Problem Play
Nov. 30th, 2005 09:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ricardienneThis livejournal is a place for me to think out loud. Or rather, not out loud. Because things get spinning around in my head and I absolutely cannot concentrate on anything else. That last entry was bouncing around me head for a good two and half days (ever since I saw the play, that is). That being said, the same disclaimer applies as did to the last entry:
Some things have been bothering me about Measure for Measure.
I. What is the point? By the end of the play, NOTHING has changed. The same laws that the duke was so anxious to have enforced have been pretty much thrown out all over again. And there doesn't seem likely to be any lasting consequence for anyone:
She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore.
Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo:
I have confess'd her and I know her virtue.
Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness:
There's more behind that is more gratulate.
Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy:
We shill employ thee in a worthier place.
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's:
The offence pardons itself.
Talk about flip-flopping!
For first, in the very beginning, we had
Angelo:--
In our remove be thou at full ourself;
Mortality and mercy in Vienna
Live in thy tongue and heart
and
Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do
With any scruple; your scope is as mine own
So to enforce or qualify the laws
As to your soul seems good.
But then, in that final climactic scene:
DUKE VINCENTIO
I have bethought me of another fault.
Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded
At an unusual hour?
PROVOST
It was commanded so.
DUKE VINCENTIO
Had you a special warrant for the deed?
PROVOST
No, my good lord; it was by private message.
DUKE VINCENTIO
For which I do discharge you of your office:
Give up your keys.
Very well, except that he originally authorized Angelo with all of his own power. So if it wasn't right for Angelo to summarily order Claudio executed, can it be right for the duke to order
We do condemn thee to the very block
Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste.
Away with him!?
But here, in this last speech, the Duke asks:
Forgive, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's:
The offence pardons itself.
But even if it "pardons itself" the fact that he makes a request of it implies somehow that there is a fault, that the provost should have obeyed. Which ties back the original idea.
And once again we have this urging of Mariana's virtue on Angelo. As if he actually might have some sort of good reason for questioning it. But what reason can he possibly have. The play has made clear that the break was over the dowery, and the 'levity' thing was just an excuse. Mariana is so ridiculously virtuous that she still wants to marry the man who dumped her and impugned her reputation, for crying out loud! The one who wants to marry the man who would only look at her because he thought she was someone else!
Yes, I do think that Angelo is basically okay, but even so… she had better give him a talking to once they get back to the Moated Grange and all!
II. How can Isabella possibly accept the duke?
a) She's known him what? Three days? Tops? And most of those three days she knew him as a priest while she still pursued her convent vocation. In other words, neither was in a position to do anything romantic whatsoever.
b) He's lied to her how many times? Never mind his identity for a moment. First he tells her that her brother has been killed -- putting her through I don't know what kind of trauma -- when he hasn't been. Then he tells her to make her case to the duke, who will give her justice, but, when he appears in that guise, he pretends to disbelieve her, basically putting her into a position of public shame (granted, she doesn't know that it's the same person, but by the time he proposes, she must have figured it out). Then, when reveals his dual identity, he confirms the lie about her brother, only to bring him out at the last minute: just kidding!
So she's faced with this person she absolutely can't trust, who is sometimes for her, sometimes against her, always saying that he's acting in her interests, but practically speaking, all over the place, and for what? To teach his deputy a lesson? Because that's what the whole play seems to amount to, almost. And then he expects her to marry him?
Maybe she feels obligated: he's saved her brother's life and her honor. Maybe she's afraid: who knows what he'll do next if she crosses him. But in either case, isn't the result basically the same as it would have been had she accepted Angelo's original proposition? She gives sex and the guy protects her brother?
Okay, okay, I know that it's quite possible that she's fallen in love with him, or that she realizes that being a duchess is potentially better than being a nun. Or because she wants to make Angelo's life hell by always being at court and always ranking above him, with the unspoken idea that she could take revenge at any moment. But a soliloquy to that effect (that she has fallen in love with the friar/duke) would have been nice. Really. It would be a nice counterpoint to Angelo's anguished ones. Here she is, a nun, in love with a priest, and they're all muddled up in several someone elses' illicit loves to begin with. I mean come on, Shakespeare, what were you thinking leaving that out?!
