loyaulte me lie
Feb. 28th, 2006 08:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ricardienneSo I realized that it's pretty stupid not to have a vaguely Richard III/Yorkist icon, and I wanted to waste more time this afternoon, so here I am.
Per the recommendations on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
shaksper_random, I read Perkin Warbeck this afternoon. I have to say that it was a kind of odd experience because I found myself not really caring about any of the characters. I don't have any real opinion (or knowledge) about Warbeck, except as he fits into some of the wilder Ricardian conspiracy theories (and of course, my own Harry Potter-Ricardian theory which is, at least, unpretendingly fantasy), but, in principle, I'm all for him.
After reading the introduction, which expounded on his nobility of spirit, his stirring language, and so on, as he's depicted by Ford, though, I was expecting to be more impressed than I was. Frankly, he was more than a little full of it. Part of the weirdness, I think, was in that the play makes it clear that he is an imposter, but then does not make him out as either nuts or a fake. It's really as though there are two realities operating simultaneously: Warbeck's reality, where he is Richard of York, his moronic and miniscule entourage peers of the realm, and his enterprise guaranteed. And then there's the reality of everyone else: where Henry VII is very capably and stably ruling England, and where Warback doesn't stand a chance. I suppose the power of Warbeck's reality is his words and his charisma: himself, really. And where he is, his fantasy is enacted. But it all collapses once he isn't personally present.
It really is a idealism versus pragmatism game, here. Warbeck is a romantic (though not, I suppose, conceived in that particular way by John Ford). Everything he does, or incites, is idealised. Trial by combat? Who does King James really think he's kidding? But he's under the spell of chivalry and romance that Warbeck carries. He's brave, resolute, confident, completely persuaded of his nobility: in short, in every way a king, except in practice. He doesn't have a country, he doesn't have supporters, or money, or land. (Incidentally, I was sort of disappointed that we didn't get to see Margaret of Burgundy, after all the talk of that "woman-monster" and her "devilish policies," but I guess that would be following a bit too closely on Shakespeare, to parallel his bitter Lancastrian Margaret in a York-dominated world with a bitter York Margaret in a Tudor one.) And Henry, curse him, does. Ruling England like a boy scout (thrifty, pious, loyal, clean, courteous, and kind, doesn't it run?), he's utterly efficient. (And annoyingly unshy about boasting about it:
Such voluntary favors* as our people
in duty aid us with, we never scatter'd
On cobweb parasites, or lavish'd out
In riot or a needless hospitality.
No undeserving favorite doth boast
his issues from our treasury.
*These voluntary favors being things like Morton's Fork, I guess.
In other words: "I am soo much better at kinging it than any of my predecessors." But, it's practical, and it works, and he wins.;( Although, frankly, one can't really imagine Warbeck winning and becoming king. It's impossible, or rather, it sounds like a nice idea (maybe), but not really.
As should be clear, however, play aside, I just don't like Henry Tudor. Now I don't consider myself a really fanatical Ricardian; I don't think Richard III was a saint, I'm up and down on whether or not he killed his nephews (and it does seem worse to have two young boys murdered than to simply have your deposed predecessor bumped off à la Henry- and Edward IV), and, well, I can't rule out that he may have been chasing his niece (although I don't personally believe this -- usually). I tend to become more rabid about it around August 23, and I generally do belong to the more pro-Richard side of things, though. And so, in spite of Henry's good sense, fiscal responsibility, efficiency, justice, etc etc, I really want to smack him. Or mess with his face.
