“By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes…”

All this cool weather and the newly emerged, resplendent autumn colors have been putting me in the Halloween spirit lately. And it has also got me thinking: What about Shakespeare and Halloween? What connections are there between the two, and what was this holiday like in Elizabethan England? I was inspired to do a little research and come up with a few notes on witches, warlocks, and William Shakespeare.

First, a (very) brief history lesson: Halloween has its origins in the Celtic harvest festival of Samhain, a time when the ancient Celts believed the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead blurred, and the dead returned to earth. Later, when Christianity spread to the British Isles, the Catholic Church overlaid many of their holidays onto pagan holidays in order to lessen the gap between religions. One of these holidays was All Saints’ Day, also known as All-Hallows, on November 1st. Thus, October 31st became known as All-Hallows' Eve, which was, in turn, eventually shortened to Halloween. And there you have it. For a more detailed (and humorous) account of this whole, tedious process, visit this blog of another local Staunton historian.

The modern Halloween which we are familiar with, however, did not actually come into existence until the nineteenth century. During Shakespeare’s day, one may see the roots of our contemporary celebrations, yet, at this time, All-Hallows' Eve was still a highly religious-centric holiday. This was a world where ghouls and goblins weren’t the stuff of campfire ghost stories but were, instead, very real and ever-present in daily life. Men and women lived in fear of getting on these malevolent spirits’ bad sides, and they turned to a combination of the Church and old superstitions to protect themselves. Rather than going trick-or-treating, an Elizabethan child might have gone “a-souling,” or traveled door to door asking for “soul cakes” in return for prayers for souls of the dead. Shakespeare even references this practice in The Two Gentlemen of Verona when Speed, page to Valentine, tells his lord that a sure sign of love is that Valentine speaks whiningly, or “puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas” (II.i.25-26). To avoid being recognized by any ghosts who might be out and about, these Elizabethans would have worn masks – a predecessor of today’s costumes. The original jack-o-lanterns were actually turnips (pumpkins being native to the Americas), which were carved and placed in front of the home to ward off evil spirits.

Shakespeare would have been familiar with these traditions, and instances of the supernatural abound in his writing. The most famous probably occur in Macbeth, which was, many believe, written to cater to the interests of England’s reigning monarch, James I (previously James VI of Scotland). James had a particular fascination with witchcraft, even publishing his own book on the subject, the Daemonologie. Witchraft, of course, plays an integral role in the story of Macbeth in the form of the three Weird Sisters. The witches in this play are undeniably present, visible and powerful; they begin the play and set the plot in motion. Yet the whole play is awash in eerie, paranormal vibes. Lady Macbeth summons spirits to possess her, ghosts seat themselves at banquet tables, and ethereal daggers hover in midair. The veil between earth and the realm of the fantastic seems practically non-existent.

Some other particularly famous ghost cameos in Shakespeare include the appearance of the ghost of Hamlet’s father in Hamlet. Like the witches of Macbeth, this ghost “bodes some strange eruption to our state” (I.i.69), in that its appearance sets about a chain of events which alters fate of the kingdom. The ghost of the ex-king, however, is much more economical and somber of speech than the gleefully wicked Weird Sisters. He is a spirit come from the fires of hell, and he manifests in setting which feels far more ordered and Christian than the wild and gothic moors of Scotland. In addition, a multitude of ghosts are present in Richard III. The spirits of his past victims appear in a grisly parade before Richard on the eve of the Battle of Bosworth Field, reminding him of all his evil deeds. This ghostly army promises to fight on the site of Henry, Earl of Richmond (soon to be King Henry VII): “Be cheerful, Richmond, for the wronged souls of butchered princes fight in thy behalf,” intones the ghost of young Prince Edward (V.iii.121-122). Little Edward and his younger brother Richard, the Duke of York, are still said to haunt the Tower of London, scene of their supposed murder by their uncle Richard III. And then, of course, there’s the ghost of Caesar, who shows up to haunt Brutus in Julius Caesar and whose appearance most likely gave birth to the exclamation, “Great Caesar’s ghost!”

These are just a couple of examples; Shakespeare’s plays are packed full of magic, witches and wizards, mischief-making spirits, ghosts, and “murder most foul.” This All-Hallows' Eve, why not get in touch with Shakespeare’s spooky side? On closer inspection, he might be the perfect representative of the Halloween spirit.