So, Merchant of Venice came up on Sheroes today, and we were talking about the unfairness of Portia in espousing "the quality of mercy" and then declining to show any to Shylock.
I was going to say that at least Isabel, who makes a similar argument:
No ceremony that to great ones 'longs,
Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Become them with one half so good a grace
As mercy does.
AND
Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once;
And He that might the vantage best have took
Found out the remedy. How would you be,
If He, which is the top of judgment, should
But judge you as you are? O, think on that;
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made.
(Compare to:'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings
AND
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.)
That Isabel, at least, comes full circle and actually acts on her own exhortation, when she has her adversary in a bad position.
BUT, she doesn't. She pleads for clemency, yes, but how!:
Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
As if my brother lived: I partly think
A due sincerity govern'd his deeds,
Till he did look on me: since it is so,
Let him not die. My brother had but justice,
In that he did the thing for which he died:
For Angelo,
His act did not o'ertake his bad intent,
And must be buried but as an intent
That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subjects;
Intents but merely thoughts.
She argues in legalisms: Angelo didn't technically do anything wrong, so he shouldn't die. She's still so rigid that she can see her brother's death as justice. And it's true: technically speaking, all Angelo does by the end of the play is sleep with his pre-contracted fiancée. (Now, it seems that this is what Claudio and Juliet did, too -- right down to the marriage never being finalized over dowery issues.) So mercy is completely voided out, really.) If only Angelo hadn't slipped himself, it would have been perfectly okay for him to execute Claudio? That seems to be what Isabel is saying. That seems to be what the Duke is saying when he proclaims that, "he who the sword of heaven would bear/ should be as holy as severe." Does this mean that we're only obligated to be as moral as the best of our officials? (So it's perfectly fine for me to steal, cheat, lie, and murder, then, because the entire government is doing the same?)
That's why the duke can't enforce the law in the beginning, I suppose, because he just isn't pure enough. But Angelo is tested, too, and found wanting. Strict justice sort of devolves into mercy by default. That's weird. More on it later, perhaps.
Some things have been bothering me about Measure for Measure.
I. What is the point? By the end of the play, NOTHING has changed. The same laws that the duke was so anxious to have enforced have been pretty much thrown out all over again. And there doesn't seem likely to be any lasting consequence for anyone:
She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore.
Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo:
I have confess'd her and I know her virtue.
Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness:
There's more behind that is more gratulate.
Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy:
We shill employ thee in a worthier place.
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's:
The offence pardons itself.
Talk about flip-flopping!
For first, in the very beginning, we had
Angelo:--
In our remove be thou at full ourself;
Mortality and mercy in Vienna
Live in thy tongue and heart
and
Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do
With any scruple; your scope is as mine own
So to enforce or qualify the laws
As to your soul seems good.
But then, in that final climactic scene:
DUKE VINCENTIO
I have bethought me of another fault.
Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded
At an unusual hour?
PROVOST
It was commanded so.
DUKE VINCENTIO
Had you a special warrant for the deed?
PROVOST
No, my good lord; it was by private message.
DUKE VINCENTIO
For which I do discharge you of your office:
Give up your keys.
Very well, except that he originally authorized Angelo with all of his own power. So if it wasn't right for Angelo to summarily order Claudio executed, can it be right for the duke to order
We do condemn thee to the very block
Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste.
Away with him!?
But here, in this last speech, the Duke asks:
Forgive, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's:
The offence pardons itself.
But even if it "pardons itself" the fact that he makes a request of it implies somehow that there is a fault, that the provost should have obeyed. Which ties back the original idea.
And once again we have this urging of Mariana's virtue on Angelo. As if he actually might have some sort of good reason for questioning it. But what reason can he possibly have. The play has made clear that the break was over the dowery, and the 'levity' thing was just an excuse. Mariana is so ridiculously virtuous that she still wants to marry the man who dumped her and impugned her reputation, for crying out loud! The one who wants to marry the man who would only look at her because he thought she was someone else!
