“Write until your ink is dry” Act III, Scene 2
Shakespeare’s first comedy is a messy, scattershot parody of romantic love. As in the early history plays, it features themes and motifs he will develop more fully in his later works. He also encounters problems that afflict almost all new humor writers, opting for gags over story development and types over characters. Its theme of inconstancy is at the core of the play’s undoing and its most notable element is a notoriously awful fifth act.
Shakespeare lets the audience in on the parody by giving most of the characters names that telegraph their natures: Proteus (a name Henry hurls as an insult at Richard at the end of Henry VI Part 3) is a shape-shifting lout, his heart changing direction on the winds of whim. Valentine’s name is obvious, as Valentine’s Day had been around for at least 200 years and was mentioned in a poem by Chaucer. Julia, of Latin origin, means the daughter of Jove, the divine witness to oaths; and Sylvia is the woods. Speed is named for his wit and Launce is suspiciously similar to Launcelot, with his “a lot” cut off. Lucetta is a diminutive form of Lucia, which means light. She is the Patron Saint of the blind. Even Eglamour, portrayed as a coward in the forrest, is named after the title character from “Sir Eglamour of Artois,” a 14th Century poem known in Shakespeare’s time (SPOILER ALERT: the poem is about two lovers separated by a father who disapproves of the union.)
The source of the play is “Diana Enamorada,” a prose poem by Jorge deMontamayor, the style of dialog from John Lyly, but the spirit of the play is from Ovid’s “Art of Love,” a bawdy How-To guide, which includes the following pertinent bit of advice:
“Ah me, it’s not safe to praise your love to a friend:
if he believes your praise, he’ll steal her himself.”
Valentine and Proteus are best friends forced to separate when Valentine is sent to the emperor's court in Milan to be educated in the ways of a gentlemen. Proteus stays behind because he wants to be near his true love, Julia. They talk about love, but taken little action and when they do take action it fails. Proteus sends his love letter via Speed, but it goes to Lucetta instead. Valentine’s plan to elope with Sylvia is ruined by Proteus. Julia’s plan to reunite with Proteus ends in heartbreak. Everything Proteus does to woo Sylvia, she slaps away with increasing vigor.
Once established, Shakespeare shades his characters according to the needs of the scene instead of the other way around. Consequently, the audience has no reason to care about the two male leads. Proteus is especially unlikable. He claims to be in love with Julia and writes a love letter to her. Yet, before he receives a reply, he gets his uncle to ask his father about sending him to be with Valentine at the emperor's court. Having betrayed Julia, he then betrays Valentine, Thurio, and ultimately love itself when he attempts to rape Sylvia. He’s a busy guy.
You can always tell what interests Shakespeare and, right now, it’s words. As exacting a discipline as mastering Latin was, playing with English words and their multiple meanings must have been a giddy liberation for him. Puns and homonyms tumble and swirl throughout the play, Consonance and assonance multiply to create musical elements to the lines. It’s funny and entertaining, but does nothing to advance the plot or inform the audience about the characters.
And that’s the problem. Shakespeare spends too much time stocking the scenes with laughs and too little trying to develop character. The early scenes with Julia and Lucetta are charming, but then bog down with elongated gags about music and cod pieces. Speed’s wit and Launce’s monologues are genuinely funny, but both could be edited out of the play without interrupting the story. Romantic love always has been and always will be ripe for parody. Bt at this point in his career, Shakespeare doesn’t know how to handle it. HIs ideas, while worthy, are unfocussed and unfinished. Proteus doesn't know the difference between love and lust, an affliction common to men of all ages. Shakespeare doesn’t yet know how to convey it.
Proteus’ “conversion” at the end of the plot is so totally unsatisfactory because Shakespeare can’t make his conversion believable. There’s no depth of character for him, or the audience, to fall back on. Given his behavior throughout the play, we can understandably wonder if Proteus spends part of the wedding feast checking out the waitresses. But, then, Shakespeare has done this before. He has a habit, toward the end of his early plays, of abrupt and unexplained changes in his characters (Joan Purcelle in Act V of Henry VI, Part 3 and Richard’s dream scene in Richard III.) He has an idea of where they need to go, but can’t deliver them safely.
Learning Points
Dying Is Easy, Comedy Is Hard: What’s the difference between parody and satire? You can blame satire for the jokes that don’t work. Humor writing is an extraordinarily delicate and difficult operation. It’s one thing to get laughs among friends, quite another to commit yourself on paper to strangers. An old rule states that the first idea for a joke is one that anyone can come up with. The second idea is one that somebody else already came up with. The third idea is yours. Go with the third idea.
All’s Well That Ends... Huh? What?! Scholars have wrestled and lost with the ending of “Two Gentlemen of Verona,” for centuries. They offer excuses from “some one else wrote it,” to “modern audiences don’t get it.” Harold Bloom suggests that Sylvia “ought to whack Valentine with the nearest chunk of wood.” But Proteus’ conversion and Valentine’s Christian act of forgiveness aren’t the only problems at the end of the play. Thurio claims her, then gives her back. This outrages the Emperor, who hands her over to Valentine. In a single scene, Sylvia is an object of lust, of property, and ultimately of love. Ah romance! (Shhhh! That’s one of the points Shakespeare fails to make clear.) A bad ending ruins everything that precedes it. If you find yourself stuck at the end of a piece, the solution often can be found by properly editing a previous section. If that means eliminating a line or a scene you’re proud of, too bad. Think of the audience, not yourself.
Sometimes, the Best Ideas Are the Ones You Can’t Handle Yet: “The Two Gentlemen of Verona” is Shakespeare’s weakest play, but there are ideas that -- like the History Plays--he will return to and develop to greater effect. For instance, Launce’s list of his maid’s virtues and vices are funny. A couple of years later, when he writes Sonnet 130, Shakespeare lifts the idea to art. Never discard an idea. Keep them in a file and visit them from time to time. If it’s good enough for Shakespeare (and Mark Twain and John Lennon) it’s good enough for you.
Links:
No comments:
Post a Comment