Teaching Literature - The Paradigm of Extremes: The Role of Women in Shakespeare's Plays

Lady Macbeth is considered nearly sinister in comparison with her husband, Macbeth, a perception that is supported by such assertions as "How tender tis to love the babe that milks me;/ I would, while it was smiling in my face/ Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums/ and dashed the brains out, had I so sworn as you/ have to do this" from the lips of her character.

In contrast to Lady Macbeth's hard insistence that Macbeth pursue whatever means necessary to achieve power is Macbeth's self-doubting statement of "each corporal agent to this terrible feat./ Away and mock the time with fairest show. False face must hide what the false heart doth know" as he is considering the grave deed he and Lady Macbeth have connived to commit, indicating his awareness of the negative consequences he is likely suffer, even if unspecific.

Just as the actions of characters illustrate motives better than any soliloquy, so do the actions of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth sustain the words that they speak. In keeping with the boldness of her character, it is Lady Macbeth who encourages the disregard of civil protocol in the treatment of her guests, and it is she that drugs those guests. Further, had Duncan not so resembled Lady Macbeth's father, she, of her own confession would have performed the assassination herself. In contrast to these actions are those of Macbeth who cannot utter the word "Amen" to close in a prayer, nor is he able to plant the daggers he carried away from the murder he committed once he had left the room of his victims. Indeed, it is Lady Macbeth who plants the daggers after chastising Macbeth with "Infirm of purpose!/ Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead/ are but as pictures." (2.2, 58-60)

Critics, such as Sarah Siddon, have expressed pardon of Lady Macbeth's words and behavior by emphasizing that it is ambition that drives Lady Macbeth. Siddons believes Lady Macbeth's mention of a nursing child "in the midst of her dreadful language, persuades one unequivocally that she has really felt maternal yearning of a mother towards her babe." (Thompson; Roberts, p. 56) Siddons further points out that "it is only in soliloquy that she (Lady Macbeth) invokes the powers of hell to unsex her."

The critic M. Leigh-Noel, in her study of Lady Macbeth, offers further defense by considering Lady Macbeth's circumstance of socio-economic position and history, as well as on her own assertion that lady Macbeth had been a mother (Thompson; Roberts, p. 174). Noel suggests that, in the age that "Macbeth" was written "human life was by no means as sacred as it is now; and that violence was the common resort of both mean and noble in their efforts to gain the desires of their souls." Noel places emphasis on Lady Macbeth being the "solitary inmate" of Macbeth's castle, believing she was "cheered only by occasional and fitful visits from her husband -" Noel further suggests that Lady Macbeth had to "live only on the remembrance of the bittersweet joy of maternity, to wake up and miss the magnetic pressure of infant fingers " consequently causing Lady Macbeth to cling "more tenaciously to her husband." (Thompson; Roberts, p. 174). Combined, Noel believes, these circumstances support the theory that Lady Macbeth paid "a terrible price... to gratify her husband's ambition." That while " Macbeth had the stronger wishes, she (Lady Macbeth) had the stronger will" (Thompson; Roberts, p. 175) and since it is will that prevails over wishes, Lady Macbeth's share of the burden in her conspiracy with her husband outweighed that of Macbeth's. 

Noel's arguments validly challenges many common perceptions of Lady Macbeth and rightfully points to isolation and suffering as likely contributors to Lady Macbeth's loss of mental capacity. But it is the shocking threat Lady Macbeth made regarding dashing the brains of her nursing child that the critic France Anne Kemble believes is "no mere figure of speech" continues to cast Lady Macbeth as a character who is much worse that her male counterpart.

