On Protestant Elizabethans practicing Catholicism in the theater

The principle of  “the double” functions in Shakespeare on both a character’s interior and exterior.  As for the exterior: There are doubles such as the twins Antipholus, and a doubling of the doubles with the twins Dromio, and this is not a principle that is unique to Comedy of Errors.   In Twelfth Night – a funnier play, in my opinion, and one that does not so transparently grasp for big themes the way that C of E does – we get the two sets of fraternal twins, Olivia and her brother, plus Viola and Sebastian.  In other plays you might not have twins but instead have counterparts and parallel relationships.

Interior doubling, by contrast, exists in the division of selves within a character – probably the essential theme that makes Shakespeare the writer that he is, possibly the greatest master of character and of theme.

The critic James Nohrnberg writes: “The effect of making persons out of performances, or of making identity performative, is generally acknowledged as only half the story, the other half being the interiority or “inwardness” of individual persons created by social pressures from without—and, I would add, from within as well:  thanks to a newly discovered valuation for personal idiosyncrasy, that thing that makes any Shakespeare play a tale told in public by a private idiot—as if the ecclesiastical practice of confession, removed from the sacraments by Protestant thinking about the inefficacy of sign-making, had found a new and significant home in the theatre.”

 

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Sex, money, and art in A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM

The reason to be interested in Shakespeare’s comedies is because they offer Shakespeare’s most direct thoughts and critiques (and some funny jokes) about social dilemmas, particularly those of love and marriage and family and money.  With these matters, Shakespeare suggests, there is often more than initially meets the eye, and the people who best see through these social constructs are creatures of imagination, people who themselves are a little bit batty, such as poets and lovers and madmen.

In MSND 5.1, we get an interesting riff on the imaginations of lovers and artists – this coming from Theseus, who prefaces his insights with two lines that suggest the shortcomings of his own apprehension and comprehension both.

Theseus:  More strange than true.  I never may believe / These antique fables, nor these fairy toys. / Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, / Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend / More than cool reason ever comprehends. / The lunatic, the lover and the poet / Are of imagination all compact. / One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, / That is the madman. The lover, all as frantic, / Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt. / The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, / Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; / And as imagination bodies forth / The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen / Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing / A local habitation and a name. / Such tricks hath strong imagination, / That, if it would but apprehend some joy, / It comprehends some bringer of that joy; / Or in the night, imagining some fear, / How easy is a bush supposed a bear!

There’s a lot here, obviously, including a few lines of ars poetica when Shakespeare describes the Poet.  One quick way to examine this passage, though, may be to unpack the meanings of the word “compact” in the phrase, “The lunatic, the lover, and the poet / Are of imagination all compact.”   One way to read this would be to say, simply, that “compact” here is a type of synonym for the word “composed.”   The lunatic, the lover, and the poet are composed of imagination: that is their essence.  I believe there are other useful meanings too in the word “compact” as it appears in this context.  One would be to think of the word “compact” as a type of contract.  In this way, lunatics and lovers and poets are all bound together by the contract of their imaginations, and therefore they are all keener to apprehend the world than to comprehend it.  Related meanings of “compact” would be “like-minded” or “alike.”    Finally, we can read “compact” to refer to an object in miniature, so that lunatics and lovers and poets are all archetypal of Imagination, and of the apprehensions of Imagination.

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Some Ado about Shakespeare

“Much Ado About Nothing” isn’t a play that consistently delights me, and  I would say that it is significantly inferior to Shakespeare’s four or five best comedies. But I think “Much Ado” is a good play for actors. When I didn’t particularly enjoy reading “Much Ado” earlier this summer, a few moments of fine wordplay notwithstanding, it occurred to me that, aside from the wisdom of giving Shakespeare the benefit of the doubt, I can settle on a principle for the few moments when Shakespeare seems oddly boring.  Shakespeare is probably the least boring writer in all of history, and when he makes mistakes it is usually a matter of bombast or of overdoing one aspect of a play; when something seems boring in Shakespeare (rather than bombastic, say) then it is because the material isn’t being presented well or interpreted properly. The principle, then, is that when something seems boring on stage there is usually something in the poetry that is being neglected – and, conversely, when something seems boring on the page it is usually b/c of a reader’s failure of imagination in how the scene should be dramatized on stage.

