1. Christopher Marlowe: Doctor
Faustus > 01
2. William Shakespeare: A
Midsummer Night’s Dream > 04
3. William Shakespeare: Hamlet
> 06
4. Ben Jonson: The
Alchemist > 10
5. J.M. Synge: The
Playboy of the Western World > 11
6. Bernard Shaw: Pygmalion
> 14
7. T.S. Eliot: Murder in
the Cathedral > 16
8. John Osborne: Look
Back in Anger > 18
9. Samuel Beckett: Waiting
for Godot > 19
DOCTOR FAUSTUS : Christopher Marlowe
Plot Overview
Doctor Faustus, a well-respected German scholar, grows dissatisfied
with the limits of traditional forms of knowledge—logic, medicine, law, and
religion—and decides that he wants to learn to practice magic. His friends
Valdes and Cornelius instruct him in the black arts, and he begins his new
career as a magician by summoning up Mephastophilis, a devil. Despite
Mephastophilis’s warnings about the horrors of hell, Faustus tells the devil to
return to his master, Lucifer, with an offer of Faustus’s soul in exchange for
twenty-four years of service from Mephastophilis. Meanwhile, Wagner, Faustus’s
servant, has picked up some magical ability and uses it to press a clown named
Robin into his service.
Mephastophilis returns to Faustus with word that Lucifer has
accepted Faustus’s offer. Faustus experiences some misgivings and wonders if he
should repent and save his soul; in the end, though, he agrees to the deal,
signing it with his blood. As soon as he does so, the words “Homo fuge,” Latin
for “O man, fly,” appear branded on his arm. Faustus again has second thoughts,
but Mephastophilis bestows rich gifts on him and gives him a book of spells to
learn. Later, Mephastophilis answers all of his questions about the nature of
the world, refusing to answer only when Faustus asks him who made the universe.
This refusal prompts yet another bout of misgivings in Faustus, but
Mephastophilis and Lucifer bring in personifications of the Seven Deadly Sins
to prance about in front of Faustus, and he is impressed enough to quiet his
doubts.
Armed with his new powers and attended by Mephastophilis,
Faustus begins to travel. He goes to the pope’s court in Rome, makes himself
invisible, and plays a series of tricks. He disrupts the pope’s banquet by
stealing food and boxing the pope’s ears. Following this incident, he travels
through the courts of Europe, with his fame spreading as he goes. Eventually,
he is invited to the court of the German emperor, Charles V (the enemy of the
pope), who asks Faustus to allow him to see Alexander the Great, the famed
fourth-century B.C. Macedonian king and conqueror. Faustus conjures up an image
of Alexander, and Charles is suitably impressed. A knight scoffs at Faustus’s
powers, and Faustus chastises him by making antlers sprout from his head.
Furious, the knight vows revenge.
Meanwhile, Robin, Wagner’s clown, has picked up some magic on
his own, and with his fellow stablehand, Rafe, he undergoes a number of comic
misadventures. At one point, he manages to summon Mephastophilis, who threatens
to turn Robin and Rafe into animals (or perhaps even does transform them; the
text isn’t clear) to punish them for their foolishness.
Faustus then goes on with his travels, playing a trick on a
horse-courser along the way. Faustus sells him a horse that turns into a heap
of straw when ridden into a river. Eventually, Faustus is invited to the court
of the Duke of Vanholt, where he performs various feats. The horse-courser
shows up there, along with Robin, a man named Dick (Rafe in the A text), and
various others who have fallen victim to Faustus’s trickery. But Faustus casts
spells on them and sends them on their way, to the amusement of the duke and
duchess.
As the twenty-four years of his deal with Lucifer come to a
close, Faustus begins to dread his impending death. He has Mephastophilis call
up Helen of Troy, the famous beauty from the ancient world, and uses her
presence to impress a group of scholars. An old man urges Faustus to repent,
but Faustus drives him away. Faustus summons Helen again and exclaims
rapturously about her beauty. But time is growing short. Faustus tells the
scholars about his pact, and they are horror-stricken and resolve to pray for
him. On the final night before the expiration of the twenty-four years, Faustus
is overcome by fear and remorse. He begs for mercy, but it is too late. At
midnight, a host of devils appears and carries his soul off to hell. In the
morning, the scholars find Faustus’s limbs and decide to hold a funeral for
him.
Important Quotations Explained
1.
The
reward of sin is death? That’s hard.
Si
peccasse negamus, fallimur, et nulla est in nobis veritas.
If
we say that we have no sin,
We
deceive ourselves, and there’s no truth in us.
Why
then belike we must sin,
And
so consequently die.
Ay,
we must die an everlasting death.
What
doctrine call you this? Che sarà, sarà:
What
will be, shall be! Divinity, adieu!
These
metaphysics of magicians,
And
necromantic books are heavenly!
(1.40–50)
Faustus speaks these lines near the
end of his opening soliloquy. In this speech, he considers various fields of
study one by one, beginning with logic and proceeding through medicine and law.
Seeking the highest form of knowledge, he arrives at theology and opens the
Bible to the New Testament, where he quotes from Romans and the first book of
John. He reads that “[t]he reward of sin is death,” and that “[i]f we say we
that we have no sin, / We deceive ourselves, and there’s no truth in us.” The
logic of these quotations—everyone sins, and sin leads to death—makes it seem
as though Christianity can promise only death, which leads Faustus to give in
to the fatalistic “What will be, shall be! Divinity, adieu!” However, Faustus neglects
to read the very next line in John, which states, “If we confess our sins,
[God] is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all
unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). By ignoring this passage, Faustus ignores the
possibility of redemption, just as he ignores it throughout the play. Faustus
has blind spots; he sees what he wants to see rather than what is really there.
This blindness is apparent in the very next line of his speech: having turned
his back on heaven, he pretends that “[t]hese metaphysics of magicians, / And
necromantic books are heavenly.” He thus inverts the cosmos, making black magic
“heavenly” and religion the source of “everlasting death.”
2.
MEPHASTOPHILIS:
Why this is hell, nor am I out of it.
Think’st
thou that I, who saw the face of God,
And
tasted the eternal joys of heaven,
Am
not tormented with ten thousand hells
In
being deprived of everlasting bliss?
O
Faustus, leave these frivolous demands,
Which
strike a terror to my fainting soul.
FAUSTUS:
What, is great Mephastophilis so passionate
For
being deprivèd of the joys of heaven?
Learn
thou of Faustus manly fortitude,
And
scorn those joys thou never shalt possess.
(3.76–86)
This exchange shows Faustus at his
most willfully blind, as he listens to Mephastophilis describe how awful hell
is for him even as a devil, and as he then proceeds to dismiss Mephastophilis’s
words blithely, urging him to have “manly fortitude.” But the dialogue also
shows Mephastophilis in a peculiar light. We know that he is committed to
Faustus’s damnation—he has appeared to Faustus because of his hope that Faustus
will renounce God and swear allegiance to Lucifer. Yet here Mephastophilis
seems to be urging Faustus against selling his soul, telling him to “leave
these frivolous demands, / Which strike a terror to my fainting soul.” There is
a parallel between the experience of Mephastophilis and that of Faustus. Just
as Faustus now is, Mephastophilis was once prideful and rebelled against God;
like Faustus, he is damned forever for his sin. Perhaps because of this
connection, Mephastophilis cannot accept Faustus’s cheerful dismissal of hell
in the name of “manly fortitude.” He knows all too well the terrible reality,
and this knowledge drives him, in spite of himself, to warn Faustus away from
his t-errible course.
3.MEPHASTOPHILIS.: Hell hath no limits,
nor is circumscribed
In
one self-place; for where we are is hell,
And
where hell is, there must we ever be.
. .
.
All
places shall be hell that is not heaven.
FAUSTUS:
Come, I think hell’s a fable.
MEPHASTOPHILISS.:
Ay, think so still, till experience change thy mind.
. .
.
FAUSTUS:
Think’st thou that Faustus is so fond to imagine
That
after this life there is any pain?
Tush,
these are trifles and mere old wives’ tales.
(5.120–135)
This exchange again shows
Mephastophilis warning Faustus about the horrors of hell. This time, though,
their exchange is less significant for what Mephastophilis says about hell than
for Faustus’s response to him. Why anyone would make a pact with the devil is
one of the most vexing questions surrounding Doctor Faustus, and here we see
part of Marlowe’s explanation. We are constantly given indications that Faustus
doesn’t really understand what he is doing. He is a secular Renaissance man, so
disdainful of traditional religion that he believes hell to be a “fable” even
when he is conversing with a devil. Of course, such a belief is difficult to
maintain when one is trafficking in the supernatural, but Faustus has a
fallback position. Faustus takes Mephastophilis’s assertion that hell will be
“[a]ll places … that is not heaven” to mean that hell will just be a
continuation of life on earth. He fails to understand the difference between
him and Mephastophilis: unlike Mephastophilis, who has lost heaven permanently,
Faustus, despite his pact with Lucifer, is not yet damned and still has the
possibility of repentance. He cannot yet understand the torture against which
Mephastophilis warns him, and imagines, fatally, that he already knows the
worst of what hell will be.
4.
Was this the face
that launched a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless
towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me
immortal with a kiss:
Her lips sucks forth
my soul, see where it flies!
Come Helen, come,
give me my soul again.
Here will I dwell,
for heaven be in these lips,
And all is dross that
is not Helena!
(12.81–87)
These lines come from a speech that Faustus makes as he nears
the end of his life and begins to realize the terrible nature of the bargain he
has made. Despite his sense of foreboding, Faustus enjoys his powers, as the
delight he takes in conjuring up Helen makes clear. While the speech marks a
return to the eloquence that he shows early in the play, Faustus continues to
display the same blind spots and wishful thinking that characterize his
behavior throughout the drama. At the beginning of the play, he dismisses
religious transcendence in favor of magic; now, after squandering his powers in
petty, self-indulgent behavior, he looks for transcendence in a woman, one who
may be an illusion and not even real flesh and blood. He seeks heavenly grace
in Helen’s lips, which can, at best, offer only earthly pleasure. “[M]ake me
immortal with a kiss,” he cries, even as he continues to keep his back turned
to his only hope for escaping damnation—namely, repentance.
5
Ah Faustus,
Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,
And then thou must be damned perpetually.
. . .
The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,
The devil will come, and Faustus must be damned.
O I’ll leap up to my God! Who pulls me down?
See, see where Christ’s blood streams in the firmament!
One drop would save my soul, half a drop: ah my Christ—
Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ;
Yet will I call on him—O spare me, Lucifer!
. . .
Earth, gape! O no, it will not harbor me.
You stars that reigned at my nativity,
Whose influence hath allotted death and hell,
Now draw up Faustus like a foggy mist
Into the entrails of yon laboring cloud,
That when you vomit forth into the air
My limbs may issue from your smoky mouths,
So that my soul may but ascend to heaven.
