Dearest Nuncles -
We've been workshopping Shakespearean 'stuff' for a couple of months now, developing our understanding of our characters, last evening - 19th Sep - saw our first 'official' lines and movement rehearsal. For me this felt very much as though the phoney war is over and Jerry has unexpectedly marched into France! I don't know whether to be relieved or fearful that the waiting's over. The curtain's up on 18th October and the rehearsal schedule from this point on is reassuringly punishing so if anyone wishes to luxuriate in the artistic suffering of others now's your time to sit back and smile.
I've grasped from our directorial team that this production of Lear doth embrace the unexpected - unfortunately for me the lines are somewhat less easy to grasp (if I could 'do' one of those text-speak sad faces I would at this point). I'm sure it will all fall into place before too long. I'm sure it will all fall into place before too long. I'm sure it will all fall into place before too long. etc etc ad infinitum. Cry a bit.
So was he mad, bad or both? If Cordelia had simply played his game would this have been a happy tale of a progressive and equal opportunities minded king? As a Lear novice I've not yet come to a conclusion but he certainly seems a tricky chap to like on the face of his behaviour toward me - this comes from a man who is supposed to love this King; the Earl of Kent is a faithful servant of Lear, Lear's reaction to Kent's attempt at mediation in the opening scene is not calculated, by the King, to extend their good relationship, quite the opposite in fact. I really don't know what I see in him........
Kent
Incidentally, I was thinking about the mad/bad/dangerously-both question the other night, and suddenly I was reminded of a story one of my friends once told me about his little brother one Christmas. He was six or seven at the time, I think, and he got so overwhelmed and excited by the Joy of Giving that after he'd given away all his real presents he started giving away his own favourite toys in a positive orgy of childish generosity... and then threw a terrible tantrum a few hours later when one of the recipients selfishly refused to give his present back, on the grounds that it was, after all, a present. (It's kind of sweet, in a way.)
ReplyDeleteI'm not saying this is exactly what Lear is doing - but maybe there's an element of unrealistic, rather childish generosity. He's planned this lovely surprise for his daughters, he's looking forward to seeing their happy little faces - and then Cordelia can't even play along with him! No wonder he takes away her dowry, humiliates her publicly, disowns her, tells her he wishes she'd never been born, rages at and then banishes his oldest friend, and - what do you mean, overreacting?
Bridget (the Fool, no jokes please). (Unless they're *really* good and/or about coxcombs, which are inherently funny.)