Yes, I do think that Angelo is basically okay, but even so… she had better give him a talking to once they get back to the Moated Grange and all!
II. How can Isabella possibly accept the duke?
a) She's known him what? Three days? Tops? And most of those three days she knew him as a priest while she still pursued her convent vocation. In other words, neither was in a position to do anything romantic whatsoever.
b) He's lied to her how many times? Never mind his identity for a moment. First he tells her that her brother has been killed -- putting her through I don't know what kind of trauma -- when he hasn't been. Then he tells her to make her case to the duke, who will give her justice, but, when he appears in that guise, he pretends to disbelieve her, basically putting her into a position of public shame (granted, she doesn't know that it's the same person, but by the time he proposes, she must have figured it out). Then, when reveals his dual identity, he confirms the lie about her brother, only to bring him out at the last minute: just kidding!
So she's faced with this person she absolutely can't trust, who is sometimes for her, sometimes against her, always saying that he's acting in her interests, but practically speaking, all over the place, and for what? To teach his deputy a lesson? Because that's what the whole play seems to amount to, almost. And then he expects her to marry him?
Maybe she feels obligated: he's saved her brother's life and her honor. Maybe she's afraid: who knows what he'll do next if she crosses him. But in either case, isn't the result basically the same as it would have been had she accepted Angelo's original proposition? She gives sex and the guy protects her brother?
Okay, okay, I know that it's quite possible that she's fallen in love with him, or that she realizes that being a duchess is potentially better than being a nun. Or because she wants to make Angelo's life hell by always being at court and always ranking above him, with the unspoken idea that she could take revenge at any moment. But a soliloquy to that effect (that she has fallen in love with the friar/duke) would have been nice. Really. It would be a nice counterpoint to Angelo's anguished ones. Here she is, a nun, in love with a priest, and they're all muddled up in several someone elses' illicit loves to begin with. I mean come on, Shakespeare, what were you thinking leaving that out?!
So, Merchant of Venice came up on Sheroes today, and we were talking about the unfairness of Portia in espousing "the quality of mercy" and then declining to show any to Shylock.
I was going to say that at least Isabel, who makes a similar argument:
No ceremony that to great ones 'longs,
Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Become them with one half so good a grace
As mercy does.
AND
Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once;
And He that might the vantage best have took
Found out the remedy. How would you be,
If He, which is the top of judgment, should
But judge you as you are? O, think on that;
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made.
(Compare to:'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings
AND
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.)
That Isabel, at least, comes full circle and actually acts on her own exhortation, when she has her adversary in a bad position.
BUT, she doesn't. She pleads for clemency, yes, but how!:
Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
As if my brother lived: I partly think
A due sincerity govern'd his deeds,
Till he did look on me: since it is so,
Let him not die. My brother had but justice,
In that he did the thing for which he died:
For Angelo,
His act did not o'ertake his bad intent,
And must be buried but as an intent
That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subjects;
Intents but merely thoughts.
She argues in legalisms: Angelo didn't technically do anything wrong, so he shouldn't die. She's still so rigid that she can see her brother's death as justice. And it's true: technically speaking, all Angelo does by the end of the play is sleep with his pre-contracted fiancée. (Now, it seems that this is what Claudio and Juliet did, too -- right down to the marriage never being finalized over dowery issues.) So mercy is completely voided out, really.) If only Angelo hadn't slipped himself, it would have been perfectly okay for him to execute Claudio? That seems to be what Isabel is saying. That seems to be what the Duke is saying when he proclaims that, "he who the sword of heaven would bear/ should be as holy as severe." Does this mean that we're only obligated to be as moral as the best of our officials? (So it's perfectly fine for me to steal, cheat, lie, and murder, then, because the entire government is doing the same?)
That's why the duke can't enforce the law in the beginning, I suppose, because he just isn't pure enough. But Angelo is tested, too, and found wanting. Strict justice sort of devolves into mercy by default. That's weird. More on it later, perhaps.