. . .
O God, if thou wilt not have mercy on my soul,
. . .
Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years,
A hundred thousand, and at last be saved.
. . .
Cursed be the parents that engendered me:
No, Faustus, curse thy self, curse Lucifer,
That hath deprived thee of the joys of heaven.
. . .
My God, my God, look not so fierce on me!
. . .
Ugly hell gape not! Come not, Lucifer!
I’ll burn my books—ah, Mephastophilis!
(13.57–113)
These lines come from Faustus’s final speech, just before the
devils take him down to hell. It is easily the most dramatic moment in the
play, and Marlowe uses some of his finest rhetoric to create an unforgettable
portrait of the mind of a man about to carried off to a horrific doom. Faustus
goes from one idea to another, desperately seeking a way out. But no escape is
available, and he ends by reaching an understanding of his own guilt: “No,
Faustus, curse thy self, curse Lucifer, / That hath deprived thee of the joys
of heaven.” This final speech raises the question of why Faustus does not
repent earlier and, more importantly, why his desperate cries to Christ for mercy
are not heard. In a truly Christian framework, Faustus would be allowed a
chance at redemption even at the very end. But Marlowe’s play ultimately proves
more tragic than Christian, and so there comes a point beyond which Faustus can
no longer be saved. He is damned, in other words, while he is still alive.
Faustus’s last line aptly expresses the play’s representation
of a clash between Renaissance and medieval values. “I’ll burn my books,”
Faustus cries as the devils come for him, suggesting, for the first time since
scene 2, when his slide into mediocrity begins, that his pact with Lucifer is
about gaining limitless knowledge, an ambition that the Renaissance spirit
celebrated but that medieval Christianity denounced as an expression of sinful
human pride. As he is carried off to hell, Faustus seems to give in to the
Christian worldview, denouncing, in a desperate attempt to save himself, the
quest for knowledge that has defined most of his life.
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM : William Shakespeare
Plot Overview
Theseus, duke of Athens, is preparing for his marriage to
Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, with a four-day festival of pomp and
entertainment. He commissions his Master of the Revels, Philostrate, to find
suitable amusements for the occasion. Egeus, an Athenian nobleman, marches into
Theseus’s court with his daughter, Hermia, and two young men, Demetrius and
Lysander. Egeus wishes Hermia to marry Demetrius (who loves Hermia), but Hermia
is in love with Lysander and refuses to comply. Egeus asks for the full penalty
of law to fall on Hermia’s head if she flouts her father’s will. Theseus gives
Hermia until his wedding to consider her options, warning her that disobeying
her father’s wishes could result in her being sent to a convent or even
executed. Nonetheless, Hermia and Lysander plan to escape Athens the following
night and marry in the house of Lysander’s aunt, some seven leagues distant
from the city. They make their intentions known to Hermia’s friend Helena, who
was once engaged to Demetrius and still loves him even though he jilted her
after meeting Hermia. Hoping to regain his love, Helena tells Demetrius of the
elopement that Hermia and Lysander have planned. At the appointed time,
Demetrius stalks into the woods after his intended bride and her lover; Helena
follows behind him.
In these same woods are two very different groups of
characters. The first is a band of fairies, including Oberon, the fairy king,
and Titania, his queen, who has recently returned from India to bless the
marriage of Theseus and Hippolyta. The second is a band of Athenian craftsmen
rehearsing a play that they hope to perform for the duke and his bride. Oberon
and Titania are at odds over a young Indian prince given to Titania by the prince’s
mother; the boy is so beautiful that Oberon wishes to make him a knight, but
Titania refuses. Seeking revenge, Oberon sends his merry servant, Puck, to
acquire a magical flower, the juice of which can be spread over a sleeping
person’s eyelids to make that person fall in love with the first thing he or
she sees upon waking. Puck obtains the flower, and Oberon tells him of his plan
to spread its juice on the sleeping Titania’s eyelids. Having seen Demetrius
act cruelly toward Helena, he orders Puck to spread some of the juice on the
eyelids of the young Athenian man. Puck encounters Lysander and Hermia;
thinking that Lysander is the Athenian of whom Oberon spoke, Puck afflicts him
with the love potion. Lysander happens to see Helena upon awaking and falls deeply
in love with her, abandoning Hermia. As the night progresses and Puck attempts
to undo his mistake, both Lysander and Demetrius end up in love with Helena,
who believes that they are mocking her. Hermia becomes so jealous that she
tries to challenge Helena to a fight. Demetrius and Lysander nearly do fight
over Helena’s love, but Puck confuses them by mimicking their voices, leading
them apart until they are lost separately in the forest.
When Titania wakes, the first creature she sees is Bottom,
the most ridiculous of the Athenian craftsmen, whose head Puck has mockingly
transformed into that of an ass. Titania passes a ludicrous interlude doting on
the ass-headed weaver. Eventually, Oberon obtains the Indian boy, Puck spreads
the love potion on Lysander’s eyelids, and by morning all is well. Theseus and
Hippolyta discover the sleeping lovers in the forest and take them back to
Athens to be married—Demetrius now loves Helena, and Lysander now loves Hermia.
After the group wedding, the lovers watch Bottom and his fellow craftsmen
perform their play, a fumbling, hilarious version of the story of Pyramus and
Thisbe. When the play is completed, the lovers go to bed; the fairies briefly
emerge to bless the sleeping couples with a protective charm and then disappear.
Only Puck remains, to ask the audience for its forgiveness and approval and to
urge it to remember the play as though it had all been a dream.
Important Quotations Explained
1. Ay me, for aught that I could ever read,
Could
ever hear by tale or history,
The
course of true love never did run smooth. . . .
Lysander speaks these lines to soothe Hermia when she
despairs about the difficulties facing their love, specifically, that Egeus,
her father, has forbidden them to marry and that Theseus has threatened her
with death if she disobeys her father (I.i.132–134). Lysander tells Hermia that
as long as there has been true love, there have been seemingly insurmountable
difficulties to challenge it. He goes on to list a number of these
difficulties, many of which later appear in the play: differences in birth or
age (“misgrafted in respect of years”) and difficulties caused by friends or
“war, death, or sickness,” which make love seem “swift as a shadow, short as
any dream” (I.i.137, I.i.142–144). But, as Hermia comments, lovers must
persevere, treating their difficulties as a price that must be paid for
romantic bliss. As such, the above lines inaugurate the play’s exploration of
the theme of love’s difficulties and presage what lies ahead for Lysander and
Hermia: they will face great difficulties but will persevere and ultimately
arrive at a happy ending.
2.
Through
Athens I am thought as fair as she.
But
what of that? Demetrius thinks not so.
He
will not know what all but he do know.
And
as he errs, doting on Hermia’s eyes,
So
I, admiring of his qualities.
Things
base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love
can transpose to form and dignity.
Love
looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And
therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Helena utters these lines as she comments on the irrational
nature of love. They are extremely important to the play’s overall presentation
of love as erratic, inexplicable, and exceptionally powerful (I.i.227–235).
Distressed by the fact that her beloved Demetrius loves Hermia and not her,
Helena says that though she is as beautiful as Hermia, Demetrius cannot see her
beauty. Helena adds that she dotes on Demetrius (though not all of his
qualities are admirable) in the same way that he dotes on Hermia. She believes
that love has the power to transform “base and vile” qualities into “form and
dignity”—that is, even ugliness and bad behavior can seem attractive to someone
in love. This is the case, she argues, because “love looks not with the eyes,
but with the mind”—love depends not on an objective assessment of appearance
but rather on an individual perception of the beloved. These lines prefigure
aspects of the play’s examination of love, such as Titania’s passion for the
ass-headed Bottom, which epitomizes the transformation of the “base and vile”
into “form and dignity.”
3. Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Puck makes this declaration in his amazement at the ludicrous
behavior of the young Athenians (III.ii.115). This line is one of the most
famous in A Midsummer Night’s Dream for its pithy humor, but it is also
thematically important: first, because it captures the exaggerated silliness of
the lovers’ behavior; second, because it marks the contrast between the human
lovers, completely absorbed in their emotions, and the magical fairies, impish
and never too serious.
4. I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream past the
wit of man to say what dream it was. Man is but an ass if he go about t’expound
this dream. Methought I was—there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and
methought I had—but man is but a patched fool if he will offer to say what
methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen,
man’s hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report
what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream. It
shall be called ‘Bottom’s Dream’, because it hath no bottom.
Bottom makes this bombastic speech after he wakes up from his
adventure with Titania; his human head restored, he believes that his
experience as an ass-headed monster beloved by the beautiful fairy queen was
merely a bizarre dream (IV.i.199–209). He remarks dramatically that his dream
is beyond human comprehension; then, contradicting himself, he says that he will
ask Quince to write a ballad about this dream. These lines are important
partially because they offer humorous commentary on the theme of dreams
throughout the play but also because they crystallize much of what is so
lovable and amusing about Bottom. His overabundant self-confidence burbles out
in his grandiose idea that although no one could possibly understand his dream,
it is worthy of being immortalized in a poem. His tendency to make melodramatic
rhetorical mistakes manifests itself plentifully, particularly in his comically
mixed-up association of body parts and senses: he suggests that eyes can hear,
ears see, hands taste, tongues think, and hearts speak.
5.
If
we shadows have offended,
Think
but this, and all is mended:
That
you have but slumbered here,
While
these visions did appear;
And
this weak and idle theme,
No
more yielding but a dream,
Gentles,
do not reprehend.
If
you pardon, we will mend.
Puck speaks these lines in an address to the audience near
the end of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, extending the theme of dreams beyond the
world of the play and putting the reality of the audience’s experience into
question (V.epilogue.1–8). As many of the characters (Bottom and Theseus among
them) believe that the magical events of the play’s action were merely a dream,
Puck tells the crowd that if the play has offended them, they too should
remember it simply as a dream—“That you have but slumbered here, / While these
visions did appear.” The speech offers a commentary on the dreamlike atmosphere
of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and casts the play as a magical dream in which the
audience shares.
HAMLET : William Shakespeare
Plot Overview
On a dark winter night, a ghost walks the ramparts of
Elsinore Castle in Denmark. Discovered first by a pair of watchmen, then by the
scholar Horatio, the ghost resembles the recently deceased King Hamlet, whose
brother Claudius has inherited the throne and married the king’s widow, Queen
Gertrude. When Horatio and the watchmen bring Prince Hamlet, the son of
Gertrude and the dead king, to see the ghost, it speaks to him, declaring
ominously that it is indeed his father’s spirit, and that he was murdered by
none other than Claudius. Ordering Hamlet to seek revenge on the man who
usurped his throne and married his wife, the ghost disappears with the dawn.
Prince Hamlet devotes himself to avenging his father’s death,
but, because he is contemplative and thoughtful by nature, he delays, entering
into a deep melancholy and even apparent madness. Claudius and Gertrude worry
about the prince’s erratic behavior and attempt to discover its cause. They
employ a pair of Hamlet’s friends, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, to watch him.