The roles of Hermione and Leontes in "The Winter's Tale" present a contrast to that of the Macbeths and illustrate a model wherein the woman's character is perceivably superior to that of the male. During the first acts, Hermione's relatively calm self-assurance becomes quickly more obvious despite the escalation of Leontes' jealous emotions, of which Hermione, whose intent was to be as gracious hostess to Polixenes, was unaware of instigating. And while it was Leontes who first requested Hermione to speak in persuasive tone and manner to Polixenes, and Leontes who encouraged Hermione to continue, and despite Hermione's reassurance of her love for Leontes ["I love thee not a jar o' th' clock behind/ What a lady she her lord" (1.2, 42-43)], it is Hermione's steadfastness of belief that Leonte's will come to his senses that becomes most obvious. While the situation is unbelievable to Hermione, she yet blames it on "some ill planet" and tells herself to be patient. Further, her lamentation over having "That honorable grief lodged here which here burns/ worse than tears drown" (2.1, 111-113) belies the capacity for her depth of emotion while she yet resists tears when Leontes orders her imprisonment. Hermoine's parting words "This action I go on/ is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord./ I never wished to see you sorry; now/ I trust I shall (2.1, 122-125) are memorable not only because they reveal the level of acceptance and humility possessed by Hermione in the face of Leonte's relative cruelty, but also for the poignant prediction she asserts that further reveals confidence in her own goodness. 

Though the character of Hermione "is open to criticism on one point that when she secludes herself from the world for sixteen years, during which time she is mourned as dead by her repentant husband, and is not won to relent from her resolve by his sorrow, his remorse, his constancy to her memory; such conduct... is unfeeling as it is inconceivable in a virtuous and tender woman. (Thompson; Roberts p. 76) she is of the exactly the kind of female character who could and would have acted in this manner, for in such a mind as hers, the sense of a cruel injury, inflicted by one she had loved and trusted, without awakening any violent anger or any desire of vengeance, would sink deep... in a mind like Hermione's, where the strength of feeling is founded in the power of thought, there are but to influences which predominate over will, - time and religion... to study forgiveness and wait the fulfillment of the oracle which had promised the termination of her sorrows. Thus a premature reconciliation would have been painfully inconsistent with the character (Thompson; Roberts, p.76-77) further suggesting Hermione's comparatively superior moral position as compared with her husband, Leontes.

These two examples clearly support the idea that, in Shakespeare's plays anyway, women are often portrayed as much better or much worse than men, as Bruyere  quote suggests. Perhaps it comes from the male tenancy to project  characteristics onto women, or perhaps it is only to add drama. Or  perhaps, as Laura Stubbs has suggested, it is a manifestation of  Shakespeare's playwriting skills, for "If you study the plots of the  plays, you must notice that the catastrophe is invariably caused by the  fault or folly of a man; the redemption, if there be any, by the wisdom  or virtue of a woman. (Shakespeare) represents (women) as infallibly  faithful and wise counselors, strong always to sanctify even when they  cannot save... (Thompson; Roberts, p.  247) which gives the impression  that though interaction between opposite genders with opposing  characteristics accelerates plot and adds drama, Shakespeare's tenancy  is to do so in favor of women, for even when they are portrayed as  "worse" than men, as in the case with Lady Macbeth, they are still  stronger and able to carry greater burdens with greater success for  longer periods of time than the male characters found in these plays.

REFERENCES:

BEVINGTON, David (Ed.). The Necessary Shakespeare. 2. ed.  New York: Pearson Longman, 2005.

GRADY, Hugh (Ed.)  Shakespeare and Modernity. New York: Routledge Taylor and Francis Group, 2000.

THOMPSON, Ann; SASHA, Roberts (Eds.). Women reading Shakespeare, 1660-1900. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1997.

(Source: helium.com)

Teaching Literature - Elizabethan Women

Even though there was an unmarried woman on the throne in Elizabethan England, the roles of women in society were very limited. The Elizabethans had very clear expectations of men and women, and in general men were expected to be the breadwinners and women to be housewives and mothers. On average, a woman gave birth to a child every two years, but as a lot of babies and children died from sickness, families were not always large. Childbearing was considered a great honor to women, as children were seen as blessings from God, and Tudor women took great pride in being mothers.

Elizabethan society was patriarchal, meaning that men were considered to be the leaders and women their inferiors. Women were regarded as "the weaker sex", not just in terms of physical strength, but emotionally too. It was believed that women always needed someone to look after them. If they were married, their husband was expected to look after them. If they were single, then their father, brother or another male relative was expected to take care of them.