On a slightly different subject, one aspect of “Much Ado” that does at once move me and intrigue me is Leonato’s apparent grief in Act Five, Scene One.

Leonato:

I pray thee cease thy counsel / Which falls into mine ears as profitless / As water in a sieve. Give not me counsel, / Nor let no comforter delight mine ear / But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine. / Bring me a father that so loved his child, / Whose joy of her is overwhelmed like mine, / And bid him speak of patience. / Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine, / And let it answer every strain for strain, / As thus for thus, and such a grief for such, / In every lineament, branch, shape, and form. / If such a one will smile and stroke his beard, / And sorrow wag, cry “hem” when he should groan; / Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk / With candle-wasters; bring him yet to me, / And I of him will gather patience. / But there is no such man.  For, brother, men / Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief / Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it, / Their counsel turns to passion, which before / Would give preceptial medicine to rage, / Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, / Charm ache with air and agony with words. / No, no! Tis all men’s office to speak patience / To those that wring under the load of sorrow, / But no man’s virtue nor sufficiency / To be so moral when he shall endure / The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel; / My griefs cry louder than advertisement.

Antonio: Therein do men from children nothing differ.

Leonato: I pray thee peace. I will be flesh and blood; / For there was never yet philosopher / That could endure the toothache patiently, / However they have writ the style of the gods / And made a push at chance and sufferance.

What is remarkable about this is: 1) the pathos, and keen insights;  2) the fact that Leonato’s grief is feigned, because he knows his daughter is in fact not dead.   This turns this into a weird moment in the play, and for Leonato’s character to be psychologically realistic – and I say this recognizing that psychological realism is less important to most of the comedies than it is to the tragedies or the histories — he has to be a wise and experienced king imbued with the talent of an actor.  That’s not an unlikely reading, I suppose, because statesmen in Shakespeare are often skilled dissemblers — and, yet, the grief of a parent losing a child is something that would seem difficult to dissemble for a character who has not experienced the matter.  Another possibility is that Leonato is inspired, in a way, by his anger over the way his family has been mistreated – he certainly is motivated by these circumstances.  But it’s interesting that anger should inspire him to act (or feign) so well.

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CHINATOWN, plot, and the Noir plot

I was looking at a long old essay I did in 2006 about the Polanski/Towne movie Chinatown, an example of neo-Noir.   Although I wouldn’t write the same essay today, some portions of the essay may contain some useful thinking about plot.  I have put together a bowdlerized version of the essay below.   It is going to come to you without much scaffolding, and without much specific discussion of “Chinatown”, because what is below is a three-page excerpt from a 25-page essay.

The stories considered archetypal of the classic Noir era span an array of types. Audiences basically only can walk into the theater expecting a plot of intrigue, unlawfulness, and unreliable loyalties; no Noir guarantee exists that a good guy will survive, or that a good guy will even exist.    Some formal-structural characteristics do exist, though, and one is the way that the stories tend towards an unusual relationship between content and structure. Plot, typically an obvious element of art that purely serves as content, exists in Noir as both the significant element of content and of form. The most important formal qualities of Noir narrative have to do with the way the filmmakers manage to let story structure, narrative revelation, and perspective interact, placing the audience in the middle of the confusion the characters feel over the plot.

Let’s look at some literary plot structures — not plots, but plot structures — and consider how Noir plots relate.

