Ode to the Master

 

 

 

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? (Sonnet 18)

William Shakespeare, 1564 - 1616

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.
     So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
     So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Prologues and Wasted Pages

PROLOGUE

Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

The famous prologue to Romeo and Juliet, tells us all we need to know.  A prologue is, as Shakespeare said, 'where we lay our scene.'

The beginning of any novel, play, short story, or screen play, is so plagued with back story, the stetting of the stage, that it often needs to be cut, and cut, and cut again. At the beginning, when you only have a vague notion of what you want to say, many pages are often spent casting about in the dark. More often than not, those pages need to go into the waste basket. A well written prologue can take the place of three chapters of laying the scene. It is wise to re-write the prologue last, as it must encompass the whole story in a nut shell, as it were. Looking at Shakespeare's brilliant prologue, we know what story we are going to hear. Not only do we know what it will be about, we are excited to watch it play out. That is the essence of a great prologue.

Writing Subtext: What Lies Beneath

The greatest dialogue in plays, films, or books, manages to impart that which is said and that which has been left unsaid. The elephant in the room, as it were, will keep everyone guessing. A literal definition of subtext describes a message which is not stated directly, but can be inferred. It pertains to the hidden, less obvious meaning perhaps archly delivered by some of our greatest actors.

How is it done? Isn't dialogue hard enough without adding this to the mix? The answer is yes.

Studying the book entitled, Writing Subtext: What Lies Beneath, by Linda Seger I have gained some insight as to how a writer can manage to achieve this. If the audience is let in on a secret, there will be much that can be read into the simplest of statements. A daughter may pretend to like the suitor her father picked out for her, but if we know that she secretly loves someone else, there will be a subtext to all she says. If a mother only wants what is best for her son, but does not want a daughter-in-law who is above her in social standing, she may seem to be welcoming this newcomer, but we will read into her attempts to be friendly. In some cases, such as the world of Shakespeare's Hamlet, the whole of Denmark can be slightly rotten. If the ascendency to power is suspect, the dialogue will be full of subtext. Obviously, Shakespeare was a master at this skill. He would even have a character walk down stage and let the audience in on a few secrets. A sudden windfall, an unlikely suitor, a change of leadership, or even a new invention, can put all known truths under a new microscope. Perhaps everyone is trying to make the adjustment, but no one wants to. There you will see subtext.

A character at odds with the culture about which the audience is familiar, will provide many a laugh as the poor fellow bumbles along, unaware of his missteps. Subtext is an essential tool in the comedians toolkit. In a tragedy, the very elements left unsaid, can be the ones propelling everyone to their doom.

While thinking about this topic, my thoughts lead me straight to a much loved play, namely, "The Importance of Being Ernest." Oscar Wilde states it flat out in Act 1, Scene 1. Two characters, Algernon and Jack, have a discussion while waiting for guests to arrive for tea. Discussing names Jack says,

"Well, my name is Ernest in town and Jack in the country."

Algernon:

"I have always suspected you of being a confirmed Bunburyist; and I am quite sure of it now."

Jack:

"Bunburyist? What do you mean Bunburyist?"

Algernon:

"I'll reveal to you the meaning of that incomparable expression as soon as you are kind enough to inform me why you are Ernest in town and Jack in the country."

"The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Modern life would be very tedious and modern literature a complete impossibility."

By the time the guests arrive, we have learned that both Bunbury and the Jack/ Ernest situation, are used as an excuse. When in town Ernest must leave at once as his brother Jack is in a pickle. When in the country, it is Ernest who calls him away, thereby providing the perfect excuse to escape social functions to which he is less than enthusiastic. Bunbury provides a similar ruse. Through the remaining scenes of this immortal play, all references to these characters are loaded with subtext.

Characters sometimes do not know themselves. Their most basic drives and instincts may be covered up by social convention, or self delusion. The stage may be full of actors whose roles are at cross purposes. Therein lies the subtext.

Playwright & Poet - Ben Jonson, Friend of Shakespeare

I’m sure  many today  are familiar with the quote, Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine,  but I wonder how many know it was written by Ben Jonson  in the 17th  century.   It is the opening line  of his poem , Song: To  Celia. 