When Polonius, the pompous Lord Chamberlain, suggests that Hamlet may be mad
with love for his daughter, Ophelia, Claudius agrees to spy on Hamlet in
conversation with the girl. But though Hamlet certainly seems mad, he does not
seem to love Ophelia: he orders her to enter a nunnery and declares that he
wishes to ban marriages.
A group of traveling actors comes to Elsinore, and Hamlet
seizes upon an idea to test his uncle’s guilt. He will have the players perform
a scene closely resembling the sequence by which Hamlet imagines his uncle to
have murdered his father, so that if Claudius is guilty, he will surely react.
When the moment of the murder arrives in the theater, Claudius leaps up and
leaves the room. Hamlet and Horatio agree that this proves his guilt. Hamlet
goes to kill Claudius but finds him praying. Since he believes that killing
Claudius while in prayer would send Claudius’s soul to heaven, Hamlet considers
that it would be an inadequate revenge and decides to wait. Claudius, now frightened
of Hamlet’s madness and fearing for his own safety, orders that Hamlet be sent
to England at once.
Hamlet goes to confront his mother, in whose bedchamber
Polonius has hidden behind a tapestry. Hearing a noise from behind the
tapestry, Hamlet believes the king is hiding there. He draws his sword and
stabs through the fabric, killing Polonius. For this crime, he is immediately
dispatched to England with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. However, Claudius’s
plan for Hamlet includes more than banishment, as he has given Rosencrantz and
Guildenstern sealed orders for the King of England demanding that Hamlet be put
to death.
In the aftermath of her father’s death, Ophelia goes mad with
grief and drowns in the river. Polonius’s son, Laertes, who has been staying in
France, returns to Denmark in a rage. Claudius convinces him that Hamlet is to
blame for his father’s and sister’s deaths. When Horatio and the king receive
letters from Hamlet indicating that the prince has returned to Denmark after
pirates attacked his ship en route to England, Claudius concocts a plan to use
Laertes’ desire for revenge to secure Hamlet’s death. Laertes will fence with
Hamlet in innocent sport, but Claudius will poison Laertes’ blade so that if he
draws blood, Hamlet will die. As a backup plan, the king decides to poison a
goblet, which he will give Hamlet to drink should Hamlet score the first or
second hits of the match. Hamlet returns to the vicinity of Elsinore just as
Ophelia’s funeral is taking place. Stricken with grief, he attacks Laertes and
declares that he had in fact always loved Ophelia. Back at the castle, he tells
Horatio that he believes one must be prepared to die, since death can come at
any moment. A foolish courtier named Osric arrives on Claudius’s orders to arrange
the fencing match between Hamlet and Laertes.
The sword-fighting begins. Hamlet scores the first hit, but
declines to drink from the king’s proffered goblet. Instead, Gertrude takes a
drink from it and is swiftly killed by the poison. Laertes succeeds in wounding
Hamlet, though Hamlet does not die of the poison immediately. First, Laertes is
cut by his own sword’s blade, and, after revealing to Hamlet that Claudius is
responsible for the queen’s death, he dies from the blade’s poison. Hamlet then
stabs Claudius through with the poisoned sword and forces him to drink down the
rest of the poisoned wine. Claudius dies, and Hamlet dies immediately after
achieving his revenge.
At this moment, a Norwegian prince named Fortinbras, who has
led an army to Denmark and attacked Poland earlier in the play, enters with
ambassadors from England, who report that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are
dead. Fortinbras is stunned by the gruesome sight of the entire royal family
lying sprawled on the floor dead. He moves to take power of the kingdom.
Horatio, fulfilling Hamlet’s last request, tells him Hamlet’s tragic story.
Fortinbras orders that Hamlet be carried away in a manner befitting a fallen
soldier.
Important Quotations Explained
1.
O that this too too
solid flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve
itself into a dew!
Or that the
Everlasting had not fix’d
His canon ’gainst
self-slaughter! O God! O God!
How weary, stale,
flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the
uses of this world!
Fie on’t! O fie! ’tis
an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed;
things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely.
That it should come to this!
But two months
dead!—nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a king;
that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr;
so loving to my mother,
That he might not
beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too
roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? Why,
she would hang on him
As if increase of
appetite had grown
By what it fed on:
and yet, within a month,—
Let me not think
on’t,—Frailty, thy name is woman!—
A little month; or
ere those shoes were old
With which she
followed my poor father’s body
Like Niobe, all
tears;—why she, even she,—
O God! a beast that
wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn’d
longer,—married with mine uncle,
My father’s brother;
but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules:
within a month;
Ere yet the salt of
most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing
in her galled eyes,
She married:— O, most
wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity
to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it
cannot come to good;
But break my
heart,—for I must hold my tongue.
This quotation, Hamlet’s first
important soliloquy, occurs in Act I, scene ii (129–158). Hamlet speaks these
lines after enduring the unpleasant scene at Claudius and Gertrude’s court,
then being asked by his mother and stepfather not to return to his studies at
Wittenberg but to remain in Denmark, presumably against his wishes. Here,
Hamlet thinks for the first time about suicide (desiring his flesh to “melt,”
and wishing that God had not made “self-slaughter” a sin), saying that the
world is “weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable.” In other words, suicide seems
like a desirable alternative to life in a painful world, but Hamlet feels that
the option of suicide is closed to him because it is forbidden by religion.
Hamlet then goes on to describe the causes of his pain, specifically his
intense disgust at his mother’s marriage to Claudius. He describes the haste of
their marriage, noting that the shoes his mother wore to his father’s funeral
were not worn out before her marriage to Claudius. He compares Claudius to his
father (his father was “so excellent a king” while Claudius is a bestial
“satyr”). As he runs through his description of their marriage, he touches upon
the important motifs of misogyny, crying, “Frailty, thy name is woman”; incest,
commenting that his mother moved “[w]ith such dexterity to incestuous sheets”;
and the ominous omen the marriage represents for Denmark, that “[i]t is not nor
it cannot come to good.” Each of these motifs recurs throughout the play.
2.
Give thy thoughts no
tongue,
Nor any
unproportion’d thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but
by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou
hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them unto thy
soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy
palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d,
unfledg’d comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a
quarrel; but, being in,
Bear’t that the opposed
may beware of thee.
Give every man thine
ear, but few thy voice:
Take each man’s
censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as
thy purse can buy,
But not express’d in
fancy; rich, not gaudy:
For the apparel oft
proclaims the man;
And they in France of
the best rank and station
Are most select and
generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower
nor a lender be:
For loan oft loses
both itself and friend;
And borrowing dulls
the edge of husbandry.
This above all,—to
thine own self be true;
And it must follow,
as the night the day,
Thou canst not then
be false to any man.
This famous bit of fatherly advice is spoken by Polonius to
Laertes shortly before Laertes leaves for France, in Act I, scene iii (59–80).
Polonius, who is bidding Laertes farewell, gives him this list of instructions
about how to behave before he sends him on his way. His advice amounts to a
list of clichés. Keep your thoughts to yourself; do not act rashly; treat
people with familiarity but not excessively so; hold on to old friends and be
slow to trust new friends; avoid fighting but fight boldly if it is
unavoidable; be a good listener; accept criticism but do not be judgmental;
maintain a proper appearance; do not borrow or lend money; and be true to
yourself. This long list of quite normal fatherly advice emphasizes the
regularity of Laertes’ family life compared to Hamlet’s, as well as
contributing a somewhat stereotypical father-son encounter in the play’s
exploration of family relationships. It seems to indicate that Polonius loves
his son, though that idea is complicated later in the play when he sends
Reynaldo to spy on him.
3. Something is rotten
in the state of Denmark.
This line is spoken by Marcellus in
Act I, scene iv (67), as he and Horatio debate whether or not to follow Hamlet
and the ghost into the dark night. The line refers both to the idea that the
ghost is an ominous omen for Denmark and to the larger theme of the connection
between the moral legitimacy of a ruler and the health of the state as a whole.
The ghost is a visible symptom of the rottenness of Denmark created by
Claudius’s crime.
4. I have of late,—but wherefore I know not,—lost all my mirth,
forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my
disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile
promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave
o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire,—why, it
appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in
form and moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in
apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals!
And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?
In these lines, Hamlet speaks to
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern in Act II, scene ii (287–298), explaining the
melancholy that has afflicted him since his father’s death. Perhaps moved by
the presence of his former university companions, Hamlet essentially engages in
a rhetorical exercise, building up an elaborate and glorified picture of the
earth and humanity before declaring it all merely a “quintessence of dust.” He
examines the earth, the air, and the sun, and rejects them as “a sterile
promontory” and “a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors.” He then
describes human beings from several perspectives, each one adding to his
glorification of them. Human beings’ reason is noble, their faculties infinite,
their forms and movements fast and admirable, their actions angelic, and their
understanding godlike. But, to Hamlet, humankind is merely dust. This motif, an
expression of his obsession with the physicality of death, recurs throughout
the play, reaching its height in his speech over Yorick’s skull. Finally, it is
also telling that Hamlet makes humankind more impressive in “apprehension”
(meaning understanding) than in “action.” Hamlet himself is more prone to
apprehension than to action, which is why he delays so long before seeking his
revenge on Claudius.
5.
To be, or not to be:
that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler
in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows
of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms
against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end
them?—To die,—to sleep,—
No more; and by a
sleep to say we end
The heartache, and
the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir
to,—’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be
wish’d. To die,—to sleep;—
To sleep: perchance
to dream:—ay, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of
death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled
off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause:
there’s the respect
That makes calamity
of so long life;
For who would bear
the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s
wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despis’d
love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of
office, and the spurns
That patient merit of
the unworthy takes,
When he himself might
his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?
who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat
under a weary life,
But that the dread of
something after death,—
The undiscover’d
country, from whose bourn
No traveller
returns,—puzzles the will,
And makes us rather
bear those ills we have
Than fly to others
that we know not of?
Thus conscience does
make cowards of us all;
And thus the native
hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with
the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of
great pith and moment,
With this regard,
their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of
action.
This soliloquy, probably the most famous speech in the
English language, is spoken by Hamlet in Act III, scene i (58–90). His most
logical and powerful examination of the theme of the moral legitimacy of
suicide in an unbearably painful world, it touches on several of the other
important themes of the play. Hamlet poses the problem of whether to commit
suicide as a logical question: “To be, or not to be,” that is, to live or not
to live. He then weighs the moral ramifications of living and dying. Is it
nobler to suffer life, “[t]he slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,”
passively or to actively seek to end one’s suffering? He compares death to
sleep and thinks of the end to suffering, pain, and uncertainty it might bring,
“[t]he heartache, and the thousand natural shocks / That flesh is heir to.”