PLOT TYPE #1: a narrative includes a plot which introduces a problem early in the story.  Tension surrounding the resolution of the problem builds until the point of the narrative’s denouement. ( There’s a cat stuck in a tree. Fire Dept comes & has trouble helping the cat. Finally the cat gets down.)  Examples:  Medea, Hamlet, and Moby Dick.  This plot structure/type could be reasonably stretched to include episodic stories ranging from Huck Finn to Candide to the novels of Joyce; and would include most genre works we could name.  Most any film, particularly among early movie history, also fits into this very broad plot structure – whether a comedy or a western or a gangster flick, the protagonists near the beginning of the story find themselves in a pinch or on the run or with a heist in mind, and the story takes off from there.

PLOT TYPE #2: One form of exception to the first plot structure occurs when the audience already knows near the beginning of the story both what is at stake and where the story will end. This second plot structure is built on suspense, a tension of how and when an action will take place. This structure, in terms of film, would include much of Hitchcock’s work, as well as a variety of other stories superficially quite different from one another; take, for example, the way Citizen Kane offers a version of this structure, with the upfront presentation that for all Kane’s acquisitions he could not re-acquire the world of “Rosebud,” and contrast Annie Hall and Alvy Singer’s presentation in the first scene that he and Annie have broken up.

PLOT TYPE #3: this structure is another form of twist on the first plot arc, that first arc being the common one in which a problem appears near the beginning of the story, and this same problem occasions the plot until the problem’s resolution near the end of the narrative.  The third structure, by contrast, presents a problem near the beginning of the story, and that problem ostensibly occasions the story. This problem is the superficial core problem of the narrative. The narrative, however, has in fact been occasioned by a hidden prior problem.

This third plot structure, then, includes Tom Jones, and, in terms of film, most Noir stories. In most High Noir, the superficial core problem is a murder plot or perhaps a necessary-but-unwanted involvement with criminals (think of Billy Wilder’s Double Indemnity or Jacques Tourneur’s Out of the Past) or in some cases, as with Touch of Evil, a murder that occurs right off the bat. The early murder (a device also used in Chinatown) of course occasions an investigation, but is not central to the hidden prior problem that in fact occasions the plot – occasions the plot insofar as this hidden problem will indeed become the focal point of the story. In much of High Noir, the hidden prior problem is simply a predetermined motive, a scheme behind a scheme that one of the characters has conjured. Double Indemnity or The Lady From Shanghai are good examples. In Double Indemnity, the hidden prior problem is Phyllis’ willingness to betray Neff, just like she would betray anyone else.  In The Lady From Shanghai, multiple characters have hidden schemes.

Film noir, Chinatown included, tends to quickly present the audience with the superficial core problem, and equally quickly preoccupy the audience with confusing surrounding circumstances, by placing the camera and the narrative perspective (whether third-person or voice-over-based first-person) behind the investigator protagonist. This collusion between perspective and narrative structure tends to be very successful in creating a mysterious tone and an aura of intrigue. When this happens, then plot (which in some stories is straightforwardedly a matter of narrative content, as with the stories of the first narrative structure) becomes a matter of form; plot in this case not only provides the content of the story which the audience witnesses, but also actively shapes the audience’s perception of the story.

The intrigue facing both the protagonist and the audience, while they together wander between the superficial core problem and recognition of the hidden prior problem, is manifold – questions exist of not just whodunit, but also of who can be trusted at all, of who is ultimately loyal to whom. In Chinatown, Jake Gittes wavers on whether Evelyn Mulwray is an honest character, and his uncertainty is aided by her varying explanations of who Katherine is and how she knew Hollis. Evelyn first claims that she has no idea who Hollis was going out with; then she lies to the police that she did initially hire Gittes but still didn’t know who Hollis was with; then she lies to Gittes that Hollis was having an affair but that she was happy about it and allowed it to go on; then she tells Gittes that Katherine is her sister, but she still doesn’t tell him the whole truth, perhaps reasonably believing at the moment that the whole truth would be gratuitous. Meanwhile, of course, the picture is clouded by the fact that other characters have their own secrets to hide. Gittes in part is potentially confused by the way that each new dark revelation about Noah Cross still leaves covered up plenty of other dirty secrets about his power and malfeasance.  The confusion and mysteries and intrigue in the plot of Chinatown are cleverly done, but Towne and Polanski do not do too much that veers far from noir convention; most of what distinguishes Chinatown is simply that the noir tone and noir form are done very well. The additional distinction of the movie relates to excellent writerly decisions. One of these is that Towne declines to write a hidden prior problem as a private scheme or premeditated double-crossing, but rather chooses to use a type of hidden prior problem in which this pre-narrative problem is externalized into a human event with multiple witnesses. Furthermore, Towne creates two of these hidden prior problems – one relating to Hollis Mulwray’s ability to read Noah Cross, and one relating to incest.  The problem with the witnesses, of course, is that they are either dead, or stuck in a position from which they too have to keep silent.

