has shaped our understanding of how London’s denizens figured their changing relationships to each other and to material culture as the city’s population and economic activity rapidly increased in the early modern period. For many of the play’s feminist and queer readers, the title character’s cross-dressing connects early modern material culture to urban sexuality like a doublet to a pair of trunk hose. Central to this analysis has been the question of whether Dekker and Middleton’s representation of Moll challenges or retrenches dominant early modern understandings of gender and sexuality. Even as this critical attention to Moll has","PeriodicalId":53676,"journal":{"name":"Renaissance Drama","volume":"43 1","pages":"143 - 172"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2015-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1086/683105","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"60428513","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
a s You Like It is a play in search of a future. At the same time, it is also a deeply nostalgic play. Some critics have celebrated what they see as its striving for ideological balance and resistance to social change. Recent readings have tended to be more progressive, seeing the play as a response to unjust laws, a critique of gender and sexuality, or as an exploration of humanity’s relationship with the environment. One constant in the scholar-
{"title":"Satire and the Aesthetic in As You Like It","authors":"T. Samuk","doi":"10.1086/683106","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/683106","url":null,"abstract":"a s You Like It is a play in search of a future. At the same time, it is also a deeply nostalgic play. Some critics have celebrated what they see as its striving for ideological balance and resistance to social change. Recent readings have tended to be more progressive, seeing the play as a response to unjust laws, a critique of gender and sexuality, or as an exploration of humanity’s relationship with the environment. One constant in the scholar-","PeriodicalId":53676,"journal":{"name":"Renaissance Drama","volume":"43 1","pages":"117 - 142"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2015-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1086/683106","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"60428530","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
a ntony and Cleopatra, perhaps more than any other play by Shakespeare, puts the world on stage. In its setting, it flagrantly violates the Aristotelian unity of space, ranging across the Classical Mediterranean in dizzyingly quick changes of scene. The chorus of the play’s drinking song, “Cup us till the world go round,” might also be taken as the motto of its scenography. The play is like an early modern attempt at a global imaging system that makes visible large-scale networks of commerce and communication. With this difference: in its merry-go-round changes of scene, the play does a better job at showing the impossibility of making far-flung places cohere into a single comprehensible frame. If the physical integrity of the world is lacking in the play, it is supplemented by a surplus of figures. Antony alone is “the triple pillar of the world,” “the demi-Atlas of the earth,” and one whose arm “crested the world” (1.1.12, 1.5.23, 5.2.82). These figures demonstrate that images of the world are inseparable from political attempts to control it. If the triumvirate are the pillars of the world, then the Roman Empire itself is the structure of the world, that is, what makes the world a world and not the “huge rude heape” of Ovid’s chaos. Rome defines the extension of its rule as cosmopolitics. After the flurry of world-hopping throughout the play, the final scene offers a stark contrast in its sense of worldhood. Cleopatra, the life she had built with Antony crumbling after his suicide and the advance of Octavius Caesar, entombs herself in her monument. Where earlier the play had attempted to cap-
{"title":"“The World Transformed”: Multiple Worlds in Antony and Cleopatra","authors":"B. Dawson","doi":"10.1086/683104","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/683104","url":null,"abstract":"a ntony and Cleopatra, perhaps more than any other play by Shakespeare, puts the world on stage. In its setting, it flagrantly violates the Aristotelian unity of space, ranging across the Classical Mediterranean in dizzyingly quick changes of scene. The chorus of the play’s drinking song, “Cup us till the world go round,” might also be taken as the motto of its scenography. The play is like an early modern attempt at a global imaging system that makes visible large-scale networks of commerce and communication. With this difference: in its merry-go-round changes of scene, the play does a better job at showing the impossibility of making far-flung places cohere into a single