What I'm Reading At The Moment

AT THE MOMENT I AM READING...BEOWULF (AS TRANSLATED BY SEAMUS HEANEY)

Friday 14 August 2015

The Life and Death of King John

The Life and Death of King John Play Review 





King John, one of Shakespeare's less well known works, is essentially a play about power. Indeed, the thirst for power is something that rather dominates the whole proceedings and determines the paths of the various control-hungry, egotistical characters. One of the starkest examples of this vain, power-thirsty mind-set comes when Lewis, the son of the King of France, notes his wonder at seeing 'the shadow of [himself] formed' in the eye of his bride-to-be, Blanche of Castile. Here the main attraction on his part comes through how his ego is expanded through the eyes of a subservient woman. Having watched a production of the play, the question of whether the women in the play are subservient and essentially weak, finding their outspoken and seemingly strong appearance in action as being rather superficial, was one that I chose to focus on, hoping that with close textual analysis some sort of conclusion could be reached...

From the outset it is clear that any sense of strength among the women in the play, in the eyes of their male counterparts, is strongly refuted. The women are frequently hushed in political discussions, as exemplified by King John's remark to his mother Queen Elinor, 'silence, good mother', their opinions being viewed as too emotionally charged and thus of little value. Equally the fact that Richard, the Bastard, is willing to claim his bastardy, as a result destroying any sense of his mother's pride or reputation, reflects how women are somewhat viewed as pawns in the greater game of diplomacy and politics, played exclusively by men. This strain is most evidently seen in how Blanche of Castile is given by her uncle to Lewis, the Dauphin, along with 'five [French] provinces', in effect her being part of the bounty, a possession to be exchanged for political advancement. However, even though the men seem to deny any strength or importance on the parts of their mothers and wives, behind the shadows, every powerful man in the play has some influential women whispering in his ear, having a firm grip with the clogs of power. For instance, Queen Elinor is described as 'an ate, stirring [her son] to blood and strife', the deistic metaphor (an ate being a Greek goddess of discord and revenge) reflecting the depth of her female influence. Equally upon hearing of his mother's death, King John's initial reaction is rather telling. He says:

'mother dead? How wildly then walks my estate in France?'

Here, at last in death, he accepts the obvious, his mother's strong political influence and strength, something that many of the male characters seek to undermine through outlining the ridiculous and nonsensical nature of the women, but which cannot be denied at this point. It is also notable that rather than referring to his initial emotional loss, he looks to political matters, again reinforcing this sense of strength behind the shadows. Thus I would say that the submissive Blanche of Castile is an exception, the other two principle women, Queen Elinor and Lady Constance, being essentially strong characters. Her public submission and weakness contrasts greatly to their overbearing influence and involvement. Thus it is a true shame that this strength is undermined and rather overshadowed by the petty squabbles that occur between the female characters throughout the play's first half. The frequent use of parallel structures between Queen Elinor and Lady Constance helps to illuminate the sense of futility in their squabbles, the chiasmus of 'O, fair return of banished majesty!' and 'O, foul revolt of French inconsistency' adding a rather mocking tone to the works, making the two rather irritable. Indeed the Duke of Austria's demand that 'women and fools, break off [their] conference' is also rather revealing, tying those two groups intrinsically together, women being fools hence. However, given the context of the times, summed up by Lady Constance's sighing that the ground will be '[her] throne' and the frequent appearance of the stage direction 'she may kneel here', it is understandable that this 'flinging out your guts and all' approach to getting a point passed through and to at least be listened to, was in fact necessary and thus the feminist's tutting of these squabbles undermining the cause may somewhat be hushed. Thus to conclude, the women in the play, bar the subservient Blanche of Castile, are essentially strong, acting as the main force for the rising and falling from power of the men they act behind, with whom their fates are intrinsically bound (as seen in Lady Constance's dying soon after hearing of the kidnapping of her dear Arthur). Although this is somewhat undermined by their petty, annoying squabbles that, to the audience watching the play, might come to define them, with a contextual understanding one comes to be slightly less critical of their actions, still sticking by the label of strength.