Many women in this period were highly educated, like the Queen herself, Mildred Cecil (wife of William Cecil) and Mary Herbert, Countess of Pembroke. Women were not allowed to go to school or to university, but they could be educated at home by private tutors. Elizabeth was tutored by the famous Elizabethan scholar Roger Ascham.

Women were not allowed to enter the professions i.e law, medicine, politics, but they could work in domestic service as cooks, maids etc, and a female painter, Levina Teerlinc, was employed by Henry VIII and later by Mary and Elizabeth respectively. Women were also allowed to write works of literature, providing the subject was suitable for women: mainly translations or religious works. Women were not allowed to act on the public stage or write for the public stage. Acting was considered dishonorable for women and women did not appear on the stage in England until the seventeenth century. In Shakespeare's plays, the roles of women were often played by young boys.

Women, regardless of social position, were not allowed to vote (however, only men of a certain social position were allowed to vote). Neither could women inherit their father's titles. All titles would pass from father to son or brother to brother, depending on the circumstances. The only exception was, of course, the crown. The crown could pass to a daughter, and that daughter would be invested with all the power and Majesty of any king. This allowed Mary, and then Elizabeth, to reign. In some cases women could not inherit estates, but women could be heiresses to property, and some women, especially if they were the only child of a great noble man, could be very affluent heiresses indeed. Robert Dudley's first wife, Amy Robsart, was Sir John Robsart's only child, and inherited two estates he owned in Norfolk. It was not always clear what happened to these estates when the woman married i.e. whether the estates became the property of her husband or not.

The laws of inheritance meant that fathers were anxious to have a son, but that does not mean that daughters were unloved and unwanted. The attitude of Henry VIII to his daughters was unusual, and was probably the result of his obsession with providing the country with a male heir and subsequent ruler. Parents did love their daughters and saw them as precious gifts from God. Of all the children Thomas More had, his daughter Margaret was his favorite, and William Cecil was a devoted father to all his children, male and female. Queen Elizabeth would write letters of condolence on the death of daughters as well as on the death of sons.

A man was considered to be the head of a marriage, and he had the legal right to chastise his wife. However, it is important to understand what this "headship" meant. It did not mean, as if often supposed, that the husband was able to command his wife to do anything he pleased, in other words, be a petty tyrant. He was expected to take care of her, make sure she had everything she needed, and most importantly to love her and be a good father to any children they had. If a husband felt the need to chastise his wife, then he was not allowed to be cruel or inflict bodily harm. If he did abuse his wife, then he could be prosecuted or prevented from living with her. There was no divorce (as we know it) in Elizabethan times. Marriage generally lasted as long as the couple both lived. If a couple did want to separate, then they needed to obtain an annulment, which, if granted, meant that their marriage had never been lawful. Despite having been married six times, Henry VIII only regarded Jane Seymour and Katherine Parr as his legal wives.

It is probably fair to say that, despite the limitations, women had more freedom in the Elizabethan period than they had had previously and would have again for some time. The Renaissance brought with it a new way of thinking. It was thought men and women could do anything and be anything they wanted to be, that their capacity for knowledge was limitless. Thus, noble women, as well as men, were given an impressive education in the classics, mathematics, and all other academic subjects of the day. Elizabeth being on the throne also encouraged noble men to educate their daughters, as they did not want them to look dim in the presence of their very intelligent and highly educated queen.

Women who perhaps suffered most in this period were, ironically, those like the Queen who did not wish to marry. Tudor society did not have many avenues open to single women and, following the Reformation, those avenues were even less. Before, women were able to become nuns and look forward to a rewarding life in convents, perhaps be a Mother Superior one day. But with the Reformation, the convents were closed. Wealthy single women (heiresses of property) could look forward to being mistress of their estates and wield the power in the community this would bring, but for poor women, the only long-term "career" really open to them was domestic service. It was not surprising, therefore, that most women married. Marriage was seen as the desirable state for both men and women, and single women were sometimes looked upon with suspicion. It was mainly single women who were accused of being witches by their neighbors.