comprehensible frame. If the physical integrity of the world is lacking in the play, it is supplemented by a surplus of figures. Antony alone is “the triple pillar of the world,” “the demi-Atlas of the earth,” and one whose arm “crested the world” (1.1.12, 1.5.23, 5.2.82). These figures demonstrate that images of the world are inseparable from political attempts to control it. If the triumvirate are the pillars of the world, then the Roman Empire itself is the structure of the world, that is, what makes the world a world and not the “huge rude heape” of Ovid’s chaos. Rome defines the extension of its rule as cosmopolitics. After the flurry of world-hopping throughout the play, the final scene offers a stark contrast in its sense of worldhood. Cleopatra, the life she had built with Antony crumbling after his suicide and the advance of Octavius Caesar, entombs herself in her monument. Where earlier the play had attempted to cap-","PeriodicalId":53676,"journal":{"name":"Renaissance Drama","volume":"43 1","pages":"173 - 191"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2015-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1086/683104","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"60428207","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
consider the lamprey: a boneless, jawless, slime-coated, eel-like aquatic parasite with a suction-cup mouth housing concentric rings of sharp teeth and a tongue—also studded with teeth—which it jams into host fish in order to feed on their blood. Today the lamprey is a rare and protected species in England; it is comparatively abundant in the Great Lakes of North America, where it is considered a nightmarish invasive threat to native fisheries. During the early modern centuries, when it was widely eaten in pies, the lamprey’s otherworldly visage (well worth an online search) would have been a more regular sight at market—albeit still a terrifying one. And so it appears—parasitic, spineless, and slimy—in a fleeting moment in the first act of John Webster’s Duchess of Malfi. The corrupt Duke Ferdinand, having spent some thirty lines discouraging his newly widowed sister from remarrying, springs a lamprey on her—and us:
{"title":"Macabre Vitality: Texture and Resonance in The Duchess of Malfi","authors":"William Cook Miller","doi":"10.1086/683142","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/683142","url":null,"abstract":"consider the lamprey: a boneless, jawless, slime-coated, eel-like aquatic parasite with a suction-cup mouth housing concentric rings of sharp teeth and a tongue—also studded with teeth—which it jams into host fish in order to feed on their blood. Today the lamprey is a rare and protected species in England; it is comparatively abundant in the Great Lakes of North America, where it is considered a nightmarish invasive threat to native fisheries. During the early modern centuries, when it was widely eaten in pies, the lamprey’s otherworldly visage (well worth an online search) would have been a more regular sight at market—albeit still a terrifying one. And so it appears—parasitic, spineless, and slimy—in a fleeting moment in the first act of John Webster’s Duchess of Malfi. The corrupt Duke Ferdinand, having spent some thirty lines discouraging his newly widowed sister from remarrying, springs a lamprey on her—and us:","PeriodicalId":53676,"journal":{"name":"Renaissance Drama","volume":"43 1","pages":"193 - 216"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2015-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1086/683142","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"60429868","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
in the first couplet declaimed by Don Gomès, Count of Gormas, in act 1, scene 1 of Le Cid, Pierre Corneille advanced a fundamental theme of the tragicomedy, and indeed of his entire oeuvre: fidelity. The Count assesses the qualities of his daughter Chimène’s suitors, Don Rodrigue and Don Sanche, and confirms their three most important attributes: “Tous deux formés d’un sang noble, vaillant, fidèle” (Both of them formed of blood that is noble, valiant, faithful; 1.1.12). As the rhyme word fidèle rang out through the Théâtre du Marais in early 1637, audiences were brought to reflect upon the place of fidelity in the play and in their historical moment. Questions of fidelity were weighty and pressing in the wake of 1636, the disastrous “année de Corbie” (year of Corbie). During that year, the second of France’s official engagement in the Thirty Years’ War (1618–48), King Louis XIII was faced with both foreign wars and domestic turmoil. Spanish forces invaded deep into French territory, and military heroes of the royal family, such as Gaston d’Orléans and the comte de Soissons, had turned against the monarch and his chief minister, Cardinal Richelieu. Gaston and Soissons, the king’s brother and cousin, hatched a plot to assassinate Richelieu at Amiens in October 1636 while the French were fending