And, it is hard (for me) not to be sucked in by the grandeur of Warbeck's delusions. I am (as has been made rather clear) a romantic, and there is something wonderful and noble in defining yourself and persisting in that definition. In not letting reality get you down, and being able to scorn the person who's content to "live plenteously,/ Eat from the king's purse, and enjoy the sweetness Of liberty and favor, sleep securely" (Would it be appropriate to cf. here all of the Shakespeare references to "What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace/ Whose hours the peasant best advantages. and such? There was actually rather a lot of hypothetical cf-ing that came to mind as I read.) and say that such "coarse creatures are incapable of excellence" (yeah, I'm a sucker for alliteration…). And so he gets his "martyrdom of majesty," and Henry gets to stay on the throne.Yay
Per the recommendations on
shaksper_random, I read Perkin Warbeck this afternoon. I have to say that it was a kind of odd experience because I found myself not really caring about any of the characters. I don't have any real opinion (or knowledge) about Warbeck, except as he fits into some of the wilder Ricardian conspiracy theories (and of course, my own Harry Potter-Ricardian theory which is, at least, unpretendingly fantasy), but, in principle, I'm all for him. After reading the introduction, which expounded on his nobility of spirit, his stirring language, and so on, as he's depicted by Ford, though, I was expecting to be more impressed than I was. Frankly, he was more than a little full of it. Part of the weirdness, I think, was in that the play makes it clear that he is an imposter, but then does not make him out as either nuts or a fake. It's really as though there are two realities operating simultaneously: Warbeck's reality, where he is Richard of York, his moronic and miniscule entourage peers of the realm, and his enterprise guaranteed. And then there's the reality of everyone else: where Henry VII is very capably and stably ruling England, and where Warback doesn't stand a chance. I suppose the power of Warbeck's reality is his words and his charisma: himself, really. And where he is, his fantasy is enacted. But it all collapses once he isn't personally present.
It really is a idealism versus pragmatism game, here. Warbeck is a romantic (though not, I suppose, conceived in that particular way by John Ford). Everything he does, or incites, is idealised. Trial by combat? Who does King James really think he's kidding? But he's under the spell of chivalry and romance that Warbeck carries. He's brave, resolute, confident, completely persuaded of his nobility: in short, in every way a king, except in practice. He doesn't have a country, he doesn't have supporters, or money, or land. (Incidentally, I was sort of disappointed that we didn't get to see Margaret of Burgundy, after all the talk of that "woman-monster" and her "devilish policies," but I guess that would be following a bit too closely on Shakespeare, to parallel his bitter Lancastrian Margaret in a York-dominated world with a bitter York Margaret in a Tudor one.) And Henry, curse him, does. Ruling England like a boy scout (thrifty, pious, loyal, clean, courteous, and kind, doesn't it run?), he's utterly efficient. (And annoyingly unshy about boasting about it:
Such voluntary favors* as our people
in duty aid us with, we never scatter'd
On cobweb parasites, or lavish'd out
In riot or a needless hospitality.
No undeserving favorite doth boast
his issues from our treasury.
*These voluntary favors being things like Morton's Fork, I guess.
In other words: "I am soo much better at kinging it than any of my predecessors." But, it's practical, and it works, and he wins.;( Although, frankly, one can't really imagine Warbeck winning and becoming king. It's impossible, or rather, it sounds like a nice idea (maybe), but not really.
As should be clear, however, play aside, I just don't like Henry Tudor. Now I don't consider myself a really fanatical Ricardian; I don't think Richard III was a saint, I'm up and down on whether or not he killed his nephews (and it does seem worse to have two young boys murdered than to simply have your deposed predecessor bumped off à la Henry- and Edward IV), and, well, I can't rule out that he may have been chasing his niece (although I don't personally believe this -- usually). I tend to become more rabid about it around August 23, and I generally do belong to the more pro-Richard side of things, though. And so, in spite of Henry's good sense, fiscal responsibility, efficiency, justice, etc etc, I really want to smack him. Or mess with his face.
And, it is hard (for me) not to be sucked in by the grandeur of Warbeck's delusions. I am (as has been made rather clear) a romantic, and there is something wonderful and noble in defining yourself and persisting in that definition. In not letting reality get you down, and being able to scorn the person who's content to "live plenteously,/ Eat from the king's purse, and enjoy the sweetness Of liberty and favor, sleep securely" (Would it be appropriate to cf. here all of the Shakespeare references to "What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace/ Whose hours the peasant best advantages. and such? There was actually rather a lot of hypothetical cf-ing that came to mind as I read.) and say that such "coarse creatures are incapable of excellence" (yeah, I'm a sucker for alliteration…). And so he gets his "martyrdom of majesty," and Henry gets to stay on the throne.