Based on this metaphor, he decides that suicide is a desirable course of
action, “a consummation / Devoutly to be wished.” But, as the religious word
“devoutly” signifies, there is more to the question, namely, what will happen
in the afterlife. Hamlet immediately realizes as much, and he reconfigures his
metaphor of sleep to include the possibility of dreaming; he says that the
dreams that may come in the sleep of death are daunting, that they “must give
us pause.”
He then decides that the uncertainty of the afterlife, which
is intimately related to the theme of the difficulty of attaining truth in a
spiritually ambiguous world, is essentially what prevents all of humanity from
committing suicide to end the pain of life. He outlines a long list of the
miseries of experience, ranging from lovesickness to hard work to political
oppression, and asks who would choose to bear those miseries if he could bring
himself peace with a knife, “[w]hen he himself might his quietus make / With a
bare bodkin?” He answers himself again, saying no one would choose to live,
except that “the dread of something after death” makes people submit to the
suffering of their lives rather than go to another state of existence which
might be even more miserable. The dread of the afterlife, Hamlet concludes,
leads to excessive moral sensitivity that makes action impossible: “conscience
does make cowards of us all . . . thus the native hue of resolution / Is sicklied
o’er with the pale cast of thought.”
In this way, this speech connects many of the play’s main
themes, including the idea of suicide and death, the difficulty of knowing the
truth in a spiritually ambiguous universe, and the connection between thought
and action. In addition to its crucial thematic content, this speech is
important for what it reveals about the quality of Hamlet’s mind. His deeply
passionate nature is complemented by a relentlessly logical intellect, which
works furiously to find a solution to his misery. He has turned to religion and
found it inadequate to help him either kill himself or resolve to kill
Claudius. Here, he turns to a logical philosophical inquiry and finds it
equally frustrating.
The Alchemist : Ben Jonson
Lovewit has left for his hop-yards in London, and he has left
Jeremy, his butler, in charge of his house in Blackfriars. Jeremy, whose name
in the play is Face, lives in the house with Subtle, a supposed alchemist, and
Dol Common, a prostitute. The three run a major con operation.
The play opens with an argument that continues throughout the
play between Subtle and Face. It concerns which of them is the most essential
to the business of the con, each claiming his own supremacy. Dol quells this
argument and forces the conmen to shake hands. The bell rings, and Dapper, a
legal clerk, enters, the first gull of the day. Face takes on the role of
“Captain Face”, and Subtle plays the “Doctor.”
Dapper wants a spirit that will allow him to win at gambling.
Subtle promises one and then tells him he is related to the Queen of the
Fairies. Dispatched to get a clean shirt and wash himself, Dapper leaves,
immediately replaced by Drugger, a young tobacconist who wants to know how he
should arrange his shop. Subtle tells him, and Face gets him to return later
with tobacco and a damask. Their argument looks set to resume when Dol returns
to warn them that Sir Epicure Mammon is approaching.
Sir Epicure Mammon and his cynical sidekick, Sir Pertinax
Surly, are next through the door. Mammon is terrifically excited because Subtle
has promised to make him the Philosopher’s Stone, about which Mammon is already
fantasizing. Face changes character into “Lungs” or “Ulen Spiegel,” the
Doctor’s laboratory assistant, and the two conmen impress Mammon and irritate
Surly with a whirl of scientific language. Face arranges for “Captain Face” to
meet Surly in half an hour at the Temple Church, and a sudden entrance from Dol
provokes Mammon, instantly besotted, into begging Face for a meeting with her.
Ananias, an Anabaptist, enters and is greeted with fury by
Subtle. Ananias then returns with his pastor, Tribulation. The Anabaptists want
the Philosopher’s Stone in order to make money in order to win more people to
their religion. Subtle, adopting a slightly different persona, plays along.
Kastrill is the next new gull, brought by Drugger, who has come to learn how to
quarrel—and to case the joint to see if it is fit for his rich, widowed sister,
Dame Pliant. Face immediately impresses young Kastrill, and he exits with
Drugger to fetch his sister.
Dapper, in the meantime, is treated to a fairy rite in which
Subtle and Face (accompanied by Dol on cithern) steal most of his possessions.
When Mammon arrives at the door, they gag him and bundle him into the privy.
Mammon and Dol (pretending to be a “great lady”) have a conversation which ends
with them being bundled together into the garden or upstairs—Face is pretending
that Subtle cannot know about Mammon’s attraction to Dol.
The widow is brought into the play, as is a Spanish Don who
Face met when Surly did not turn up. This Spaniard is in fact Surly in
disguise, and the two conmen flicker between arguing about who will marry the
widow and mocking the Spaniard by speaking loudly in English of how they will
“cozen” or deceive him. Because Dol is occupied with Mammon, the conmen agree
to have the Spaniard marry the widow, and the widow is carried out by Surly.
In the meantime, Dol has gone into a fit of talking, being
caught with a panicked Mammon by a furious “Father” Subtle. Because there has
been lust in the house, a huge explosion happens offstage, which Face comes in
to report has destroyed the furnace and all the alchemical apparatus. Mammon is
quickly packed out the door, completely destroyed by the loss his entire
investment.
Things start to spiral out of control, and the gulls turn up
without warning. At one point, nearly all the gulls, including an unmasked
Surly, are in the room, and Face only just manages to improvise his way out of
it. Dol then reports that Lovewit has arrived, and suddenly Face has to make a
final change into “Jeremy the Butler.”
Lovewit is mobbed by the neighbors and the gulls at the door,
and Face admits to Lovewit, when forced to do so by Dapper’s voice emerging
from the privy, that all is not as it seems—and has him marry the widow. After
Dapper’s quick dispatch, Face undercuts Dol and Subtle and, as the gulls return
with officers and a search warrant, Dol and Subtle are forced to escape, penniless,
over the back wall. The gulls storm the house, find nothing themselves, and are
forced to leave empty-handed. Lovewit leaves with Kastrill and his new wife,
Dame Pliant. Face is left alone on stage with a financial reward, delivering
the epilogue.
J.M. Synge: The Playboy of the Western World
About The Playboy of
the Western World (Background):
J.M. Synge would have been shocked to learn that The Playboy
of the Western World grew to be one of the most widely anthologized works of
English-language drama. The Dublin audience of 1909 jeered and disrupted each
performance of the play’s one-week run at the newly minted Abbey Theatre.
Indeed, for that week the Abbey was the place to be for nationalistic,
God-fearing Irishmen to display their outrage and indignation over the unsavory
portrait of rural Irish life and values. The play received almost uniformly
terrible notices in the papers.
Yet the details of the plot, centering on a man’s personal
transformation and public exaltation through his increasingly fictive account
of patricide, offended less, perhaps, than the ambiguous tone of the work. The
play appears to be grounded in realism yet the premise is audacious and
outlandish. The play meets a vicious climax, ending in an evocation of ironic
lamentation. The audience simply had no idea how to classify and interpret the
work before them.
Was this comedy? If so, what kind? Was Synge channeling
Molière in his send-up of archetypes and through his sharp-tongued wit? The
1909 audience had not seen peasant archetypes portrayed so thoroughly
unromantically and so utterly bloody-mindedly. And unlike Molière, the
characters’ wit found expression in spite of themselves, rather than through
any inherent intelligence. Was this social satire, then? If so, then Synge
surely meant to ridicule the foundations of the community’s moral code, linked
as it was to the Church. Was this political satire? If so, then County Mayo as
a microcosm of greater Ireland was brutal and chaotic, in need of authoritarian
dominance.
Was this realism, in the vein of Ibsen? In an ill-advised
program note, Synge insisted he represented practically verbatim the language,
voice and history of people he had interviewed and spied upon on the Isle of
Aran. If this was the case, the audience failed to recognize these same
islanders. In the same program note, Synge called the play an “extravaganza.”
If that was the case, why did Synge insist on the authenticity of his language
and plot? Either the play was authentically “real” and therefore vile in its
depiction of Irish life or it was truly “extravagant,” akin to Cervantes’ Don
Quixote and therefore of fraudulent cultural relevance. Was the play perhaps an
allegory for the violence and corruption attendant upon the creation of a new
nation?
Every interpretation invited offense.
Synge’s life preceded the nihilistic dramatic universe of his
countryman Samuel Beckett. Synge preceded, as well, the explosion of modernist
invention that sought to recreate dramatic and literary form. Synge’s Playboy
stands alone much as Christy Mahon does at the end of the play, explosive in
life-force and self-individuation. The proper tone of Playboy eludes us today
as readily as it did the critics from the early 20th century. And for this we
are in its thrall.
Preface
In his short preface to the play, Synge emphasizes a link
between the imagination of the country people and their speech itself,
"rich and living." He goes on to assert that "In a good play
every speech should be as fully flavoured as a nut or apple." He again
links this "flavour" to the "popular imagination" of a
people who are "fiery" and "magnificent." Synge credits,
essentially, rural Ireland for providing such people, and further credits
himself for having the presence of mind and poetic vision to recognize them.
Act I
The entire play is set in a public house (or pub) "on
the wild coast of Mayo," outside a village in Northwestern Ireland, circa
1907. Pegeen Mike, the alehouse owner’s daughter, sits alone, penning a letter
ordering the supplies she’ll need for her upcoming marriage to Shawn Keogh. She
is alone in the pub because her father, Michael James, has left to attend a
wake.
Shawn Keogh enters, remarking upon the depth of the dark
outside. Pegeen asks him to stay with her since this night makes her nervous as
well. Shawn refuses, since it is improper to spend unchaperoned time with a
girl. He offers to send the Widow Quin to stay with her.
Shawn reveals that he has heard wailing outside, from a man
in a ditch. Michael James enters with his friends Philly and Jimmy. They are
drunk and have not yet gone to the wake. Michael James demands Shawn stay with
Pegeen, but Shawn refuses, fearing the disapprobation of a Father Reilly. The
men set on him and Shawn tries to flee, but then reports that he sees a face
looking up out of the ditch.
Christy Mahon, frightened and dirty, enters the pub. A shy
young man, he wishes to warm himself by the fire. He reveals that he’s on the
run from the police. He doesn’t wish to reveal the reason, but eventually
admits that he killed his father.
The group is greatly impressed by this news, by the strength
of character of a man who could kill his own father. Michael James sees an
opportunity to hire a man of this quality and offers him a job on the spot.
Furthermore, Christy can keep Pegeen company this evening. Michael, Philly and
Jimmy leave for their wake and a very-intrigued Pegeen chases Shawn away.
Pegeen admires Christy, complimenting him on his physique,
his face, his speech and his courage. Christy swells with unfamiliar pride.
Widow Quin appears. Meeting Christy, the Widow describes her
own modest property, hoping to seduce Christy. Pegeen insults her and sends her
off. As she leaves, the Widow refers to Pegeen’s impending nuptials with Shawn.