皮埃尔·高乃依在《勒·西德》第一幕第一场中，在戈马伯爵唐·戈姆蒂斯所朗诵的第一对诗中，提出了悲喜剧的一个基本主题，实际上也是他全部作品的一个基本主题:忠诚。伯爵评价了他女儿chim的追求者Don Rodrigue和Don Sanche的品质，并肯定了他们三个最重要的品质:“Tous deux form d’un sang noble, vaillant, fid”(他们都是由高贵、勇敢、忠诚的血统组成的;1.1.12)。1637年初，当《th tre du Marais》中出现fid的押韵词时，观众们开始反思忠诚在剧中和他们所处的历史时刻所处的地位。在1636年灾难性的“Corbie年”之后，忠诚的问题变得沉重而紧迫。在那一年，法国第二次正式参与三十年战争(1618-48)，国王路易十三面临着外部战争和国内动荡。西班牙军队深入法国领土，王室的军事英雄，如加斯顿·德·奥尔卡姆斯和德·苏瓦松伯爵，已经开始反对君主和他的首席部长黎塞留。1636年10月，当法国人在亚眠打仗时，加斯顿和国王的兄弟和表弟苏瓦松策划了在亚眠刺杀黎塞留的阴谋
{"title":"Words of the “Wise Captain”: Pierre Corneille, Le Cid, and Fidelity","authors":"C. Pichichero","doi":"10.1086/681548","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/681548","url":null,"abstract":"in the first couplet declaimed by Don Gomès, Count of Gormas, in act 1, scene 1 of Le Cid, Pierre Corneille advanced a fundamental theme of the tragicomedy, and indeed of his entire oeuvre: fidelity. The Count assesses the qualities of his daughter Chimène’s suitors, Don Rodrigue and Don Sanche, and confirms their three most important attributes: “Tous deux formés d’un sang noble, vaillant, fidèle” (Both of them formed of blood that is noble, valiant, faithful; 1.1.12). As the rhyme word fidèle rang out through the Théâtre du Marais in early 1637, audiences were brought to reflect upon the place of fidelity in the play and in their historical moment. Questions of fidelity were weighty and pressing in the wake of 1636, the disastrous “année de Corbie” (year of Corbie). During that year, the second of France’s official engagement in the Thirty Years’ War (1618–48), King Louis XIII was faced with both foreign wars and domestic turmoil. Spanish forces invaded deep into French territory, and military heroes of the royal family, such as Gaston d’Orléans and the comte de Soissons, had turned against the monarch and his chief minister, Cardinal Richelieu. Gaston and Soissons, the king’s brother and cousin, hatched a plot to assassinate Richelieu at Amiens in October 1636 while the French were fending","PeriodicalId":53676,"journal":{"name":"Renaissance Drama","volume":"43 1","pages":"27 - 52"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2015-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1086/681548","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"60381500","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
after hearing conflicting testimony from the Montague and Capulet camps about the slaying of Tybalt, the Prince of Verona asks, “Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; / Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?” The answer comes from Romeo’s father: “Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio’s friend. / His fault concludes but what the law should end, / The life of Tybalt” (3.1.184–88). Or at least it does unless you happen to own a copy of the 1963 Signet edition, which—unlike every other modern edition of the play I can find—gives that answer to Juliet’s father instead. Otherwise a reader can traipse back through the hall of fame of Shakespeare editors without finding that little speech attributed to Lord Capulet. Try the great Dr. Johnson (1765), Capell’s carefully researched collection (1768), the scrupulous improvements of Malone (1790), the lavish Steevens/Boydell editions (1802), the notorious Bowdler’s Family Shakespeare (1820), Collier (1842), Furness’s Variorum (1871), Dowden (1900), Sisson (1953), Dover Wilson (1955), George Walton Williams (1964), the controversial Rowse (1968), Craig (1931), Kittredge (1936) and Ribner’s update (1978), Harbage’s Pelican collection of the works and the new version by Orgel and Braunmuller (2002), Raffel for Harold Bloom’s series (2004), the old and new Folger editions (1959, 2004), or Bate and Rasmussen’s RSC Complete Works (2007). Dig through all three Arden editions, both the traditionalist old Oxford version and Wells and Tay-
{"title":"Lord Capulet’s Lost Compromise: A Tragic Emendation and the Binary Dynamics of Romeo and Juliet","authors":"R. N. Watson","doi":"10.1086/680449","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/680449","url":null,"abstract":"after hearing conflicting testimony from the Montague and Capulet camps about the slaying of Tybalt, the Prince of Verona asks, “Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; / Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?” The answer comes from Romeo’s father: “Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio’s friend. / His fault concludes but what the law should end, / The life of Tybalt” (3.1.184–88). Or at least it does unless you happen to own a copy of the 1963 Signet edition, which—unlike every other modern edition of the play I can find—gives that answer to Juliet’s father instead. Otherwise a reader can traipse back through the hall of fame of Shakespeare editors without finding