Natalie A.

Also, if you want to forgo a more modern Halloween of Twilight costumes and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in favor of something more Shakespearean, here’s a nifty recipe for soul cakes from HistoricalFoods.

“And since I am dead, I can take off my head
To recite Shakespearean quotations!”

-Jack, the Pumpkin King
Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas

Adventures in Cacozelia

My work at the ASC continues, and I have moved on in my research to rhetoric – a term at once so broad and yet so focused that figuring out how to approach it has been a daunting task. This little word comes with a legion of ludicrously technical terms, all Greek or Latin in origin, with names like “synathroesmus” (a conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning or not) or “prozeugma” (a series of clauses in which the verb employed in the first is implied in the others). Some of these tongue-twisting terms (alliteration!) are familiar to us – words like sarcasm, intimation, and irony – but some seem like alien words sent from another planet (simile!). Plus, there are about a million of them, all, clearly, impossible to memorize (hyperbole!). But, after all, nothing ventured, nothing gained (apothegm!); I knew that I’d have to start somewhere. This was a tiny word of epic proportions (oxymoron!).

Still, rather than slog my way through this swamp of advanced concepts (metaphor!), I decided that I preferred the more loose definition of rhetoric simply as the effective and elegant use of language. While Shakespeare’s writing is indeed full of anthimerias (the substitution of one part of speech for another) and onomatopoeias (the use of words to imitate natural sounds), it is his skill in crafting masterful phrases with the English language which sticks most with modern audiences (emphasis!). That is to say (exepegisis!), many of the rhetorical devices which he employs are intuitive. An audience member does not need to be aware of the word “malapropism” to understand that Dogberry, the bumbling constable in Much Ado about Nothing, is a master of them. They simply see the humor in his confusion of “salvation” and “damnation” (III.iii.2), or laugh when he takes it as a compliment to be called “tedious” by the venerable Leonato, and to proclaim, “But truly, for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a king, I could find in my heart to bestow it all of your worship” (III.v.16-17).

By the same token, a person certainly needn’t be familiar with “asteismus” to enjoy Beatrice and Benedick’s competition utilizing this concept in the following exchange, each twisting the other’s words and throwing them back at them (Much Ado about Nothing, I..i..126-137):

BEATRICE I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.

BENEDICK God keep your ladyship still in that mind, so some gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate scratched face.

BEATRICE Scratching could not make it worse, and ‘twere such a face as yours were.

BENEDICK Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.

BEATRICE A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.

BENEDICK I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer.

Without knowing precisely what name to give the rhetorical content, one may still marvel (thaumasmus!) at Shakespeare’s wit in constructing such passages. In my opinion, it is possible to loathe the very idea of English grammar and its study (apodioxis!) and still to get great enjoyment from the way in which Shakespeare plays with words. Thus, while exploring the more intricate points of rhetoric may be fun and interesting, as I’ve discovered, there’s no need to worry about confusing one’s brachylogia and bdelygmia, or prodiorthosis and prosapodosis, to truly love Shakespeare.

Natalie A.

PS. If anyone wishes to become an expert on Classical or Renaissance rhetoric (or just memorize one or two especially crazy terms to impress people with at parties – parenthesis!), I recommend this extensive dictionary of rhetorical terms, the Silva Rhetoricae: http://rhetoric.byu.edu/.

Thoughts of a new intern...

Greetings! My name is Natalie Anderson, and I am the newest intern in the Education Department here at the American Shakespeare Center. Let’s see…I am a native of Brownsburg, VA (a teeny tiny village about half an hour south of Staunton), and I graduated from Guilford College in Greensboro, NC in May 2009, where I majored in History and minored in Medieval and Early Modern Studies, as well as Anthropology and German Language. I have been obsessed with medieval history and culture since I was in seventh grade (read: geek), and studying the Renaissance has certainly long held allure for me as well. Since graduating, my travels have taken me to some interesting places. I worked as an archaeologist for almost a year at Montpelier, the home of James Madison, and I spent this past summer studying Medieval Latin at the University of Toronto. But, that whole time, I was constantly searching all over the US for some sort of internship where I could indulge my love of all things medieval and Renaissance. Unfortunately, these proved highly elusive. I’d almost given up when it suddenly occurred to me: there is the perfect resource practically in my own backyard. So, here I am, back in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley researching Renaissance theatre – life is pretty good right now.