(Source: elizabethi.org)

Teaching Literature - Analysis of the play "Antony and Cleopatra" by William Shakespeare

___________________________________________________________________________
HAZLITT, William. Characters of Shakespeare's Plays. London: Macmillan and Co., 1908. pp. 58-63.
___________________________________________________________________

This is a very noble play. Though not in the first class of Shakespeare's production, it stands next to them, and is perhaps the finest of his historical plays, that is, those in which he made poetry the organ of history, and assumed a certain tone of character and sentiment, in conformity to known facts, instead of trusting to his observations of general nature or to the unlimited indulgence of his own fancy. What he has added to the actual story, is upon a par with it. His genius was, as it were, a match for history as well as nature, and could grapple at will with either. The play is full of that pervading comprehensive power by which the poet could always make himself master of time and circumstances. It presents a fine picture of Roman pride and Eastern magnificence: and in the struggle between the two, the empire of the world seems suspended, "like the swan's downfeather,

"That stands upon the swell at full of tide,

And neither way declines."

The characters breathe, move, and live. Shakespeare does not stand reasoning on what his characters would do or say, but at once becomes them, and speaks and acts for them. He does not present us with groups of stage-puppets of poetical machines making set speeches on human life, and acting from a calculation of problematical motives, but he brings living men and women on the scene, who speak and act from real feelings, according to the ebbs and flows of passion, without the least tincture of pedantry of logic or rhetoric. Nothing is made out by inference and analogy, by climax and antithesis, but every thing takes place just as it would have done in reality, according to the occasion. The character of Cleopatra is a masterpiece. What an extreme contrast it affords to Imogen! One would think it almost impossible for the same person to have drawn both. She is voluptuous, ostentatious, conscious, boastful of her charms, haughty, tyrannical, fickle. The luxurious pomp and gorgeous extravagance of the Egyptian queen are displayed in all their force and lustre, as well as the irregular grandeur of the soul of Mark Antony. Take only the first four lines that they speak as an example of the regal style of love-making:

CLEOPATRA: If it be love indeed, tell me how much?

ANTONY: There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.

CLEOPATRA: I'll set a bourn how far to be belov'd.

ANTONY: Then must thou needs find out new heav'n, new earth.

The rich and poetical description of her person beginning

"The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,

Burnt on the water; the poop was beaten gold,

Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that

The winds were love-sick".

seems to prepare the way for, and almost to justify the subsequent infatuation of Antony when in the sea-fight at Actium, he leaves the battle, and "like a doating mallard" follows her flying sails.

Few things in Shakespeare (and we know of nothing in any other author like them) have more of that local truth of imagination and character than the passage in which Cleopatra is represented conjecturing what were the employments of Antony in his absence-- "He's speaking now, or murmuring--Where's my serpent of old Nile?" Or again, when she says to Antony, after the defeat at Actium, and his summoning up resolution to risk another fight-- "It is my birthday; I had thought to have held it poor; but since my lord is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra." Perhaps the finest burst of all is Antony's rage after his final defeat when he comes in, and surprises the messenger of Caesar kissing her hand

"To let a fellow that will take rewards,

And say God quit you, be familiar with,

My play-fellow, your hand; this kingly seal,

And plighter of high hearts."

It is no wonder that he orders him to be whipped; but his low condition is not the true reason: there is another feeling which lies deeper, though Antony's pride would not let him show it, except by his rage; he suspects the fellow to be Caesar's proxy.

Cleopatra's whole character is the triumph of the voluptuous, of the love of pleasure and the power of giving over every other consideration. Octavia is a dull foil to her, and Fulvia a shrew and shrill-tongued. What picture do those lines give her

"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale

Her infinite variety. Other women cloy

The appetites they feed, but she makes me hungry

Where most she satisfies."

What a spirit and fire in her conversation with Antony's messenger who brings her the unwelcome news of his marriage with Octavia! How all the pride of beauty and of high rank breaks out in her promised reward to him

"There's gold, and here

My bluest veins to kiss!"