that little speech attributed to Lord Capulet. Try the great Dr. Johnson (1765), Capell’s carefully researched collection (1768), the scrupulous improvements of Malone (1790), the lavish Steevens/Boydell editions (1802), the notorious Bowdler’s Family Shakespeare (1820), Collier (1842), Furness’s Variorum (1871), Dowden (1900), Sisson (1953), Dover Wilson (1955), George Walton Williams (1964), the controversial Rowse (1968), Craig (1931), Kittredge (1936) and Ribner’s update (1978), Harbage’s Pelican collection of the works and the new version by Orgel and Braunmuller (2002), Raffel for Harold Bloom’s series (2004), the old and new Folger editions (1959, 2004), or Bate and Rasmussen’s RSC Complete Works (2007). Dig through all three Arden editions, both the traditionalist old Oxford version and Wells and Tay-","PeriodicalId":53676,"journal":{"name":"Renaissance Drama","volume":"43 1","pages":"53 - 84"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2015-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1086/680449","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"60351705","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
act 3, scene 2, of Shakespeare’s Winter’s Tale ends with Leontes’s terrible recognition of what his jealous imagination has cost him, and it also initiates the play’s movement into the world of fairy tale. The 2011 Royal Shakespeare Company production directed by David Farr included a dramatic demonstration of this shift: the towering bookshelves that had flanked the stage as part of a realistic regal dining hall in the first half of the play came crashing down as the ruined Leontes (played by Greg Hicks) exited, and the fallen bookshelves, together with the piles of spilled books, remained onstage for the rest of the play, physically emphasizing the fictional composition of everything taking place. The green world in which much of the play’s second half takes place was strewn with book pages at intermission, and the fictionality of the setting was further emphasized by using book pages as the material for the leaves of trees, for the costumes of the satyrs, and for the lifesize puppet of the famous bear. These staging choices underscored an important theme of the play: the fanciful, extravagant artfulness that makes possible the improbable recovery of both Perdita and Hermione.
{"title":"Literary Mirrors of Aristocratic Performance: Readers and Audiences of The Faerie Queene and The Winter’s Tale","authors":"Patricia Wareh","doi":"10.1086/680448","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/680448","url":null,"abstract":"act 3, scene 2, of Shakespeare’s Winter’s Tale ends with Leontes’s terrible recognition of what his jealous imagination has cost him, and it also initiates the play’s movement into the world of fairy tale. The 2011 Royal Shakespeare Company production directed by David Farr included a dramatic demonstration of this shift: the towering bookshelves that had flanked the stage as part of a realistic regal dining hall in the first half of the play came crashing down as the ruined Leontes (played by Greg Hicks) exited, and the fallen bookshelves, together with the piles of spilled books, remained onstage for the rest of the play, physically emphasizing the fictional composition of everything taking place. The green world in which much of the play’s second half takes place was strewn with book pages at intermission, and the fictionality of the setting was further emphasized by using book pages as the material for the leaves of trees, for the costumes of the satyrs, and for the lifesize puppet of the famous bear. These staging choices underscored an important theme of the play: the fanciful, extravagant artfulness that makes possible the improbable recovery of both Perdita and Hermione.","PeriodicalId":53676,"journal":{"name":"Renaissance Drama","volume":"105 1","pages":"85 - 114"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2015-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1086/680448","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"60351700","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
They [the actors playing the mechanicals] had no idea what was happening behind the studio doors and of course we [the actors playing the characters at Theseus’s court] had never seen the play they now began to perform [Pyramus and Thisby]. They appeared as under-rehearsed as Bottom and his colleagues were in the text. Philip Locke as Peter Quince acted as the play’s Prologue and its genuine prompter, holding the Penguin edition of the Dream in his hand. The court found this very funny at first, but as our jokes at their expense grew more desperate, the actual substance of their play together with the strangeness of our environment began to work upon us and by the time we had reached the death of Pyramus and Thisby, their innocence had a weirdly moving effect on us.