This news devastates Christy, since he has fallen for Pegeen. But she assures
him she’d never marry the like of Shawn, and Christy heads to bed musing that
if he’d known killing his father would bring such fortune upon him, he’d have
done it much sooner.
Act II
Three village girls arrive to check out the stranger they’ve
heard about. Giggling and flirting, they offer him presents. They’ve all heard
of his murderous deed. The Widow Quin returns and announces that she’s
registered Christy for the sports competition on the beach. The girls joke that
the Widow and Christy would make a fine match.
As they eat breakfast, Christy relishes a retelling of the
fight with his father. He admits that the cause of the fight was that his
father had promised him to a Widow woman twice his age. Furthermore, his father
had menaced him with a scythe. Christy then truck his father with a loy.
Pegeen enters and chases the women out. Jealous, she accuses
Christy of flirting, which he denies. The two exchange kind, tender words.
They’re falling in love.
Shawn and Widow Quin re-enter, alerting Pegeen that her sheep
had wandered off. Pegeen runs out, leaving the three alone. Shawn offers
Christy a one-way ticket to America and all his fine clothes. All he asks in
return is that Christy leave their village forever. Christy rejects his offer,
but the Widow encourages him to try on Shawn’s clothes anyway.
Christy changes, leaving Shawn and the Widow alone together.
Shawn promises animals and wealth to the Widow if she can endeavor to figure
some way to interfere with Christy and Pegeen’s affair. The Widow strikes a
deal with Shawn, promising to lure Christy into marrying her, not Pegeen. Shawn
leaves.
When Christy struts back in wearing Shawn’s clothes, he
staggers back, aghast. He sees the spirit of his “murdered da” outside the
window. He hides just as Old Mahon. Christy’s father, enters.
Old Mahon, a bandage round his bloodied head, demands to know
if the Widow has seen a man matching his son’s description. He describes
Christy as weak, stupid and useless. The Widow throws Mahon off by sending him
to the docks, where she pretends to have seen such a stranger waiting to board
a steamer. Mahon exits.
Christy panics over the “resurrection” of his father. Pegeen
loves him for his murderous heroism, after all. What will she do if she finds
out? He begs the Widow to help him. The Widow names her price, Christy agrees,
and just like that, relinquishes her deal with Shawn.
The girls who visited earlier re-enter and lead Christy down
to the beach to the sports competition.
Act III
Jimmy and Philly enter the empty pub. They discuss the
excitement of the sports, which Christy utterly dominated. Christy is a great
athlete, but his constant boasting of his bygone patricide annoys them.
Old Mahon re-enters the pub. Showing the men his wound, he
asks again after his son. The men grow suspicious of Christy’s story just as
Widow Quin enters. She confides to Jimmy and Philly that Mahon is crazy, and
that he has co-opted Christy’s story as his own. Nonetheless, the men ask Mahon
to describe his son. The Widow interrupts, inquiring whether his son was a
great athlete? Certainly not, exclaims Old Mahon. Through her cunning, she
throws all three men off Christy’s scent.
But the cheering from the beach reaches the pub, and Mahon
wishes to glimpse the sports, himself. He looks down upon the beach from a
window and sees the great athlete: Christy. The Widow convinces Mahon that with
his head injury, he must be crazy. Mahon concedes the point. The three men
exit.
Christy, Pegeen and the crowd enter, Christy clutching his
prizes. The crowd disperses to return to the sports, leaving Christy alone with
Pegeen. He proposes and she accepts.
Michael James, still drunk from the wake, enters alongside
Shawn. Michael reveals that the dispensation from Father Reilly has arrived for
Shawn and Pegeen’s wedding. Pegeen defies her father and announces her
intention to marry Christy. Michael objects and encourages Shawn and Christy to
duke it out on the beach. Shawn is frightened of Christy. This hardens Michael
against Shawn and Michael blesses Christy and Pegeen’s match.
Outside, a cry goes up as Mahon bursts into the pub, rushing
at Christy and knocking him down. Christy cringes and his lie is revealed.
Christy begs for mercy from the crowd and from Pegeen. They will not grant it.
Pegeen urges Mahon to take his son away before she sets the
town’s boys on him. Mahon grabs Christy, who resists. The crowd eggs on the
fight between father and won. Christy turns on the crowd, grabbing a loy and
menacing them. He chases Mahon from the pub, loy raised high.
Everyone rushes out. There is a loud cry and then silence.
Christy stumbles back in, dazed. The Widow Quin follows, urging Christy to run,
since the crowd has turned against him. But Christy believes that now that he’s
killed his father for real, Pegeen will reinstate him to her heart.
He is wrong. From the doorway, Michael, Philly and Pegeen
throw a loop of rope around Christy, confining his arms and torso. Christy asks
Pegeen whether she’ll not now have him, but she asserts there’s a difference
between a “gallous story” and a “dirty deed.”
Writhing on the floor, Christy threatens to kill them. He
bites Shawn in the leg. Pegeen burns Christy with a hot poker. Christy conjures
the welcome he shall receive from Satan once he’s been hanged.
But then Mahon crawls back in. He demands to know why his son
is bound and takes it on himself to free him. Christy inquires whether his
father has returned to be killed a third time. Mahon informs the group that he
and his son will speak of County Mayo’s villainy for years to come.
But Christy will not leave peacefully with Mahon. He pushes
the old man roughly, declaring that his departure is that of a “gallant captain
with his heathen slave.” Old Mahon is amazed and delighted by this change in his
son. The two leave.
Shawn approaches Pegeen to remind her of their wedding
engagement. She boxes Shawn’s ear and sends him out. Crying wildly, she laments
that she’s ‘lost the only Playboy of the Western World.”
PYGMALION : George Bernard Shaw
Summary Two old gentlemen meet in the rain one night at Covent
Garden. Professor Higgins is a scientist of phonetics, and Colonel Pickering is
a linguist of Indian dialects. The first bets the other that he can, with his
knowledge of phonetics, convince high London society that, in a matter of
months, he will be able to transform the cockney speaking Covent Garden flower
girl, Eliza Doolittle, into a woman as poised and well-spoken as a duchess. The
next morning, the girl appears at his laboratory on Wimpole Street to ask for
speech lessons, offering to pay a shilling, so that she may speak properly
enough to work in a flower shop. Higgins makes merciless fun of her, but is
seduced by the idea of working his magic on her. Pickering goads him on by
agreeing to cover the costs of the experiment if Higgins can pass Eliza off as
a duchess at an ambassador's garden party. The challenge is taken, and Higgins
starts by having his housekeeper bathe Eliza and give her new clothes. Then
Eliza's father Alfred Doolittle comes to demand the return of his daughter,
though his real intention is to hit Higgins up for some money. The professor,
amused by Doolittle's unusual rhetoric, gives him five pounds. On his way out,
the dustman fails to recognize the now clean, pretty flower girl as his
daughter.
For a number of months, Higgins trains Eliza to speak
properly. Two trials for Eliza follow. The first occurs at Higgins' mother's
home, where Eliza is introduced to the Eynsford Hills, a trio of mother,
daughter, and son. The son Freddy is very attracted to her, and further taken
with what he thinks is her affected "small talk" when she slips into
cockney. Mrs. Higgins worries that the experiment will lead to problems once it
is ended, but Higgins and Pickering are too absorbed in their game to take
heed. A second trial, which takes place some months later at an ambassador's
party (and which is not actually staged), is a resounding success. The wager is
definitely won, but Higgins and Pickering are now bored with the project, which
causes Eliza to be hurt. She throws Higgins' slippers at him in a rage because
she does not know what is to become of her, thereby bewildering him. He
suggests she marry somebody. She returns him the hired jewelry, and he accuses
her of ingratitude.
The following morning, Higgins rushes to his mother, in a
panic because Eliza has run away. On his tail is Eliza's father, now unhappily
rich from the trust of a deceased millionaire who took to heart Higgins'
recommendation that Doolittle was England's "most original moralist."
Mrs. Higgins, who has been hiding Eliza upstairs all along, chides the two of
them for playing with the girl's affections. When she enters, Eliza thanks
Pickering for always treating her like a lady, but threatens Higgins that she
will go work with his rival phonetician, Nepommuck. The outraged Higgins cannot
help but start to admire her. As Eliza leaves for her father's wedding, Higgins
shouts out a few errands for her to run, assuming that she will return to him
at Wimpole Street. Eliza, who has a lovelorn sweetheart in Freddy, and the
wherewithal to pass as a duchess, never makes it clear whether she will or not.
In his preface to the play, Shaw writes that the figure of
Henry Higgins is partly based on Alexander Melville Bell, the inventor of
Visible Speech. How does Shaw utilize this idea of "Visible Speech"?
Is it an adequate concept to use to approach people?
Through the concept of "Visible Speech," Shaw hits
on the two aspects of theater that can make the greatest impression on an
audience: sight and sound. Therefore, the transformation of Eliza Doolittle is
most marked and obvious on these two scales. In regard to both these senses,
Pygmalion stays faithful to the most clichéd formula of the standard
rags-to-riches stories, in that the heroine changes drastically in the most
external ways. However, while Eliza certainly changes in these blatant external
ways, these changes serve as a mask for a more fundamental development of
self-respect that Eliza undergoes. Because Higgins only ever charts
"Visible Speech," it makes him liable to forget that there are other
aspects to human beings that can also grow. But in the possible loss that
Higgins faces in the final scene, and in is inability to recognize that loss as
a possibility at all, the play makes certain that its audience sees the tension
between internal and external change, and that sight and sound do not become
measures of virtue, personality, or internal worth.
It has been said that Pygmalion is not a play about turning a
flower girl into a duchess, but one about turning a woman into a human being.
Do you agree?
When Eliza Doolittle threatens Higgins that she will take his
phonetic findings to his rival in order to support herself, art imitates life,
and Shaw's literature echoes a significant episode from his own youth. As a
boy, Shaw's mother was an accomplished singer who dedicated herself to the
perfection of "The Method," her teacher George Vandeleur Lee's
yoga-like approach to voice training. She went so far as to leave her husband
to follow her teacher to London. However, upon realizing that Lee was concerned
only about his appearances and the status of his street address, she left him
and brought up her daughters by setting up shop herself, teaching "The
Method" as if it were her own. Shaw could not have helped but be impressed
and influenced by this courageous move on the part of his mother to strike out
on her own and to create an independent life for herself. Thus, though
Pygmalion shows a lot of sympathy for the flower girl who wants a higher
station in life, it is even more concerned with the unloved, neglected woman
who decides to make herself heard once and for all. The plays determination to
have Eliza grow into a full human being with her own mind and will also
explains why the play makes seemingly inexplicable structural moves like
leaving out the climax, and carrying on for a further two acts after the
climax. In other words, the superficial climax is not the real climax at all,
and Shaw's project is deeper than that of a fairy godmother.
