Henry VI, Part 1

  “Speak on, but be not over-tedious.”

     Henry Vi, Part 1 is a noisy, overt celebration of English patriotism and their moral superiority over the French.  It was a huge hit, but like most box office blockbusters it has not aged well. 

     All three parts of the Henry VI plays were written in the space of a year.  As in Parts 2 and 3, Shakespeare used the same history sources and familiar characters in this prequel.  He also worked on structural techniques, created “historical” events, and continued to experiment with character development.  He even borrowed from his own earlier plays.  

      Henry VI, Part 1 is not a good play.  Most of the dialogue reverts to the declamations of Part 2 and most of the characters are as static as they were in Parts 2 and 3. If it didn’t have Shakespeare’s name attached to it, the play would be the kind of thing graduate students have to slog through on their way to something more interesting.  But in charting Shakespeare’s early career, it remains worth studying.

     By the time he starting writing the chronicle plays, Shakespeare possessed a keen understanding of story telling in the five act format:  Exposition, Rising Action, Climax, Falling Action, Denouement.  In the first two scenes of Henry VI, Part 1, he introduces an interesting symmetrical pattern. 

     Act I, Scene i opens at the funeral of Henry V.  There are three noble, three generals, and three messengers.   Bedford speaks first, followed by Gloucester, Exeter, and Winchester.  After three messages of loss, revolt, and Talbot’s capture, the scene ends with the four men speaking and exiting in the opposite order.   An admirably balanced piece of writing, it succeeds in establishing the problems facing the English, but fails in establishing characters or motivation.  It’s like watching carved figures circling the works of an intricate clock.

      Towards the end of Scene ii, Shakespeare repeats the device, but on a smaller scale and with French characters. Facing losses of his own, the Dauphin speaks, followed by Reinier and Alanson. The Bastard of Orleans arrives with a message: the French have an answer to Talbot and her name is Joan Pucelle.  The scene ends with remarks from Alanson, Reinier, and the Dauphin.   Again, the French dilemma is made clear and the solution made clearer by the introduction of Joan.  

     Joan Pucelle and Lord Talbot are the central characters in the play and it’s significant that neither is noble by birth.  In John Talbot, Shakespeare tries to create a hero for the common Englishman.  A gentleman by birth, but noble in thought and action, Talbot’s name alone is enough to chase the enemy away.  He is old school chivalrous, a fierce warrior with a clear sense of right and wrong.  As demonstrated when he meets the Countess of Auvergne, he possesses the humility to credit his army and the good manners not to take advantage of the scheming Countess.  Unlike the nobles, he is a man of action who puts his country before himself.

     His decline is the decline of England’s honor and Shakespeare dedicates most of the fourth act to showing that English and French treachery are responsible.  Abandoned by York and Somerset, betrayed by Burgundy and trapped by the Dauphin, Talbot faces his doom.

     Remember the Father/Son-Son/Father scene from Henry VI, Part 3?  Shakespeare tries to re-enact the emotional impact of that scene by having Talbot and his son die together as heroes

“Come, come, and lay him in his father’s arms;

My spirit can no longer bear these harms.

Soldiers, adieu!  I have what I would have,

Now my old arms are young John Talbot’s grave.”

     This death scene was enormously popular in 1592, but it was pure pathos then and pure pathos now, tugging at the heartstrings with one hand, while straight-arming the brain with the other.  Firstly, for all of his heroic qualities, Lord Talbot is not fully enough formed as a character to  merit the kind of emotional involvement need to make the scene work. Secondly, John Talbot arrives so late in the play that no involvement is possible (it doesn’t help that we quickly learn that young John refused to fight the woman who gave his father all he could handle.)  Thirdly, it lacks context.  Directly contrasted against Henry’s pastoral dream, the scene in Part 3 brings home the horrors of war.  In Part 1, the audience saw this coming four scenes ago.  Lastly, it’s not very well written.  At this point of his career, Shakespeare’s command of structure far exceeds his command of language.

     Joan Pucelle’s fate is even more disappointing.  So much so, some scholars believe some one else wrote her final scenes.  The most interesting character in the play, she deserves better.  Heaven sent to the French, condemned to Hell by the English, Shakespeare crafts her character with solid earthiness.  If Talbot is old school chivalry, Joan is new school mischief.  A mere shepherdess, chosen by the Virgin Mary to push the English out of France, she does so with as much wit as witchcraft.  Men don’t fool her.  She conquers them with her sword, her tactics, and her skills as an orator.  That she can persuade Burgundy to abandon his allegiance to Talbot and immediately react with the aside:

“Done like a Frenchman: turn and turn again!”

makes her more compelling and believable than most of the men and all of the women in any of Shakespeare first three plays.  Even after being captured, she remains feisty, insulting York and sarcastically asking permission to curse some more.

     So why does Joan’s character fall apart so miserably at the end?  There are reasons:

  The historical events of Joan’s trial didn’t fit with the aims of this play.

It was Act V and, however knotty, loose ends had to be tied. 

She was French.

     Whatever his reasons, he failed Joan as a character and the audience.  It feels like a rush job.

Learning Points:

Invented Scenes:  Eventually, Shakespeare must have felt handcuffed by history.  By inventing scenes such as the meeting between Talbot and the Countess and the plucking of roses among the supporters of York and Somerset, Shakespeare moves from exposition to demonstration, from what to who and why.  Facts and data can be interesting but static.  They don’t move the story, they don’t move the characters, and they don’t engage the audience.  The stringing together of episodes is coming to an end. Soon, events in one scene will cause the events of the next. 

Imagery: There’s much less reliance on religion, myths, and the animal kingdom.  Instead, Shakespeare creates images that are more reality based  and more accessible.  When the English fight, “(t)heir arms are set, like clocks, still to strike on.”  Talbot’s “thoughts are whirled like a potter’s wheel.”  Note, too, that Shakespeare chose “whirled,” instead of “spun.”  The requirements of iambic pentameter forced Shakespeare to search beyond the first verb that came to mind.  The same should apply to prose writing as well.  As Mark Twain said, “the difference between the almost right word & the right word is... the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.”  And verbs are your most important words.

Dialogue: While declaiming among the nobles continues, Shakespeare starts to pare things down.  When Suffolk falls for Margaret, his befuddled asides are believable and funny.  Shakespeare possibly witnessed such a scene in a local tavern.  The same befuddled conversation probably takes in a bar or tavern every night of the week to this day. Likewise, the rhyming couplets between Lord Talbot and his son convey an intimacy between them.  At first.  Dragging the conversation through the battle scene over-plays the point.  Like gratuitous violence, gratuitous pathos is bad for everybody.

Next: Richard III