{"title":"“The Botome of Goddes Secretes”: 1 Corinthians and A Midsummer Night’s Dream","authors":"Andrew Barnaby","doi":"10.1086/680467","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/680467","url":null,"abstract":"They [the actors playing the mechanicals] had no idea what was happening behind the studio doors and of course we [the actors playing the characters at Theseus’s court] had never seen the play they now began to perform [Pyramus and Thisby]. They appeared as under-rehearsed as Bottom and his colleagues were in the text. Philip Locke as Peter Quince acted as the play’s Prologue and its genuine prompter, holding the Penguin edition of the Dream in his hand. The court found this very funny at first, but as our jokes at their expense grew more desperate, the actual substance of their play together with the strangeness of our environment began to work upon us and by the time we had reached the death of Pyramus and Thisby, their innocence had a weirdly moving effect on us.","PeriodicalId":53676,"journal":{"name":"Renaissance Drama","volume":"43 1","pages":"1 - 26"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2015-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1086/680467","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"60352195","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
the relationship between physical pain and figurative language, metaphor in particular, is highly fraught, yet many early modern English tragedies are built upon a dual foundation of spectacular episodes of suffering and elaborate poetic conceits. Ingenuity in both language and spectacle certainly helped sell tickets in a saturated dramatic marketplace, but the cooperative conjunction of pain and metaphor more importantly helped these plays achieve the didactic and cathartic goals of the genre. Recent scholarship has demonstrated the many ways sensory experience contributed to understanding in the theater of Shakespeare and his contemporaries. Unlike the sights, sounds, or even smells of a performance, however, the sensation of pain was neither felt by actors nor shared with audience members, hindering direct communication of an experience central to tragedy. Compounded with the potential meaninglessness of pain and the isolation that can accompany extreme suffering, this lack of direct communication could impede audience engagement with the subject matter and characters of the play. Metaphor and other types of figurative language are a means for tragic playwrights to meet the challenges of the dramatic representation of pain. These tropes offer a way to “make sense” of pain: to unite the physical sensation portrayed by the actor with an intellectual, emotional, and meta-
{"title":"Figures of Pain in Early Modern English Tragedy","authors":"K. Huth","doi":"10.1086/678121","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/678121","url":null,"abstract":"the relationship between physical pain and figurative language, metaphor in particular, is highly fraught, yet many early modern English tragedies are built upon a dual foundation of spectacular episodes of suffering and elaborate poetic conceits. Ingenuity in both language and spectacle certainly helped sell tickets in a saturated dramatic marketplace, but the cooperative conjunction of pain and metaphor more importantly helped these plays achieve the didactic and cathartic goals of the genre. Recent scholarship has demonstrated the many ways sensory experience contributed to understanding in the theater of Shakespeare and his contemporaries. Unlike the sights, sounds, or even smells of a performance, however, the sensation of pain was neither felt by actors nor shared with audience members, hindering direct communication of an experience central to tragedy. Compounded with the potential meaninglessness of pain and the isolation that can accompany extreme suffering, this lack of direct communication could impede audience engagement with the subject matter and characters of the play. Metaphor and other types of figurative language are a means for tragic playwrights to meet the challenges of the dramatic representation of pain. These tropes offer a way to “make sense” of pain: to unite the physical sensation portrayed by the actor with an intellectual, emotional, and meta-","PeriodicalId":53676,"journal":{"name":"Renaissance Drama","volume":"42 1","pages":"169 - 190"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2014-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1086/678121","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"60280798","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
京公网安备 11010802042870号
京ICP备2023020795号-1
扫码关注我们
求助内容：
应助结果提醒方式：