What is the Pygmalion myth? In what significant ways, and
with what effect, has Shaw transformed that myth in his play?
The Pygmalion myth comes from Ovid's Metamorphoses. Pygmalion
is a sculptor who creates a sculpture of a woman so perfectly formed that he
falls in love with her. Aphrodite is moved by his love and touches the statue
to life so that she becomes Galatea, and the sculptor can experience live bliss
with his own creation. While Shaw maintains the skeletal structure of the
fantasy in which a gifted male fashions a woman out of lifeless raw material
into a worthy partner for himself, Shaw does not allow the male to fall in love
with his creation. Right to the last act, Higgins is still quarrelsome and
derisive in his interaction with Eliza, and does not even think of her as an
object of romantic interest. Shaw goes on to undo the myth by injecting the
play with other Pygmalion figures like Mrs. Pearce and Pickering, and to
suggest that the primary Pygmalion himself is incomplete, and not ideal himself.
In transforming the Pygmalion myth in such a way, Shaw calls into question the
ideal status afforded to the artist, and further exposes the inadequacies of
myths and romances that overlook the mundane, human aspects of life.
"I care for life, for humanity;
and you are a part of it that has come my way and been built into my house.
What more can you or anyone ask?" Henry Higgins has this to say to Eliza
when she complains that he does not care for anybody and threatens to leave
him. How does the professor of phonetics treat the people in his life? Can one
ask for more?
Describe the primary ways in which Eliza Doolittle changes in
the course of the play. Which is the most important transformation, and what
clues does Shaw give us to indicate this?
While Eliza Doolittle is being remade, Victorian society
itself can be said to be unmade. How does Shaw reveal the pruderies,
hypocrisies, and inconsistencies of this higher society to which the kerbstone flower
girl aspires? Do his sympathies lie with the lower or upper classes?
"The great secret, Eliza, is not having bad manners or
good manners or any other sort of manners, but having the same manner for all
human souls: in short, behaving as if you were in Heaven, where there are no
third-class carriages, and one soul is as good as another." It is no small
coincidence that the author of Higgins' Universal Alphabet is the same man to
blur social distinctions, thereby suggesting that social standing is a matter
of nurture, not nature. Examine carefully Higgins' attitude towards his fellow
men. Can this be taken as an admirable brand of socialism? Or does he fail as a
compassionate being in his absolutism?
Is "A Romance in Five Acts" an accurate description
of the play Pygmalion? How does the play conform (or not) to the traditional
form of a romance (for example: boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy meets
girl's father/evil twin/ex-fiance, boy learns to love girl despite everything,
boy and girl live happily ever after...)? What do you think Shaw is trying to
achieve in highlighting the concept of the romance in the title? (Hint: You
might want to look closely at the written sequel to the play, in which Shaw
gives some very strong opinions about romances.)
If you were to create a sixth act to
Pygmalion, who would Eliza marry? Or does she marry at all? Use the lines and
behavior of the characters throughout the first five acts to support the
outcome of your finale.
If possible, try to watch the film version of Pygmalion
(1938, screenplay by Shaw), and even the Audrey Hepburn film of the musical My
Fair Lady (1956). Consider what has been changed, removed, or enhanced in the
move from the stage to the screen, and from a talking play to a musical. What
does each subsequent adaptation reveal about popular expectations of a romance,
versus the original intentions of the playwright? In your opinion, which of
these works is the best? Why?
T.S. Eliot: Murder in the Cathedral
Eliot wrote his play for an audience expected to know the
historical story of Thomas Becket and King Henry II. As such, a brief review of
that story, contained in the "About Thomas Becket and King Henry II"
section of the Note, will greatly aid comprehension of a summary.
Murder in the Cathedral opens in the Archbishop's Hall, on
December 2nd, 1170. A Chorus, comprised of women of Canterbury, has gathered at
the cathedral with some premonition of a terrible event to come. In a long
speech, they reflect on how their lives are defined by suffering, and then
reflect on their archbishop, Thomas Becket. He has been been in exile from
England for seven years, after a terrible clash with King Henry. The women
worry that his return could make their lives more difficult by angering the
king.
Three priests enter the hall, and they lament Thomas's
absence as well. They debate the ramifications of his potential return, and a
Herald arrives, bringing news that Thomas has indeed returned to England and
will soon arrive in Canterbury. The Herald quashes their hopes that his return
indicates reconciliation with Henry, and confesses his own concern that
violence is soon to follow the archbishop's return.
Once the heralds leave, the priests reflect on Thomas's time
as Chancellor of England, when he served as secular administrator under Henry.
The Chorus, listening to the priests discuss the matter, confesses its
disappointment in his return, which they believe will bring them more
suffering. They admit their lives are hard but also predictable, and they would
rather "perish in quiet" than live through the turmoil of new
political and spiritual upheaval (180).
The Second Priest insults them, and insists they pretend
happiness to welcome Thomas. However, Thomas enters during this exchange, and
stresses that the priest is mistaken to chide them, since they have some sense
of the difficulty that awaits them. He stresses that all should submit to
patience, since none can truly know God's plans or intentions.
A series of tempters enter, one by one, and attempt to
compromise Thomas's integrity. The First Tempter reminds Thomas of the
carefree, libertine ways of his youth, and tempts him to relinquish his
responsibilities in favor of a more carefree life. The Second Tempter suggests
Thomas reclaim the title of Chancellor, since he could do more good for the
poor through a powerful political post than he could as a religious figure. The
Third Tempter posits a progressive form of government, in which ruler and
barons work together as "coalition." In effect, he offers Thomas a
chance to rule and break new ground in government. Thomas easily rejects all
three tempters; after all, they are all forms of temptation that he had already
rejected in his life.
A Fourth Tempter enters, and suggests the idea of martyrdom,
which he notes would give Thomas the greatest dominion over his enemies. He
would be remembered throughout the ages if he allowed himself to die for the
Church, while his enemies would be judged and then forgotten by time. Thomas is
shaken by this temptation, since it is something he has often entertained in
his private moments. He recognizes that to die "for the wrong
reason," pride, would compromise the integrity of a martyrdom, so must
overcome that impulse if his death is to have meaning.
While he considers the dilemma, all of the characters thus
far mentioned (save the Herald) give a long address considering the uncertainty
of life. When they finish, Thomas announces that his "way [is] clear"
– he will not seek martyrdom from fame, but instead will willingly submit to
God's will. He has accepted his fate. Part I ends here.
Between Part I and Part II, Thomas Becket preaches a sermon
in an Interlude, in which he restates the lesson he learns at the end of Part
I. It is set in the cathedral on Christmas morning, 1170. In the sermon, Thomas
considers the mystery of Christianity, which both mourns and celebrates the
fact of Christ's death – they mourn the world that make it necessary, while
celebrating the sacrifice that enables others to transcend that world. He
suggests that the appreciation of martyrs is a smaller version of that mystery,
and defines "the true martyr [as] he who has become the instrument of God,
who has lost his will in the will of God, not lost it but found it, for he has
found freedom in his submission to God" (199). He closes his sermon by
admitting he might not preach to this congregation again.
The first scene of Part II is set in the Archbishop's Hall on
December 29th, 1170. The terrified Chorus begins with an ominous address, after
which four boorish knights enter. They insist they are there on Henry's
business from France, and demand an audience with Thomas despite attempts by
the priests to distract them.
Thomas arrives, and is immediately insulted and chided by the
knights for what they perceive as disloyalty towards Henry and misuse of the
archbishopric to incite opposition to England. Thomas denies their
interpretation of events, but also reveals a serenity and readiness to die when
necessary. The knights attempt to attack him, but are interrupted by the
priests. A more specific political argument follows, during which Thomas
continues to deny their claims but also to insult them as overly concerned with
petty, political matters. Angry, the knights threaten the priests with death if
they let Becket escape, and then the knights leave.
The Chorus gives a brutal, evocative speech, and Thomas
comforts them. He acknowledges that, by bearing necessary witness to the ritual
of his death, their lives will grow more difficult but that they can likewise
find comfort in recollection on having been here this fateful day.
As the knights approach again, the priests beg Thomas to
flee, but he refuses to flee his fate. They force him from the hall and into
the cathedral, against his protestations. As the scene changes, the women of
the Chorus steel themselves for the death soon to follow.
The priests bar the doors, which the knights then begin to
besiege it. When their arguments do not convince Thomas – who accuses them of
thinking too much of cause-and-effect, rather than accepting God's plan – the
priests open the door and the knights enter. They are drunk, and demand Thomas
lift all the excommunications he has put upon English rulers. He refuses, and
they murder him. While Thomas is being murdered, the Chorus gives a long,
desperate address lamenting the life they will now have to lead in the shadow
of Thomas's martyrdom.
After the murder is done, the four knights turn towards the
audience and address them directly. They wish to explain themselves, and defend
their actions. The First Knight admits he has no facility for argument, and so
acts as an MC to introduce the other knights. The Second Knight admits he
understands how the audience and history will hate them, but begs the audience
to realize the knights were "disinterested" in the murder; they were
merely following orders that were necessary for the good of England (216). The
Third Knight presents a long, complex argument suggesting that Becket was
guilty of betraying the English people, and hence was killed justly. The Fouth
Knight suggests that Becket willed his own death by pursing martyrdom for the
sake of pride, and hence is guilty of suicide, making the knights not guilty of
murder.
Once the knights leave, the priests lament Thomas's death,
and worry about what the world will become. The Chorus gives the final speech,
revealing that they have accepted their duty as Christians. They acknowledge
that living up to the sacrifice Thomas made is difficult, but that they will be
spiritually richer for undertaking it, and they beg mercy and forgiveness from
Thomas and God.
John
Osborne: Look Back in Anger
Look Back in Anger begins in the attic flat apartment of
Jimmy Porter and Alison Porter. The setting is mid-1950's small town England.
Jimmy and Alison share their apartment with Cliff Lewis, a young working class
man who is best friends with Jimmy. Cliff and Jimmy both come from a working
class background, though Jimmy has had more education than Cliff. They are in
business together running a sweet-stall. Alison comes from a more prominent
family and it is clear from the beginning that Jimmy resents this fact.
The first act opens on a Sunday in April. Jimmy and Cliff are
reading the Sunday papers while Alison is ironing in a corner of the room.
Jimmy is a hot tempered young man and he begins to try and provoke both Cliff
and Alison. He is antagonistic towards Cliff's working class background and
makes fun of him for his low intelligence. Cliff is good natured and takes the
antagonism. Jimmy attempts to provoke his wife, Alison, by making fun of her
family and her well-heeled life before she married him. Jimmy also seems to
display a nostalgia for England's powerful past. He notes that the world has
entered a "dreary" American age, a fact he begrudgingly accepts.
Alison tires of Jimmy's rants and begs for peace. This makes Jimmy more fevered
in his insults. Cliff attempts to keep peace between the two and this leads to
a playful scuffle between the two. Their wrestling ends up running into Alison,
causing her to fall down. Jimmy is sorry for the incident, but Alison makes him
leave the room.