She had great and unpardonable faults, but the grandeur of her death almost redeems them. She learns from the depth of despair the strength of her affections. She keeps her queen-like state in the last disgrace, and her sense of the pleasurable in the last moments of her life. She tastes luxury in death. After applying the asp, she says with fondness

"Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,

That sucks the nurse asleep?

As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle.

Oh Antony!"

It is worthwhile to observe that Shakespeare has contrasted the extreme magnificence of the descriptions in this play with pictures of extreme suffering and physical horror, not less striking--partly perhaps to place the effeminite character of Mark Antony in a more favourable light, and at the same time to preserve a certain balance of feeling in the mind. Caesar says, hearing of his rival's conduct at the court of Cleopatra,

"Antony,

Leave thy lascivious wassels. When thou once

Wert beaten from Mutina, where thou slew'st

Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel

Did famine follow, whom thou fought'st against,

Though daintily brought up, with patience more

Than savage could suffer. Thou did'st drink

The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle

Which beast would cough at. Thy palate then did deign

The roughest berry on the rudest hedge,

Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets,

The barks of trees thou browsed'st. On the Alps,

It is reported, thou didst eat strange flesh,

Which some did die to look on: and all this,

It wounds thine honour, that I speak it now,

Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek

So much as lank'd not."

The passage after Antony's defeat by Augustus, where he is made to say

"Yes, yes; he at Phillipi kept

His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck

The lean and wrinkled Cassius, and 'twas I

That the mad Brutus ended"

is one of those fine retrospections which show us the winding and eventful march of human life. The jealous attention which has been paid to the unities both of time and place has taken away the principle of perspective in the drama, and all the interest which objects derive from distance, from contrast, from privation, from change of fortune, from long-cherished passion; and contrasts our view of life from a strange and romantic dream, long, obscure, and infinite, into a smartly contested, three hours' inaugural disputation on its merits by the different candidates for their theatrical applause.

The latter scenes of ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA are full of the changes of accident and passion. Success and defeat follow one another with startling rapidity. Fortune sits upon her wheel more blind and giddy than usual. This precarious state and the approaching dissolution of his greatness are strikingly displayed in the dialogue of Antony with Eros.

ANTONY: Eros, thou yet behold'st me?

EROS: Ay, noble lord.

ANTONY: Sometime we see a cloud that's dragonish,

A vapour sometime, like a bear or lion,

A towered citadel, a pendant rock,

A forked mountain, or blue promontory

With trees upon't that nod unto the world

And mock our eyes with air. Thou hast seen these signs,

They are black vesper's pageants.

EROS: Ay, my lord.

ANTONY: That which is now a horse, even with a thought

The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct

As water is in water.

EROS: It does, my lord.

ANTONY: My good knave, Eros, now thy captain is

Even such a body...

This is, without doubt, one of the finest pieces of poetry in Shakespeare. The splendor of the imagery, the semblance of reality, the lofty range of picturesque objects hanging over the world, their evanescent nature, the total uncertainty of what is left behind, are just like the mouldering schemes of human greatness. It is finer than Cleopatra's passionate lamentation over his fallen grandeur, because it is more dim, unstable, unsubstantial. Antony's headstrong presumption and infatuated determination to yield to Cleopatra's wishes to fight by sea instead of land, meet a merited punishment; and the extravagance of his resolutions, increasing with the desperateness of his circumstances, is well commented upon by Oenobarbus:

"I see men's judgments are

A parcel of their fortunes, and things outward

Do draw the inward quality after them

To suffer all alike."

The repentance of Oenobarbus after his treachery to his master is the most affecting part of the play. He cannot recover from the blow which Antony's generosity gives him, and he dies broken-hearted, "a master-leaver and a fugitive."

Shakespeare's genius has spread over the whole play a richness like the overflowing of the Nile.

Teaching Literature - Analysis of the Play "Waiting for Godot" by Samuel Beckett

Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot is probably the most famous of the enigmatic, nontraditional absurdist dramas. 

It is about two tramps who meet each day on a barren plain, hoping that an unknown figure named Godot will come. They have a vague expectation that somehow Godot if he ever comes will be able to help them; and while they wait for him, they try to break up the painful monotony of their lives with bickering and occasional vaudeville routines. The play is filled with literary and religious references. 