I was also particularly struck by the power of two other forces in the play, that of the Church and the influence of goodness. To start with, the power of the Catholic Church, which is itself embodied by the character of Cardinal Pandulph, is best summed up by Lewis the Dauphin's remark that 'if [the church says] ay, the king will not say no' and indeed it is rather notable how the corrupt, politically-involved organisation is perhaps the most power hungry of them all. For example, Cardinal Pandulph himself tells the Dauphin 'how green you are, and fresh in this old world!', the lexical chain of spring-time imagery, a time of youth, new-birth and innocence, helps to suggest the 'black heart' of the Church, being fully corrupt and well-told in the world of power and influence. Although there are many attempts to ignore the voice of the Church throughout the play, most notably by the titular character, the ultimate fact that he is 'poisoned by a monk', infers that the Church will always have the last laugh, its iron hold on matters being reinforced. Perhaps the only truly good and innocent character in the play is Arthur, Lady Constance's son and in her opinion the rightful heir to the English throne, and the power of his goodness is exemplified in what, at the times of first showing, was often the most popular and moving scene of the whole play. At the hands of his executioner, Hubert, Arthur's goodness ends up getting the better of the man's conscience, Hubert soliloquizing how 'if [he talks] to him, with his innocent prate he will awaken [his] mercy which lies dead', and through the arousal of guilt and pity that Arthur helps to create he manages to escape with his life, for the time being. Furthermore, upon hearing of Arthur's untimely death Hubert makes the remark that '[his] date of life [is] out for [Arthur's] sweet life's loss', the l alliteration and sibilant sounds of the sentence helping to further evoke a deep sense of sadness and the repetition of the word 'life', suggesting that Arthur's goodness has helped to tie the young boy to himself in an unbreakable manner. Thus perhaps somewhat amusingly, the greatest means to gain influence in a play plagued with corruptness, greed and violence is simply to be good.

In terms of general comments about the play, I found most of the characters to be incredibly, frustratingly two-dimensional, united in their blatant thirst for power, or in Arthur's case an unblemished, unchallenged innocence. One of the main exceptions to this general rule seemed to be Richard, the Bastard, who in many ways acts as a precursor to Iago (of Shakespeare's more famous play Othello). Despite accepting the status quo of the times, in terms of the continual struggle for self betterment on the ladder of power, he openly mocks the norm with much wit and intelligence, giving a rather refreshing point of view. Critic A W Schlegel describes the Bastard's role in the play as being to '[ridicule] the secret springs of politics, without disapproving of them, for he owns that he is endeavoring to make his fortune by similar means, and wishes rather to belong to the deceivers than the deceived, for in his view of the world their is no other choice'. Indeed despite mocking 'that smooth-faced gentleman, tickling commodity', portraying self-interest as a deceitful demon almost, and noting how this is a 'mad world' made up of 'mad kings', he nonetheless accepts the state of matters stating that 'gain [will] be [his] lord, for [he] will worship [it]'. I rather felt that in the absence of the Bastard the play would fall into disrepute and I dare say be rather dull, repetitive and boring to the audience. Equally, another slight criticism would be the essential influence on political matters, rather than emotional ones (an ill fruit of this being the abundance of transparent character-types). Furthermore, for one hoping to ingratiate their historical knowledge with such a play, I warn them to stay away. The play makes no mention of the Magna Carta or any other essential events that occurred during the time period, this being explained by Jonathan Bate as a means to prevent the titular character from appearing as a 'baddie' from the offset, allowing the audience to look at him in a more endearing light, without the sense of his mass unpopularity that predominated his rule.

Thus, to conclude, King John, was an interesting way to start my independent exploration of the world of Shakespeare - though I must admit that the in depth manner of school teaching is somewhat preferable with such an artist as Shakespeare (to get any sense of worthwhile meaning I had to cut down what I was looking for in the play from the offset) - and although by no means the best of his plays, its relative obscurity is well understood having been read and watched, I felt that many interesting comments were made about the role of women in politics, the unquenchable flame of power (Lewis the Dauphin noting how 'now 'tis far too huge to be blown out', once one has a whiff of power there's no going back) and the role of the church along with other themes such as legitimacy which upon a second look I will be sure to look into with more detail. Essentially I would say that any Shakespeare play is worth reading, even those lower down on the scheme of greatness can teach important lessons even in today's society.

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