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no subject
Date: 2005-12-16 02:11 am (UTC)But Angelo is easier to understand because his humanity finally broke through his austerity.
She might have admired Angelo as he was, but he may have lost all of her respect when he succombed to his passions.
That is exactly why I think the love story is a little tragic and pathetic. Because she is so dogmatic, she can't see that Angelo is at heart a good man. She just thinks him a satyr because he was weak enough to love & desire her. And I think Angelo still loves her after he thought her ruined her. Maybe he always will in some fashion.
I wonder if the Duke ever broke through to her. Take away her beauty and she isn't an easy person to love.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-16 02:59 am (UTC)She and Angelo really are alike. They're both obsessed with the appearance of virtue, without truly understanding it, maybe.
When Isabel breaks the news to Claudio, she speaks of the situation as one that would "Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear,
And leave you naked."
I quake,
Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain,
And six or seven winters more respect
Than a perpetual honour.
And shamed life a hateful [thing]
thine own sister's shame
My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour,
And earlier:
ere I'ld yield
My body up to shame.
Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour.
It's only when she's talking to Angelo, interestingly, enough that she brings in the idea of sin or damnation in connection the loss of her virtue. Otherwise, she's fixated on the appearance that goes along with virtue: on honor, and its opposite, shame.
Isn't this like Angelo?
yea, my gravity,
Wherein--let no man hear me--I take pride,
No longer session hold upon my shame,
I am sorry that such sorrow I procure:
They both like to be noted, like to be honored, for their virtue, and the worst possible thing for both is not the actual fault, but the consequent shame of it.
This, maybe, is where Isabel truly surpasses herself in the play. Because, by the end, she is willing to give up the appearance of virtue when she publicly denounces Angelo.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-16 03:11 pm (UTC)You're right, you found where Isabella changed.
I don't know if the Duke is all that good an influence on her. A few years in his company may make her a very scary woman.
Plus, I can only see heartache for the Duke in the future, if he keeps Angelo and Isabella in each other's company. Angelo has never stopped loving Isabella. They are too alike and I can't help feeling they are bound to find one another eventually. Imagine those two as a duo? We are talking dysfunction junction of the Cathy/Heathcliff scale of craziness. If I were the Duke, I would make Angelo an Ambassador and send him far,far away. Someplace far enough that he can only visit court perhaps once a year.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-16 11:37 pm (UTC)What corruption in this life, that
it will let this man live
O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes!
You bid me seek redemption of the devil:
That Angelo's a murderer; is 't not strange?
That Angelo is an adulterous thief,
An hypocrite, a virgin-violator;
he wicked'st caitiff on the ground,
May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute
As Angelo; even so may Angelo,
In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms,
Be an arch-villain; believe it, royal prince:
If he be less, he's nothing; but he's more,
this pernicious caitiff deputy,--
his concupiscible intemperate lust,
Is she really going to forgive him and more, love him, simply because the duke tells her she must "for Mariana's sake"? It won't happen quickly or easily.
But I think Angelo can only love Isabella as long as she rejects him. For as soon as she accepts his love, she has compromised her virtue (in the play, as a virgin and a novice; now, as a married woman) and he loves her exactly for her virtue. Which will make it all the sadder when she does eventually realize how much more like the deputy she is than the duke. If I were Angelo, I would ask to be made an ambassador and be sent far, far away.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-17 03:46 am (UTC)Yes, Angelo loves the idea that Isabella is incorruptible (snort). Instead of acknowledging the simple feelings he has, he has turned them into this fantasy of...I don't know what. He will go on traveling down that road to disaster. Because if Isabella decides she feels the same, it's going to destroy them both.
The Duke will be the unknown factor. But considering that he tested them both in this play, I can see him continuing the head games. He would throw them together to test their fidelity and loyalty. Let's hope he takes pity on the both of them and does send Angelo away.