My internship here in Staunton involves working on a project entitled “Rehearsal Tools of the ASC.” This basically means that I have a list of terms – rhetoric, stage directions, costumes, props, fight choreography, etc. – which I spend my time investigating. My job is to find out as much as I can about what these terms meant in the realm of early modern theatre, and how acting companies of the time dealt with each item. What were their rehearsal schedules like? What did their costumes look like? How did they choreograph fights and dances? The second part of this project entails comparing the original practices to how things are done at the ASC and in Blackfriars today. So far, it’s been a blast. Each simple word, I’m discovering, is like the tiniest of windows which opens up into this immense, fascinating world of the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. Sometimes, of course, the torrent of information opening such a window can unleash is overwhelming. Yet sorting everything out, while challenging, is also exciting. I’ve started with dance and fight choreography, and I often find myself lost in fencing manuals or reading about the types and style of dance popular in the Elizabethan court. I recently spent a day at Mary Baldwin’s Grafton Library, tracking down primary sources and taking advantage of their incredible selection of Shakespeare-related works. Honestly, while it isn’t everybody’s cup of tea, I truly enjoy historical research – losing myself in a different time, bringing words back to life across centuries, the thrill of the hunt – and I’m looking forward to everything that is to come.

In addition, last Thursday I spoke with Colleen Kelly, the ASC’s Director of Training, who provided me with some fascinating insights into Shakespearean theatre and the plethora of ways in which production companies interpret these complex conditions for modern audiences. This made me think: the acts of dancing and fighting, particularly, are signposts of their times. Thus, the way in actors present these elements in the theatre help to set the tone of a play in a major way. After all, a duel with rapier and dagger present a very different image from, say, a shootout or a street-fight with switchblades. Yet Shakespeare’s plays leave themselves open for any of these interpretations. These are the sort of things one gets to mull over as an intern at the ASC. Already I’ve have numerous “Aha!” moments – those electrifying times when, all of a sudden, my brain connects two dots it has never thought to connect before, and I learn something totally new.

The final goal is for my research to appear on the ASC website, in order that it might help students, educators, or simply anybody who is interested in the various topics. Hopefully the end result will be well-made and useful, but, for me, the most fun will be in the creation.

Natalie A.

PEG Lecture 9/17/10

Today’s class, held in the Masonic building rather than the Blackfriars Playhouse, got the students up on their feet, which I think they enjoyed once they got over their nervousness. Dr. Ralph talked a bit about Taming of the Shrew to start off. Fortunately, all of the kids had seen our production. I didn’t realize that Taming has remained one of Shakespeare’s most popular plays and is today one of his biggest moneymakers. In the current production, Kate and Petruchio are very much in love, and he’s teaching her that, if she makes believe that things are a certain way (eg. the sun is the moon), she can win and have fun with it. The more interesting productions show the two of them in love, says Ralph.
The students broke into groups of two, each group having a few lines from Kate’s final monologue. Then one partner would perform it as a powerless woman and the other would perform it as powerful. I found the powerful portrayals generally more interesting. Many of the powerless ones were quiet and had no sarcasm. Kate would often look over at Petruchio (played by the silent Maxim) to check in with him, make sure he approved of what she said. Ralph said to pretend that if she got it wrong, he would beat the hell out of her afterwards. That definitely helped them seem powerless! Less hyperbolically, she looked to him for protection.
The powerful ones relied a lot on inflection and focus. One of her biggest sources of power was interaction not just with Bianca and the widow, but with women in the audience. She could use her blocking for power: sometimes she would stay still, sometimes she would draw near the audience, and sometimes she would stand behind her husband and look down at him when she was being sarcastic. And when she was out of his sight, he had no power. By the end, her power reached the level of pulling his hair while talking about being weaker and then putting her hand under his foot to push his chair over. I think everyone preferred a non-sexist interpretation of the text.
We ran out of time before we could do a similar exercise with a scene from Othello, the one where Emilia and Desdemona discuss the double standard for fidelity. I hope the other groups get to perform those scenes next week. It should be fascinating.

