The first problem you have with the appreciation of literature is neatly encapsulated in a scene from a David Lodge novel. Where an English professor specialising in Jane Austen ‘proves’ that during the blandest and most innocuous exchange two people could possibly share, the female character (I believe it was Fanny, of all people) had an orgasm.
Even when it comes to DH Lawrence, sometimes you can’t help feeling that the sky is just blue.
The other problem you have is that you quite like Shakespeare.
But you have never been able to shake the sneaking feeling that you like him because know he’s good (everyone says so) rather than because of any critical appreciation of genuine craftsmanship on your own part. Particularly since you enjoy Shakespeare more at the theatre than on the page. Over the years people have put a lot of time and effort into interpreting Shakespeare, so whereas you might end up going to see a lacklustre performance of anything else simply because the performers have missed the point, 400 years (or so) after Shakespeare was first put on you’d expect people to have a reasonable idea of what works and what doesn’t. And then, of course, you can usually persuade good actors to get involved which also, you’d imagine, helps.
Which brings us to your reason for being in Regent’s Park the other day. You were there to attend a performance in their open air theatre of Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Now admittedly the last time you gave this play any serious thought was when you were about 12 during English classes. That said, there’s no denying it’s a play that bothers you.
There are improbable nobles in exotic and historically ludicrous settings. There are fairies and magic and a man with the head of a donkey. There are pretty women gallivanting around a forest at night. And as for the play within the play, when you paused between gales of laughter you got a powerful vision of Shakespeare’s manager insisting on him adding something to allow even more Jim Carey style business than even the ass’s head did purely for the reason that it would please the people in the cheap seats. You certainly can’t quite see how else it got there as it certainly feels like the sort of thing they show while the credits are rolling to enliven the lives of the sort of people who like to stay to the very end. Or buy DVDs for the ‘additional scenes’.
And of course, you enjoyed yourself hugely. But this is rather the point as, god knows, you don’t demand highbrow intellectual material for your cinema (or theatre) going experiences. Definitely a big guns and loud explosions sort of girl you are, although you can be seduced by a good sword fight.
So in the end you just can’t help but wonder if something that has so obviously been written for the lowest common denominator can really be said to be among the literary masterpieces of this or any other age.
Hmm, good point! His plays don’t *always* appeal to the lowest common denominator, but many of his comedies certainly do,which is something I’d never really thought about. However, can you imagine people still finding (for example) Little Britain or a Ray Cooney farce funny in 400 years? I haven’t seen …Dream for years, so can’t really comment on this particular one.
Eh heh heh heh.
Don’t get me started. I can be so boring about Shakespeare.
Only, it is possible to do Midsummer Night’s Dream as a glorious, somewhat low-brow lark. And it is possible to do it as a dark, subversive ferkle about in the seamier undercarriages of human sexuality. And as a lyrical and romantic fantasy. None of these interpretations feel forced, or hammered on by a director being ‘PoMo’. Shakespeare plays go on and on and ON and ON like old warhorses not because they are amazingly clever, or great literature, or even very good sometimes, but because they are extraordinarily, almost frighteningly versatile.
Bother. I had said ‘don’t get me started’. Sorry.
Is it allowed to say that not everyone enjoys all of Shakespeare’s plays? That said person is willing to acknowledge the genius of the playwrite,but doesn’t go out of her way to actually read him or even watch theatrical productions of the plays, because she, well, finds it all too much like being back in school and would rather spend her time watching Little Britain?
*dodges tomatoes* Guess not.
Well, as _not_ a fully paid up fan of Little Britain, I do think that the whole Computer Said No series does deserve to go down in the annals of Absolutely Spot On Satire for the 2000s. B has taken to using it to explain the UK to people back home.
It’s interesting about the versitility. Of course that’s right. I can see myself going back and back until I’m old(er) and creaky(er) and still thinking ‘Ah’.
I have to say I approach all Litrichuh with the suspicion of someone who knows it is Good For You, despite the fact that I quite enjoy it once I’m in. The problem is, that I quite like going to the theatre, yet aside from Shakespere, who I know I’ll probably enjoy, whenever I look for a suitable play all that seems on offer is something terribly worthy and drear about Someone Struggling Through Mindbogglingly Dull Adversity in a New Town and Learning Something About Himself. And musicals are
expensive.
That isn’t a problem for me, I’m afraid. We don’t have any theatre to attend. I have watched several of the plays that were filmed. It’s not that they’re bad – obviously wouldn’t still be making them if they were. It is just that something like Little Britain is pure escapism and lets me relax. Shakespeare is harder work.
I wonder if I had had a better English Lit teacher when I was in school if I would like Shakespeare better?
Well, you don’t hear me arguing about the value of escapist entertainment.
No theatre at all?
Not real theatre. School drama classes is about it. Along with an amateur group that is pretty dreadful. The high school students are better.
Sol, I know I’m hardly unbiased on this issue, but if you want some cheaper theatre, it’s worth checking out the amateur circles. Some, like Hyp’s local group, are dreadful, but you can also seem some stunning productions. London has oodles of amateur groups doing plays and musicals, so odds are that there must be a decent one near you.
Shakespeare performed live is better than Shakespeare on film, which is itself at least ten times better than Shakespeare on the page. I have almost wet myself laughing at some productions I’ve seen, and have also been spellbound by the more tragic/serious plays. But then, I could waffle for hours about the immediacy of theatre, catharsis and so on!
Actually, you’re right, David. My boss belongs to a light op society, so I’ve been going to their shows every now and again, which aren’t bad at all. I particularly enjoyed their Iolanthe – which I played back when I was good enough for people to pay for my musical services, but being stuck in the orchestra pit doesn’t give you much of an idea of what’s going on. Their next one will be at Xmas.
Mind you, they still cost 15 quid, which I can’t help thinking is a bit steep for non professionals.
Gosh, Hyp, even my home town, which has the distinction of having not one but two bookshops go bust and turn into amusement arcades, had a theatre. Although come to think of it I’ve only ever been there for pantos and amatuer performances.
We live in different worlds, that’s for sure. I am frankly envious of all of you. I think I would enjoy my life a lot more if I had more cultural options available. My UK friends are always talking about their weekends – concerts, museums, galleries, theatre. I watch the grass grow on weekends. It’s a long drive for me to get anywhere with interesting things going on. And no one to go with me, if I do want to take off. My local friends are nice people, but we don’t really have a lot of choice who we have for friends here. We don’t have a lot in common.
*Scratches nose* I was thinking not so long ago that, most of the time, for all the advantage I take of living in nodnol, I might as well not.