The setting is "A country road. A tree." The tree is leafless in Act I, but in Act II, four or five leaves appear on it. The two central characters, Vladimir and Estragon- also known as Didi and Gogo are tramplike clowns. They are waiting for Godot, but Godot's identity is never revealed, nor does he ever appear. Instead, a young messenger appears toward the end of each act and promises that Godot will arrive tomorrow. Godot may be God, or he may not even exist. Two additional characters, Lucky and Pozzo, switch roles as master and slave in their two appearances. 

Waiting for Godot epitomizes the absurdist form. The characters are absurd, clownlike figures who have problems communicating and dealing with their environment. They contemplate suicide, for example, as a means of relieving their perpetual boredom. The setting represents everywhere and nowhere. Some critics have remarked that this barren, sterile world conjures up an image of the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust. The language is stichomythic that is, written in brief, alternating lines-and frequently ludicrous. Lucky, in Act II, gives a three-page speech of seemingly unrelated ideas. As in many absurdist dramas, the plot is cyclical: the action appears to start over with nothing having changed.

The closing lines and stage direction suggest the absurdity of the universe:
Vladimir: Well? Shall we go?
Estragon: Yes, let's go. (They do not move.)

This final moment of Waiting for Godot underlines its absurdist philosophy of futility. Vladimir and Estragon have spent their time waiting; they accomplish nothing, showing only their inability to take control of their existence. Lucky and Pozzo have no control over their destiny; fate reverses their roles, transforming one from master into servant and the other from servant into master.

Some critics suggest that Waiting for Godot is a modern allegory, much like the medieval Everyman. The playwright suggests that we spend our lives waiting for the unknowable. Godot may represent God; more generally, though, Godot is anything and everything that human beings wait for during their lives-and our lives are thus defined by absurd waiting rather than by our actions. Beckett himself described Waiting for Godot as a "tragicomedy in two acts," revealing his own view of the human condition: human inaction is comical but has tragic consequences.

REFERENCES:

ACKERLEY, C. J.; GONTARSKI, S. E., (Eds.) The Faber Companion to Samuel Beckett. London: Faber and Faber, 2006. p. 620. 
BECKETT, S., Waiting for Godot. London: Faber and Faber,1988. p 91.
BROCKETT, Oscar G.; HILDY, Franklin J. History of the Theatre. Allyn & Bacon; 10. ed., 2007.
COHN, R. From Desire to Godot. London: Calder Publications; New York: Riverrun Press, 1998.

KNOWLSON, J. Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett. London: Bloomsbury, 1996. p. 567.

Teaching Literature - Drama (I)

 Profª. Drª. Bárbara de Fátima.

“Understanding Drama” Worksheet

Literary Term	Definition	Class example	My own example
Character	A person, animal, or
	thing in a work of
	literature.
Costuming	Props or clothing
	used to create a
	character’s
	wardrobe.
	Costuming usually
	fits the personality of
	the character.
Sets	The physical location
	and description of
	the play. There are
	usually many
	backgrounds used
	on a set.
Plot	The story line of the
	play. A plot must
	include a
	complication(s),
	rising action, climax,
	and a resolution.
Lighting	The effects of light
	on a stage or set of a
	play.
Analysis	Breaking down a
	piece of literature so
	that it can be
	understood.

Characterization	The process of
	creating a character
	including: words,
	actions, thoughts,
	appearance, other
	peoples’ thoughts
	and perceptions
	about the character.
Main Character	The character that is
	represented in the
	story the most. The
	plot usually revolves
	around this
	character.
Minor Character	One of the
	characters
	represented in the
	story, but not the
	main character.
Protagonist	The leading
	character of a drama
	or play whose rival is
	the antagonist.
Antagonist	The character in
	conflict with another
	main character in a
	drama or play. The
	antagonist is usually
	considered the
	villain.
Conflict	A struggle between
	opposing forces:
	usually internal or
	external conflict.
Internal Conflict	A struggle within the
	character