 


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Thoughts re Notes From Underground

After reading this short Dostoevsky novel, I’m left wondering why anyone much cares for it.  It seems to me that the book’s finer moments are weak versions of what you mind find in Kafka or Beckett, for example.   It’s also so bloated with parody of nineteenth-century Russian philosophy that, at moments, the book feels much longer than it needs to be — short as it is.

I’m writing this down here, though, because I would like to hear from people who disagree with me.  So, if you disagree, send me an e-mail or post a comment or whatever, and I will be glad to hear from you.

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About Andre Agassi’s “Open”

This is one of the few sports books I’ve read that wasn’t a waste of time.  Agassi is a fascinating guy for many reasons, and is almost infinitely more interesting than most other pro athletes.  Almost all the reasons have to do with the degree to which he is sensitive and self-aware.  One can imagine that, if he had had different life circumstances, Agassi could have been an excellent writer.  Of course, Agassi’s formal education was quite limited, and much of the book’s delivery is filtered through his co-writer.   The result is a book that has a fine narrative pace, and that is well-suited for a very fast form of reading, if it’s occasionally frustrating because you have to wonder if the co-writing is ever diminishing (or heavily revising) Andre’s own voice.

Anyway, what it comes down to is that this is a great read for almost anyone simply because the content of Agassi’s life is so unusual, and because this memoir is obviously an honest and rigorous self-examination.  If you have doubts about giving Agassi a chance, I’d suggest listening to the 2009 interview that Terry Gross did with him for Fresh Air.

For tennis fans, I also would like to recommend a look at some old Agassi clips.  There’s something charming about the way the young Agassi simply looks like a sensitive kid on the court: Andre Agassi in 1988, v. Jimmy Connors at U.S. Open

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On O’Neill’s Netherland

I finally got around to reading Netherland, and I enjoyed it a great deal.  I also read Zadie Smith’s somewhat-negative take on the book in her New York Review of Books essay of three years ago, “Two Paths for the Novel.”  Here is Smith’s essay, which makes for an interesting conversation piece, I suppose:

http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2008/nov/20/two-paths-for-the-novel/?page=1

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Open thread on Malcolm’s The Journalist and The Murderer?

I hope this can be a post where the two of us writers can share some thoughts (and, through dialogue, develop some thoughts) about the Janet Malcolm text The Journalist and The Murderer.  After Ian first blogged about the book in May, I spent a pleasant June day bicycling to the beach and reading it myself.

Joe McGinniss doesn’t come off looking so good. Of course, McGinniss shouldn’t look good.  His writing and reporting on the MacDonald case were sloppy; he muddied the subject more than he clarified anything; he became excessively close to his subject, MacDonald; he became a business partner of MacDonald; he joined MacDonald’s legal defense team; he wrote MacDonald dozens of clumsy and deceptive letters as a way of eliciting further information when he was stuck in his own writing.  And then he wrote a bad book: he portrayed a complicated case as if it was simple, and he depended uncritically on psychobabble.