PEG Lecture 9/10/10

Today Dr. Ralph and his three assistants examined power in four scenes from II Henry IV. He also told them a little about the play, it’s plot, and Sir John Falstaff. Shakespeare originally called him Oldcastle, but the Oldcastle family demanded that he change it to Falstaff. Censoring art is a great example of power. Here are the four scenes:

Falstaff before the Chief Justice: Gower enters with a message for the justice, and Falstaff keeps trying to involve himself, asking questions. The justice ignores him completely. Ralph pointed out it’s much like high school, when the unpopular kid asks the popular group what’s up and the popular group drifts away without responding. I remember some experiences like that in high school, but it more reminded me of how people in power don’t have to respond to phone calls or letters. Ever tried to talk to a celebrity, or the head of a large company, or a prospective employer? They have the power, and they don’t have to reply when you contact them. Falstaff does keep some measure of power by repeatedly inviting Gower to dinner when the justice is trying to leave, annoying them and making it clear he knows how the justice is taking his power.

Falstaff in conscription mode: Ralph showed how relevant the scene was by telling us about when he was a young man and could have been drafted for Vietnam. I wouldn’t know about drafts—being blind has its perks! Of the six soldiers Falstaff can draft four of, two of them have their own power: money. They bribe Falstaff through Bardolph to pick poor soldiers less fit for the job than them. One tries to gain power through sympathy, but it’s the two pound bribe that carries the weight. There’s never truly an even playing field, explained Ralph.

Falstaff vs. Colaville of the Dale: Ralph had always envisioned this as a comic scene featuring a fight in which the cowardly Falstaff gains the upper hand over the bold rebel. His brilliant assistant, Brent, convinced him that it should be a serious scene. Colaville yields to Falstaff because he has heard so much of Falstaff’s (completely undeserved) valorous reputation. Although they both have swords, a base level of military power, the man with the power of reputation wins over the one with more military power. When Prince John enters, Falstaff tries to increase his power by making a big deal of his prisoner. John has no respect for him and uses his higher power to nullify Falstaff’s, sentencing Colaville to execution. Falstaff does pull out the power of the poet, saying that if John does not acknowledge he captured a noted rebel then he will have a ballad written in which he exceeds John. That was my favorite part. I have made use of that writer’s power before, mainly when I wrote an Aristophanic comedy about my college! Most people find subtle ballads and songs preferable.

We only looked briefly at the banishment of Falstaff. Now Hal is in absolute power and strips Falstaff of his. Powers higher still, however, Hal’s obligation to the kingdom and the law, force him to do so. Ralph notes that after Hal leaves, Falstaff acknowledges a debt for the first time in his life.

The day ended with Sarah assigning groups of students scenes to study from Love’s Labours Lost. I wonder if they’ll be performing those at the end? That play has some hilarious power scenes. Now I’m remembering the great production I saw this summer in the first session of YCTC.

PEG Class 9/3/2010

After Sarah’s introduction to the history and importance of Blackfriars, she introduced Dr. Ralph as the main lecturer. This year the PEG class studies power in Shakespeare. Ralph talked first about money as power, discussing how Blackfriars cost more than the Globe and how the people in gallant stools and lords chairs had more power, even pushing a nearby actor out of the way if he obscured their view. He then got Sarah, Jeff, and Maxim to perform several scenes, while he explored the power dynamics in each.

• Othello tells Desdemona to go to bed. First they performed it out of context, and it looked like they wanted to sleep together—the power of the conjugal debt. Also, Othello has power because he’s the husband giving the wife an order in public. Then they performed two versions of it in the context of Othello having recently struck her and being full of menace. Now power came from fear. After each time, Ralph asked the students what the power was to get them thinking, as opposed to just telling them, a good choice.
• Brabantio begs the duke to punish the man who stole his daughter. As a friend of the duke, Brabantio has some power. The duke has the most, and even though he shares it with senators he promises to soak the man with everything in the book. Brabantio fingers Othello, and the senators and then the duke “basically say, ‘bye-bye,’” as Ralph puts it, showing their power over Brabantio. The reason: Othello has the most power because they need him to save the city from the Turks. Despite what he says, Dr. Ralph’s not a bad actor.
• The scene from II Henry IV with Falstaff’s mistress, Nell Quickly, and the beadle. On the surface, the beadle has the power because he represents the law. By the end, however, the whore leads him offstage. She feels power because of her pregnancy and because she knows Falstaff, a big buddy of the new-crowned king. She also uses the power of language, very important to Shakespeare, as she insults the beadle. To show the power of insults, everyone got to insult Jeff as a nuthook and a pasty-face. The students sure enjoyed that.