Or this  from Catiline. Act III. Sc. I ,  Bad men excuse their faults, good men will leave them. 

And  in his poem , To the Memory of My Beloved the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare, Jonson wrote, He was not of an age, but for all time !    These many centuries later we  still recognize Jonson’s words referring to  Shakespeare as being profound,  and true.

Perhaps the same could easily be said of Jonson, if his  notoriety had been more acclaimed throughout the years. Or if he hadn’t been overshadowed by the great Bard.  Jonson , best known for his plays Volpone, and The Alchemist, was a contemporary of Shakespeare —both  were poets, playwrights, satirists.   They were friends, but according to biographers, it was a  complicated friendship .  No doubt, Jonson being Shakespeare’s biggest rival, there was  competition between them. 

 It wasn’t until Shakespeare's death Ben Jonson become the leading literary figure of the Jacobean era  (  the reign of James I), and enjoyed popularity as writer of masques.  Citing Wikipedia,   the Masque was a form of courtly entertainment which flourished in the 16th and 17th century Europe. In England, Tudor court masques developed from earlier guisings, where a masked allegorical figure would appear and address the assembled company—providing a theme for the occasion—with musical accompaniment; masques at Elizabeth’s court emphasized  the concord and unity between Queen and Kingdom.  Ben Jonson wrote a number of masques.   His   works are usually thought of as the most significant in the form.   Jonson’s , Masque of Blackness  was written as the request of Anne of Denmark who wished the masquers to be disguised as Africans. For synopsis of Masque of Blackness visit  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Masque_of_Blackness

Jonson’s name  is once again  making news as Science Daily reports , Literary Detectives  Unravel Famous Ben Jonson Mystery (October 25, 2011) . According to the internet source a manuscript hidden among papers in an ancient  family archive sheds new light  on  Ben Jonson , detailing his famous walk from London to Scotland in 1618,  written by his  unidentified companion. According to the article,  the  newly discovered , 7,500 word manuscript helps reconstruct  a large missing piece of  Jonson’s life story.   Until now, it was thought Jonson made the trek alone.   Julie Sanders, professor of English Studies at the University of Nottingham says, “ His  encounters with the regional and cultural geographies of England and Scotland had a profound impact  on what he went on to write afterwards and the manuscript allows us new insight into his work and the society of his time.” 

 One of my favorite Jonson poems , Inviting a Friend to Supper  is  included in  Elizabethan and Jacobean POETS Marlowe to Maxwell, edited by W.H. Auden and Norman Holmes Pearson.   It begins,

Tonight, grave sir, both my poore house , and I 

Doe equally desire your companie:

Not that we thinke us worthy of such a ghest, 

But that your worth will dignifie our feast,

With those that come; whose grace may make  that

seeme, 

Something, which, else, could hope for no esteeme.

The ending reads,

Nor shall our cups make any guiltie men:

But, at our parting, we will be, as when

We innocently met.  No simple word,

That shall be utter'd at our mirthful boord,

Shall make us sad next morning: or affright

The libertie, that wee'll enjoy to night.

I've read these verses many times, and always smile as I so easily picture two friends enjoying each other's company, sharing a meal and happy conversation in the comfort and warmth of home. Thinking well  of  one another, free to be themselves. 

On a bookshelf at my mother’s house is a copy of an old  worn book that had been in her grandmother's family for a long time,  Poetical Album of Choice Reflections of Poetry and Song, copyright 1893.  It is where I first read Jonson's  poem, Song: To  Celia when I was just a young girl.    One of the entries is a   short biographical sketch of Ben Jonson  that seems more  an epitaph on a grave side marker,   “Rare Ben Jonson”  born in England 1574. Died 1637.  Man of marked ability and strong character, not displaying any finished style in writing, yet infusing a rugged strength, and showing a masterly grasp of the subject which made him one of the famous authors of his time. His drama and tragedies were popular, and he received a pension from the crown, but on account of his prodigal habits he died in poverty.

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