Subsequent to the publication of Malcolm’s book, McGinniss (unsurprisingly) made a series of ad hominem attacks against Malcolm.  His poorly-argued point seemed to be that he, McGinniss, felt like Malcolm was too hard on him and too easy on MacDonald. MacDonald, of course, is the “murderer” in Malcolm’s title, although Malcolm’s writing, and subsequent legal developments, calls into question whether MacDonald was indeed guilty of the crime for which he was convicted.

It seems to me that the question people should discuss is not whether Malcolm is too hard on McGinniss, but whether Malcolm is too easy on McGinniss.   An extension of Malcolm’s thesis, after all, is that McGinniss’s sins and misdeeds are merely a matter of common journalistic misdeeds writ large.  In arguing that McGinniss’s story is one of journalistic misdeeds writ large, is Malcolm, in a way, letting McGinniss off the hook for being as unethical as he is?  Or else, by the same token, is she being too hard on all the other journalists who are, so to speak, just a little bit unethical?

I agree with Malcolm’s broad thesis that journalism in general is usually — if not always — “morally indefensible” and a form of “treachery.”   I question whether McGinniss is in fact archetypal of journalistic treachery or not, though — because his treachery may not be principally journalistic.  McGinniss’ treachery is certainly of a more severe magnitude than typical journalistic treachery, as Malcolm argues. It seems to me that McGinniss’ treachery may also be of a more severe kind, of a different type altogether, than average journalistic treachery.    After all, he didn’t lose his court case (the lawsuit MacDonald won against him) because he wrote a bad book.  He lost his court case because he chose to be MacDonald’s business partner and then, in written correspondence, lied to him so routinely and egregiously.

Ian, what do you think?  Is MacDonald an archetypal bad journalist, or is he something worse, i.e. an archetypal bad man?

 

 

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A shame that Ellroy won’t tip his hat to a good shamus

I was just looking again at Ian’s post of July 20 on this blog.  I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that James Ellroy’s criticism of Raymond Chandler is frivolous, and is based purely on Ellroy’s egotistical effort to clear more space in the genre for himself.   I forgive Ellroy the man; I know that writers have messy and complicated psychologies.  But I do not forgive Ellroy’s sentiment that Chandler is not a good writer!   Chandler is funny, and he describes well — if you can do those things as well as Chandler does, then that’s all you really need.

The problem with Ellroy’s criticism is that it’s unfair to judge Chandler by a standard of realism, because he never attempts to be a realist.  If Ellroy wants to write off every writer who creates a world (out of fear, or out of love) that doesn’t quite correspond to daily reality, then Ellroy lives in a world with a lot fewer greats than I do.   Poor Jim.

Ian:  as something of a tangent, I thought I would recommend Claudia Roth Pierpont’s piece on Hammett, of 2/11/2002,  “Tough Guy”, one that I remember reading eagerly in Green Library the month that it came out.

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David Foster Wallace on David Lynch

There’s a fine interview of David Foster Wallace on the Charlie Rose Show of 3/27/97.  This is a transcript of a section in which they discuss the work of David Lynch and the notion of the “Lynchian.”

DFW: What Lynchian means is something about the unbelievably grotesque existing in kind of union with the unbelievably banal….Jeffrey Dahmer was borderline Lynchian.

CR: Borderline.

DFW: Well, the refrigerator.  And actually what was Lynchian was having the actual food products next to the disembodied bits of the corpse. Um, I guess the big one is, you know, a regular domestic murder is not Lynchian. But if the police come to the scene and see the man standing over the body and that — let’s see — the woman’s Fifties bouffant is undisturbed, and the man and the cops have a conversation about the fact that the man killed the woman because she persistently refused to buy, say for instance, JIF peanut butter rather than SKIPPY and how very very important that is, and if the cops found themselves somehow agreeing that there were major differences between the brands and that a wife who didn’t recognize those differences was deficient in her wifely duties, that would be Lynchian. This weird confluence of very dark, surreal, violent stuff and absolute almost Norman-Rockwell banal American stuff.

And here is a link to the whole interview:  http://www.charlierose.com/view/interview/5639

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