And poor, deluded Mariana. She is yoked to man who will never love her. The only reason he touch her was because he thought she was Isabella. Imagine how creepy that is? To be in the arms of man who is calling another woman's name. And the poor fool better hope she got pregnant from that one encounter because I don't believe Angelo will ever touch her again.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-23 05:17 am (UTC)It's funny: everyone makes this assumption that the events of the play have softened them, have made them realize the value of mercy, of understanding, of being less rigid. But I wonder if that's true. To me, it seems just as likely that Angelo will be more strict, not less, as a result of his experiences. Yes, he now knows what it is to be tempted and what's more, to fall. But I can see him being frightened by that side of himself that he's discovered -- I think he is frightened and completely confused by it in the play (I'll spare you the quotes this time: I'm sure you know which soliloquies I mean). And he might retreat even farther into himself, and become more the severe moralist as far as his own life is concerned. Not least because he doesn't have that facade of sanctity any more. The only chance he has for virtue is to have the real thing, now.
Mariana really is a pathetic figure, isn't she? He hates her, has ruined her reputation, publicly repudiated her, more or less said he'd rather die than live with her, and she still thinks that she can make him love her. Even more, she's desperate enough to agree to this plan of the duke's in the first place. What is going on there? She's supposed to be depressed, oppressed, and silently and virtuously suffering, but she's ready to leap into bed with the man who broke off marriage with her. That doesn't quite connect.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-23 04:52 pm (UTC)Isabella
I am now going to resolve him. I had rather my brother die by the law than my son should be unlawfully born.
How very odd that she should bring up pregnancy. It indicates to me that she contemplated the notion. Ultimately she holds to her moral judgements but at one point she thought about sex with Angelo. It's such a throwaway line but it speaks volumes.
They will both end their lives being curmudgeonly prudes. And they had their chance for happiness. It's so rare to find someone who can know you mind, body and soul. The fact that these two can't connect is a tragedy.
Considering Shakespeare's own messy marriage, Mariana is a very sorrowful character. I think scholars feel Shakespeare was forced into a shotgun marriage with Anne Hathaway because she was pregnant. I wonder if Anne was like Mariana? But all the characters have used Mariana and threw her away like a used tissue. Yes, she is married to Angelo but she will be even more lonely now then when she was a pining spinster.
The only really happy couple in the play was Claudio/Juliet.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-23 05:29 pm (UTC)That is an intriguing quote you bring up. It's interesting, too, in that it isn't sex with Angelo per se that really seems to be upsetting Isabel, here, but the consequences, the "what will people think?". We're back to that appearance of virtue vs. actual virtue thing.
But Isabel really does have reason to hate Angelo. Perhaps she can forgive his feelings, but his double-cross must be another whole problem. Although, from a purely legalistic standpoint (which Isabel does seem to espouse, somethimes), since she didn't sleep with Angelo, the bargain could be said to be off, making him not obligated to reprieve Claudio. However, she has given up her virtue -- or her appearance of virtue -- to him, and he doesn't follow through. That "promise-breach" I think might be a more serious bar to a reciprocal relationship.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-24 12:52 am (UTC)Mariana has social protection but has no personal or emotional protection. She is married to a man who has no respect for her. Do I think he will mistreat her? No. But he won't love her and he won't interact with her more than is necessary. Angelo will only extend himself far enough to stop the tongues from wagging at court and no more. But considering the cutthroat courtier antics back then, I suspect many eyes will be watching Isabella and Angelo. Only the Duke, Isabella, Angelo and Mariana know all the facts. Everyone else is free to make up stories. As Shakespeare shows through the character of Lucio.
I've read a little synopsis in my play book that Revenge or Honor murders were quite common in Shakespeare's day. Which is chilling. Angelo had good reason to fear Claudio. Considering the hard headed little minx that Isabella was, maybe she would have expected Claudio to undertake such a mission. As you pointed out before, up until the end she was stating that Claudio deserved his sentence.
In a very wierd way, Isabella has stood on Angelo's side on all the issues in the play except one. When it came to herself she put the foot down.
Do you have an option for extra credit in your classes? You should write an essay on this play. I think you have great ideas and interpretations about it's subject.