Then, unfortunately, we ran out of time, demonstrating the Power of the Clock. It seemed to me that after each scene they had a good idea of the power dynamics. I wonder what they’ll do next week?

David

Final Reflection

So, it's my last day here at the ASC, which of course makes me think about the things I've learned during this experience. Obviously there are the tangible things--a long list of primary documents, folders and copies and handouts I've made that will soon be used or recycled, the general fluff left behind from anyone who works in an office.

And, there's the things that I've learned--for one, I have a whole host of new information, facts, and skills at my call. I spent a large amount of my energy last semester designing and thinking about my senior thesis project this spring, and now I have even more ideas and information to tangle with.

But more than that, this experience has allowed me to experience Shakespeare in a way I never have before. As a college, and a few years ago high school, student I primarily experienced Shakespeare as just that--a student. I was handed a text, told to read a certain amount by a certain day, and then come into class to talk about it. I had a teacher standing at the front of the room suggesting ideas and themes to think about. Now, there was nothing wrong with this experience. Nothing at all. My Shakespeare professor at St. Lawrence was wonderful, and my high and middle school teachers some of the best. But I was still a student. Shakespeare was still a task for me, a question to answer, an act to read, a paper to write, a guilt during friday morning class because I was sleepy, hungover, and thinking about the delicious breakfast I could wolf down in just twenty minutes....fifteen minutes....ten minutes.

Aside from being a student, I've interacted with Shakespeare before as an actor. Lucentio tenth grade. Peter Quince twelfth. Viola sophomore year. And these experiences were some of the most rewarding. Discovering a text as a character, peeling through the layers of history to find something whole and human and lovely inside of it, something that could then be brought alive. Of course, being young and knowing less than I do now, I don't think I ever exactly realized what I was doing onstage. Yes, I said the lines because they were in my script. I moved around because my director told me to. But I slipped into the perpetual deep trench of the unknowing actor, in which I pronounced my lines with the the general tone and air of what they meant, but without understanding the language itself. Watch any high school theater production, you will understand this phenomenon. It's almost a dumbshow in this respect, in that they could be saying anything at all with no changes in their performance. The acting is guided by tone and movement rather than language. It's a mark of a professional show and actor that their performance of Shakespeare is guided by the words and the text.

As such, for the first time really ever this summer I was allowed to interact with Shakespeare as I wanted. Sure, I was being told to find articles and primary source documents, but I found joy their pursuit. I clicked on links because I wanted to and pored over documents because I was genuinely interested in what I could learn from them. I hunted through articles and blogs, chatrooms and videos, all for the sake of learning. For the first time, I was able to interact with Shakespeare on my own terms. I didn't have a teacher giving me a text and a deadline, or a director shouting blocking cues. I went through the texts myself, and let them speak to me as they would. I got to learn Shakespeare, on my own and in my own way.

Think about the first time you ever read Shakespeare. Ever looked at or spoke the words, the first time you've interacted with the text. Mine was 8th grade, Mr. Davolio's classroom (see? I can even remember details) reading A Midsummer's Nights Dream. I remember where I was sitting, what the room felt like, the color and the weight of the book in my hands. And I remember thinking "Oh. This is pretty cool". My point is whatever professor or actor you talk to, whatever blogs you follow, whatever nerdy friends you have that you talk about Shakespeare with--they all remember that moment. They can all recall when they first interacted with a given text. Taming of the Shrew tenth grade. Hamlet twelfth. Much Ado sophomore year of college. Titus junior year. These plays are not historical documents, they are living pieces of work. They have history of their own, but they also create a history, a close, personalized, unique history, in the hands of their viewer, their reader, their player and their student. That's the real beauty of Shakespeare, of any play or piece of text--they reflect universal truths and genuine human emotions, but they're also all your own. It is for everyone, and also for you. I'm so grateful to the ASC that I was able to have this experience and learn everything I did. It opened my eyes to a whole new world of thinking about Shakespeare, and I'm sure I'll be back for more.

Carla Ricci