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Date: 2006-03-01 01:51 am (UTC)Hee! I've always liked Perkin but then I am highly susceptible to that type (see also: Richard II. Which Ford was clearly influenced by, although of course in the case of Perkin Warbeck it's the "legitimate" ruler who's really with it but kind of not very interesing, and the pretender who's Wrong but Wromantic)...
Part of the weirdness, I think, was in that the play makes it clear that he is an imposter, but then does not make him out as either nuts or a fake.
Interesting distinction. Perkin seems to me like sort of a Don Quixote figure, almost -- he believes so wholeheartedly in the illusion that it lends it and him a kind of nobility. And of course the play brings in the material from the historical Perkin Warbeck's confession in a sort of dodgy context, since it appears in the scene where Lambert Simnel of all people comes to visit him in the stocks (a marvelous scene, btw; it's my favorite part of the play), and basically just says "okay, give it up, they know who you are." And Perkin will have none of it, and indeed I don't think the play contradicts his non-confession really -- the effect, really, is to question the whole notion of legitimacy. This also happens when you get, for instance, that parallel made between Warbeck and Henry VII, who arrived in England in basically similar state: what's the difference really? Or is it just sheer competence that makes a king?
Now that I think of it, too, your comment about presence making all the difference totally makes me think of Foucault's theories about how power works in the early modern period -- i.e. it's dependent on the physical body of the sovereign, and then in the eighteenth century there's a shift. I'm arguing in the diss that there isn't as much of a genuine transition as Foucault claims -- and one of the things I'm trying to say about royal power is that it can and does operate invisibly. And I think you get this in Perkin Warbeck, too -- Henry VII operates in a system that isn't all about him as an individual, and that's far more effective.
Also, is it just me or did you also think of Blackadder when Perkin's followers hailed him as Richard the Fourth?
Incidentally, Francis Bacon's History of Henry VII, which I think was Ford's major source, treats this material in a really fascinating way. Bacon is really into theatrical imagery -- his Perkin Warbeck is basically a consummate actor who gets so into his role that ultimately he appears to have forgotten who he is really; it's a portrayal that depicts a lot of the worst fears of the antitheatricalists, actually. Of course in the play you don't have the mediating narratorial voice telling us this outright...
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Date: 2006-03-01 02:46 am (UTC)see also: Richard II. Which Ford was clearly influenced by, although of course in the case of Perkin Warbeck it's the "legitimate" ruler who's really with it but kind of not very interesing, and the pretender who's Wrong but Wromantic
That struck me, too! It's a sort of counterpoint to Richard II. Perhaps it's something in the names. People named Henry are dull but competent, whereas the Richards, and the wannabe Richards, are interesting but not so great when if comes actually doing stuff well. Henry V would be an exception to the rule of dullness and Henry VI to the rule of competence, though.
Or is it just sheer competence that makes a king?
I'm tempted to say that it is competence. Perkin invokes Divine Right and Plantagenet Right and all that fairly frequently, but Henry doesn't, really. He invokes what he's done -- bring peace, be a good manager, make alliances. Don Quixote is a perfect analogy for Perkin: he's old-fashioned (an anachronism from a past that never actually existed, maybe); he still thinks of it as being about being a king because, well, you're valiant and noble-spirited and you seem to be like a king.
Also, is it just me or did you also think of Blackadder when Perkin's followers hailed him as Richard the Fourth?
I have to admit that I haven't seen Blackadder, but I did think it was pretty funny, or rather, funny because it was so jarring. I don't even know how to conceive of four Richards. It would be like have a Henry IX or something. It just looks wrong.