After Jimmy leaves, Alison confides to Cliff that she is
pregnant with Jimmy's child, though she has not yet told Jimmy. Cliff advises
her to tell him, but when Cliff goes out and Jimmy re-enters the room, the two
instead fall into an intimate game. Jimmy impersonates a stuffed bear and
Alison impersonates a toy squirrel. Cliff returns to tell Alison that her old
friend, Helena Charles, has called her on the phone. Alison leaves to take the
call and returns with the news that Helena is coming to stay for a visit. Jimmy
does not like Helena and goes into a rage in which he wishes that Alison would
suffer in order to know what it means to be a real person. He curses her and
wishes that she could have a child only to watch it die.
Two weeks later, Helena has arrived and Alison discusses her
relationship with Jimmy. She tells of how they met and how, in their younger
days, they used to crash parties with their friend Hugh Tanner. Jimmy maintains
an affection for Hugh's mother, though his relationship with Hugh was strained
when Hugh left to travel the world and Jimmy stayed to be with Alison. Jimmy
seems to regret that he could not leave, but he is also angry at Hugh for
abandoning his mother. Helena inquires about Alison's affectionate relationship
with Cliff and Alison tells her that they are strictly friends.
Cliff and Jimmy return to the flat and Helena tells them that
she and Alison are leaving for church. Jimmy goes into an anti-religious rant
and ends up insulting Alison's family once again. Helena becomes angry and
Jimmy dares her to slap him on the face, warning her that he will slap her
back. He tells her of how he watched his father die as a young man. His father
had been injured fighting in the Spanish Civil War and had returned to England
only to die shortly after. Alison and Helena begin to leave for church and
Jimmy feels betrayed by his wife.
A phone call comes in for Jimmy and he leaves the room.
Helena tells Alison that she has called Alison's father to come get her and
take her away from this abusive home. Alison relents and says that she will go
when her father picks her up the next day. When Jimmy returns, he tells Alison
that Mrs. Tanner, Hugh's mother, has become sick and is going to die. Jimmy
decides to visit her and he demands that Alison make a choice of whether to go
with Helena or with him. Alison picks up her things and leaves for church and
Jimmy collapses on the bed, heartbroken by his wife's decision.
The next evening Alison is packing and talking with her
father, Colonel Redfern. The Colonel is a soft spoken man who realizes that he
does not quite understand the love that exists between Jimmy and Alison. He
admits that the actions of him and his wife are partly to blame for their
split. The Colonel was an officer in the British military and served in India
and he is nostalgic for his time there. He considers his service to be some of
the best years of his life. Alison observes that her father is hurt because the
present is not the past and that Jimmy is hurt because he feels the present is
only the past. Alison begins to pack her toy squirrel, but then she decides not
to do so.
Helena and Cliff soon enter the scene. Alison leaves a letter
for Jimmy explaining why she has left and she gives it to Cliff. After Alison
leaves, Cliff becomes angry and gives the letter to Helena, blaming her for the
situation. Jimmy returns, bewildered that he was almost hit by Colonel
Redfern's car and that Cliff pretended not to see him when he was walking by on
the street. He reads Alison's letter and becomes very angry. Helena tells him
that Alison is pregnant, but Jimmy tells her that he does not care. He insults
Helena and she slaps him, then passionately kisses him.
Several months pass and the third act opens with Jimmy and
Cliff once again reading the Sunday papers while Helena stands in the corner
ironing. Jimmy and Cliff still engage in their angry banter and Helena's
religious tendencies have taken the brunt of Jimmy's punishment. Jimmy and
Cliff perform scenes from musicals and comedy shows but when Helena leaves,
Cliff notes that things do not feel the same with her here. Cliff then tells Jimmy
that he wants to move out of the apartment. Jimmy takes the news calmly and
tells him that he has been a loyal friend and is worth more than any woman.
When Helena returns, the three plan to go out. Alison suddenly enters.
Alison and Helena talk while Jimmy leaves the room. He begins
to loudly play his trumpet. Alison has lost her baby and looks sick. Helena
tells Alison that she should be angry with her for what she has done, but
Alison is only grieved by the loss of her baby. Helena is driven to distraction
by Jimmy's trumpet playing and demands that he come into the room. When he
comes back in, he laments the fact that Alison has lost the baby but shrugs it
off. Helena then tells Jimmy and Alison that her sense of morality -- right and
wrong -- has not diminished and that she knows she must leave. Alison attempts
to persuade her to stay, telling her that Jimmy will be alone if she leaves.
When Helena leaves, Jimmy attempts to once again become angry
but Alison tells him that she has now gone through the emotional and physical
suffering that he has always wanted her to feel. He realizes that she has
suffered greatly, has become like him, and becomes softer and more tender
towards her. The play ends with Jimmy and Alison embracing, once again playing
their game of bear and squirrel.
Samuel Beckett : Waiting for Godot
Two men, Vladimir and Estragon, meet near a tree. They
converse on various topics and reveal that they are waiting there for a man
named Godot. While they wait, two other men enter. Pozzo is on his way to the
market to sell his slave, Lucky. He pauses for a while to converse with
Vladimir and Estragon. Lucky entertains them by dancing and thinking, and Pozzo
and Lucky leave.
After Pozzo and Lucky leave, a boy enters and tells Vladimir
that he is a messenger from Godot. He tells Vladimir that Godot will not be
coming tonight, but that he will surely come tomorrow. Vladimir asks him some
questions about Godot and the boy departs. After his departure, Vladimir and
Estragon decide to leave, but they do not move as the curtain falls.
The next night, Vladimir and Estragon again meet near the
tree to wait for Godot. Lucky and Pozzo enter again, but this time Pozzo is
blind and Lucky is dumb. Pozzo does not remember meeting the two men the night
before. They leave and Vladimir and Estragon continue to wait.
Shortly after, the boy enters and once again tells Vladimir
that Godot will not be coming. He insists that he did not speak to Vladimir
yesterday. After he leaves, Estragon and Vladimir decide to leave, but again
they do not move as the curtain falls, ending the play.
Summary of Act I
The setting is in the evening on a country road with a single
tree present. Estragon is trying to pull off his boot, but without success.
Vladimir enters and greets Estragon, who informs him that he has spent the
night in a ditch where he was beaten. With supreme effort Estragon succeeds in
pulling off his boot. He then looks inside it to see if there is anything there
while Vladimir does the same with his hat.
Vladimir mentions the two thieves who were crucified next to
Christ. He asks Estragon if he knows the Gospels. Estragon gives a short
description of the maps of the Holy Land at which point Vladimir tells him he
should have been a poet. Estragon points to his tattered clothes and says he
was. Vladimir continues with his narrative about the two thieves in order to
pass the time.
Estragon wants to leave but Vladimir forces him to stay
because they are both waiting for Godot to arrive. Neither of the two bums
knows when Godot will appear, or even if they are at the right place. Later it
is revealed that they do not even know what they originally asked Godot for.
Estragon gets bored of waiting and suggests that they pass
the time by hanging themselves from the tree. They both like the idea but
cannot decide who should go first. They are afraid that if one of them dies the
other might be left alone. In the end they decide it is safer to wait until
Godot arrives.
Estragon asks Vladimir whether they still have rights.
Vladimir indicates that they got rid of them. He then fears that he hears
something, but it turns out to be imaginary noises. Vladimir soon gives
Estragon a carrot to eat.
Pozzo and Lucky arrive. Lucky has a rope tied around his neck
and is carrying a stool, a basket, a bag and a greatcoat. Pozzo carries a whip
which he uses to control Lucky. Estragon immediately confuses Pozzo with Godot
which gets Pozzo upset.
Pozzo spends several minutes ordering Lucky around. Lucky is
completely silent and obeys like a machine. Pozzo has Lucky put down the stool
and open the basket of food which contains chicken. Pozzo then eats the chicken
and throws away the bones. Lucky stands in a stooped posture holding the bags
after each command has been completed and appears to be falling asleep.
Estragon and Vladimir go to inspect Lucky who intrigues them.
They ask why he never puts his bags down. Pozzo will not tell them, so Estragon
proceeds to ask if he can have the chicken bones that Pozzo has been throwing
away. Pozzo tells him that they technically belong to Lucky. When they ask
Lucky if he wants them, he does not reply, so Estragon is given the bones.
Pozzo eventually tells them why Lucky hold the bags the
entire time. He thinks it is because Lucky is afraid of being given away. While
Pozzo tells them why Lucky continues to carry his bags, Lucky starts to weep.
Estragon goes to wipe away the tears but receives a terrible kick in the shin.
Pozzo then tells them that he and Lucky have been together
nearly sixty years. Vladimir is appalled at the treatment of Lucky who appears
to be such a faithful servant. Pozzo explains that he cannot bear it any longer
because Lucky is such a burden. Later Vladimir yells at Lucky that it is
appalling the way he treats such a good master.
Pozzo then gives an oratory about the night sky. He asks them
how it was and they tell him it was quite a good speech. Pozzo is ecstatic at
the encouragement and offers to do something for them. Estragon immediately
asks for ten francs but Vladimir tells him to be silent. Pozzo offers to have
Lucky dance and then think for them.
Lucky dances for them and when asked for an encore repeats
the entire dance step for step. Estragon is unimpressed but almost falls trying
to imitate it. They then make Lucky think. What follows is an outpouring of
religious and political doctrine which always starts ideas but never brings
them to completion. The three men finally wrestle Lucky to the ground and yank
off his hat at which point he stops speaking. His last word is,
"unfinished."
The men then spend some effort trying to get Lucky to wake up
again. He finally reawakens when the bags are placed in his hand. Pozzo gets up
to leave and he and Lucky depart the scene. Vladimir and Estragon return to
their seats and continue waiting for Godot.
A young boy arrives having been sent by Mr. Godot. Estragon
is outraged that it took him so long to arrive and scares him. Vladimir cut him
off and asks the boy if he remembers him. The boy says this is his first time
coming to meet them and that Mr. Godot will not be able to come today but
perhaps tomorrow. The boy is sent away with the instructions to tell Mr. Godot
that he has seen them. Both Estragon and Vladimir discuss past events and then
decide to depart for the night. Neither of them moves from his seat.
Summary of Act II
The setting is the next day at the same time. Estragon's
boots and Lucky's hat are still on the stage. Vladimir enters and starts to
sing until Estragon shows up barefoot. Estragon is upset that Vladimir was
singing and happy even though he was not there. Both admit that they feel
better when alone but convince themselves they are happy when together. They
are still waiting for Godot.
Estragon and Vladimir poetically talk about "all the
dead voices" they hear. They are haunted by voices in the sounds of
nature, especially of the leaves rustling. Vladimir shouts at Estragon to help
him not hear the voices anymore. Estragon tries and finally decides that they
should ask each other questions. They manage to talk for a short while.
Estragon has forgotten everything that took place the day
before. He has forgotten all about Pozzo and Lucky as well as the fact that he
wanted to hang himself from the tree. He cannot remember his boots and thinks
they must be someone else's. For some reason they fit him now when he tries
them on. The tree has sprouted leaves since the night before and Estragon
comments that it must be spring. But when Vladimir looks at Estragon's shin, it
is still pussy and bleeding from where Lucky kicked him.
Soon they are done talking and try to find another topic for
discussion. Vladimir finds Lucky's hat and tries it on. He and Estragon spend a
while trading hats until Vladimir throws his own hat on the ground and asks how
he looks. They then decide to play at being Pozzo and Lucky, but to no avail.
Estragon leaves only to immediately return panting. He says that they are
coming. Vladimir thinks that it must be Godot who is coming to save them. He
then becomes afraid and tries to hide Estragon behind the tree, which is too
small to hide him.
The conversation then degenerates into abusive phrases.
Estragon says, "That's the idea, let's abuse each other." They
continue to hurl insults at one another until Estragon calls Vladimir a critic.
They embrace and continue waiting.
Pozzo and Lucky enter but this time Pozzo is blind and Lucky
is mute. Lucky stops when he sees the two men. Pozzo crashes into him and they
both fall helplessly in a heap on the ground. Vladimir is overjoyed that
reinforcements have arrived to help with the waiting. Estragon again thinks
that Godot has arrived.
Vladimir and Estragon discuss the merits of helping Pozzo get
off the ground where he has fallen. When Vladimir asks how many other men spend
their time in waiting, Estragon replies that it is billions. Pozzo in
desperation offers to pay for help by offering a hundred francs. Estragon says
that it is not enough. Vladimir does not want to pick up Pozzo because then he
and Estragon would be alone again. Finally he goes over and tries to pick him
up but is unable to. Estragon decides to leave but decides to stay when
Vladimir convinces him to help first and then leave.
While trying to help Pozzo, both Vladimir and Estragon fall
and cannot get up. When Pozzo talks again Vladimir kicks him violently to make
him shut up. Vladimir and Estragon finally get up, and Pozzo resumes calling
for help. They go and help him up. Pozzo asks who they are and what time it is.
They cannot answer his questions.
Estragon goes to wake up Lucky. He kicks him and starts
hurling abuses until he again hurts his foot. Estragon sits back down and tries
to take off his boot. Vladimir tells Pozzo his friend is hurt.
Vladimir then asks Pozzo to make Lucky dance or think for them
again. Pozzo tells him that Lucky is mute. When Vladimir asks since when, Pozzo
gets into a rage. He tells them to stop harassing him with their time questions
since he has no notion of it. He then helps Lucky up and they leave.
Vladimir reflects upon the fact that there is no truth and
that by tomorrow he will know nothing of what has just passed. There is no way
of confirming his memories since Estragon always forgets everything that
happens to him.
The boy arrives again but does not remember meeting Estragon
or Vladimir. He tells them it is his first time coming to meet them. The
conversation is identical in that Mr. Godot will once again not be able to come
but will be sure to arrive tomorrow. Vladimir demands that the boy be sure to
remember that he saw him. Vladimir yells, "You're sure you saw me, you
won't come and tell me to-morrow that you never saw me!"
The two bums decide to leave but cannot go far since they
need to wait for Godot. They look at the tree and contemplate hanging
themselves. Estragon takes off his belt but it breaks when they pull on it. His
trousers fall down. Vladimir says that they will hang themselves tomorrow
unless Godot comes to save them. He tells Estragon to put on his trousers. They
decide to leave but again do not move.
Analysis of the Play
Although very existentialist in its characterizations,
Waiting for Godot is primarily about hope. The play revolves around Vladimir
and Estragon and their pitiful wait for hope to arrive. At various times during
the play, hope is constructed as a form of salvation, in the personages of
Pozzo and Lucky, or even as death. The subject of the play quickly becomes an
example of how to pass the time in a situation which offers no hope. Thus the
theme of the play is set by the beginning:
Estragon: Nothing to
be done.
Vladimir: I'm
beginning to come round to that opinion.
Although the phrase is used in connection to Estragon's boots
here, it is also later used by Vladimir with respect to his hat. Essentially it
describes the hopelessness of their lives.
A direct result of this hopelessness is the daily struggle to
pass the time. Thus, most of the play is dedicated to devising games which will
help them pass the time. This mutual desire also addresses the question of why
they stay together. Both Vladimir and Estragon admit to being happier when
apart. One of the main reasons that they continue their relationship is that
they need one another to pass the time. After Pozzo and Lucky leave for the
first time they comment:
V:
That passed the time.
E:
It would have passed in any case.
And
later when Estragon finds his boots again:
V:
What about trying them.
E:
I've tried everything.
V:
No, I mean the boots.
E:
Would that be a good thing?
V:
It'd pass the time. I assure you, it'd be an occupation.
Since passing the time is their mutual occupation, Estragon
struggles to find games to help them accomplish their goal. Thus they engage in
insulting one another and in asking each other questions.
The difficulty for Beckett of keeping a dialogue running for
so long is overcome by making his characters forget everything. Estragon cannot
remember anything past what was said immediately prior to his lines. Vladimir,
although possessing a better memory, distrusts what he remembers. And since
Vladimir cannot rely on Estragon to remind him of things, he too exists in a
state of forgetfulness.
Another second reason for why they are together arises from
the existentialism of their forgetfulness. Since Estragon cannot remember
anything, he needs Vladimir to tell him his history. It is as if Vladimir is
establishing Estragon's identity by remembering for him. Estragon also serves
as a reminder for Vladimir of all the things they have done together. Thus both
men serve to remind the other man of his very existence. This is necessary
since no one else in the play ever remembers them:
Vladimir: We met
yesterday. (Silence) Do you not remember?
Pozzo: I don't
remember having met anyone yesterday. But to-morrow I won't remember having met
anyone to-day. So don't count on me to enlighten you.
Later on the same thing happens with the boy who claims to
have never seen them before. This lack of reassurance about their very
existence makes it all the more necessary that they remember each other.
Estragon and Vladimir are not only talking to pass the time,
but also to avoid the voices that arise out of the silence. Beckett's heroes in
other works are also constantly assailed by voices which arise out of the
silence, so this is a continuation of a theme the author uses frequently:
E:
In the meantime let's try and converse calmly, since we're incapable of keeping
silent.
V:
You're right, we're inexhaustible.
E:
It's so we won't think.
V:
We have that excuse.
E:
It's so we won't hear.
V:
We have our reasons.
E:
All the dead voices.
V:
They make a noise like wings.
E:
Like leaves.
V:
Like sand.
E:
Like leaves.
Silence.
V:
They all speak at once.
E:
Each one to itself.
Silence.
V:
Rather they whisper
E:
They rustle.
V:
They murmur.
E:
The rustle.
Silence.
V:
What do they say?
E:
They talk about their lives.
V:
To have lived is not enough for them.
E:
They have to talk about it.
V:
To be dead is not enough for them.
E:
It is not sufficient.
Silence.
V:
They make a noise like feathers.
E:
Like leaves.
V:
Like ashes.
E:
Like leaves.
Long
silence.
V:
Say something!
One of the questions which must be answered is why the bums
are suffering in the first place. This can only be answered through the concept
of original sin. To be born is to be a sinner, and thus man is condemned to
suffer. The only way to escape the suffering is to repent or to die. Thus
Vladimir recalls the thieves crucified with Christ in the first act:
V:
One of the thieves was saved. It's a reasonable percentage. (Pause.) Gogo.
E:
What?
V:
Suppose we repented.
E:
Repented what?
V:
Oh . . . (He reflects.) We wouldn't have to go into the details.
E:
Our being born?
Failing to repent, they sit and wait for Godot to come and
save them. In the meantime they contemplate suicide as another way of escaping
their hopelessness. Estragon wants them to hang themselves from the tree, but
both he and Vladimir find it would be too risky. This apathy, which is a result
of their age, leads them to remember a time when Estragon almost succeeded in
killing himself:
E:
Do you remember the day I threw myself into the Rhone?
V:
We were grape harvesting.
E:
You fished me out.
V:
That's all dead and buried.
E:
My clothes dried in the sun.
V:
There's no good harking back on that. Come on.
Beckett is believed to have said that the name Godot comes
from the French "godillot" meaning a military boot. Beckett fought in
the war and so spending long periods of time waiting for messages to arrive
would have been commonplace for him. The more common interpretation that it
might mean "God" is almost certainly wrong. Beckett apparently stated
that if he had meant "God," he would have written "God".
The concept of the passage of time leads to a general irony.
Each minute spent waiting brings death one step closer to the characters and
makes the arrival of Godot less likely. The passage of time is evidenced by the
tree which has grown leaves, possibly indicating a change of seasons. Pozzo and
Lucky are also transformed by time since Pozzo goes blind and Lucky mute.
There are numerous
interpretation of Waiting for Godot and a few are described here:
Religious interpretations posit Vladimir and Estragon as
humanity waiting for the elusive return of a savior. An extension of this makes
Pozzo into the Pope and Lucky into the faithful. The faithful are then viewed
as a cipher of God cut short by human intolerance. The twisted tree can
alternatively represent either the tree of death, the tree of life, the tree of
Judas or the tree of knowledge.
Political interpretations also abound. Some reviewers hold
that the relationship between Pozzo and Lucky is that of a capitalist to his
labor. This Marxist interpretation is understandable given that in the second
act Pozzo is blind to what is happening around him and Lucky is mute to protest
his treatment. The play has also been understood as an allegory for Franco-German
relations.
An interesting interpretation argues that Lucky receives his
name because he is lucky in the context of the play. Since most of the play is
spent trying to find things to do to pass the time, Lucky is lucky because his
actions are determined absolutely by Pozzo. Pozzo on the other hand is unlucky
because he not only needs to pass his own time but must find things for Lucky
to do.
What do you think is
the most effective way that Beckett presents repetition in Waiting for Godot?
If the play is meant as a representative sample of what happens every night in
the lives of Vladimir and Estragon, why does Beckett choose to present two acts
instead of three, or one?
The presentation of essentially the same action twice in the
two acts is the most important form of repetition in the play. More than one
act is necessary to show the repetition of actions in the play, but this does
not explain why Beckett chooses to use two acts instead of more than two. The
choice of two acts may be somehow related to the use of pairs of characters,
emphasizing the importance of characters and actions that occur in twos.
Describe the
relationship between Vladimir and Estragon. Why do you think they stay
together, despite their frequent suggestions of parting?
Some critics have suggested that Vladimir and Estragon remain
together because of their complementary personalities, arguing that each
fulfills the qualities that the other lacks, rendering them dependent on each
other. Think about what evidence there is in the play for this type of
interpretation.