This comedy is in fact an anti-comedy because it is tragic, yet it is a gem, a diamond, a beauty deep in the dark of the night. Of course Shakespeare is mocking himself and turning us into foolish turkeys and gullible geese ready to be roasted for some Thanksgiving or Christmas celebration. He does not forget any of his tricks to entertain us and to make us believe he is telling us a happy and funny story.
Four gentlemen and four gentle women, on each side one is of royal blood: the perfect structure of four plus four equal eight. But there will be no wedding except for one of the three worthies, who are five plus a woman, which makes them six, the saving gift of Solomon's wisdom, and the happy ones will be Hector/ Armado and Jaquenetta, a country lass, as a sort of killing envoi to the play that was lost anyway from the very title and its three L that sounded like a death toll over, behind and under Plymouth's Burial Hill.
But the play is a beauty, a gem and a diamond, not because it is tragic but because it is written in a language that is so beautiful and witty that we lose our wits in no time and we get some loose screws in our brains after two pages. Shakespeare accumulates sonnets and all sorts of other metaphysical poems, as brilliant as John Donne's and his own actually. Just for that pleasure to listen to the most shiny and witty language of the many past centuries, this play should be taught to every child in kindergarten. No use trying in universities: they are too old to even consider love as being a serious game with one's heart and a dangerous hunt for one's soul.
But Shakespeare uses disguises tricked and tricky of course because of the masks and the exchanged identifying presents. He also uses a play in the play with five classical heroes, Pompey, Alexander the Great, Hercules, Judas Maccabaeus and Hector of Troy and a very quick intervention of a Helen of Troy to claim her three month pregnancy. Another disrupting three. We should have known, especially after the Three Worthies, the thrice worthy gentleman, and so many triple threefold play that turns awkward and awry.
But even Shakespeare did not know how to finish his silly but witty tale. So he had a black-appareled gentleman come and disturb the fest to announce to the royal young lady there that her father the King of France had just died. And in spite of that cold shower of a news the play will find a lighter ending with a song, a sad song that parts the company, with the cuckoo on one side and the owl on the other side, spring and winter, day and night. Life is but a witty farce wrapping up a tragedy in crazy words of dereliction and savagery. The free-wheeling cuckoo becomes a danger: "Cuckoo, cuckoo'- O word of fear," and the watching nocturnal Owl that announces death in the middle of the night becomes a cry of joy: "Tu-whit, To-who'- A merry note".
Shakespeare is a genius when he wants to join in the same play the full merriment of young free-floating flotsam and jetsam of aristocratic do-nothing and worth-little social scum and the deepest grief, sorrow, pain and as many tears as possible. He is the best party pooper in the world. And we like him for that, even when he turns the sword around and makes Mercutio string witty remarks on his wound just instants before he falls and dies. Shakespeare will never die or if you prefer he has not yet found his sexton and gravedigger.
Dr Jacques COULARDEAU, University Paris 1 Pantheon Sorbonne, University Paris 8 Saint Denis, University Paris 12 Créteil, CEGID
Four gentlemen and four gentle women, on each side one is of royal blood: the perfect structure of four plus four equal eight. But there will be no wedding except for one of the three worthies, who are five plus a woman, which makes them six, the saving gift of Solomon's wisdom, and the happy ones will be Hector/ Armado and Jaquenetta, a country lass, as a sort of killing envoi to the play that was lost anyway from the very title and its three L that sounded like a death toll over, behind and under Plymouth's Burial Hill.
But the play is a beauty, a gem and a diamond, not because it is tragic but because it is written in a language that is so beautiful and witty that we lose our wits in no time and we get some loose screws in our brains after two pages. Shakespeare accumulates sonnets and all sorts of other metaphysical poems, as brilliant as John Donne's and his own actually. Just for that pleasure to listen to the most shiny and witty language of the many past centuries, this play should be taught to every child in kindergarten. No use trying in universities: they are too old to even consider love as being a serious game with one's heart and a dangerous hunt for one's soul.
But Shakespeare uses disguises tricked and tricky of course because of the masks and the exchanged identifying presents. He also uses a play in the play with five classical heroes, Pompey, Alexander the Great, Hercules, Judas Maccabaeus and Hector of Troy and a very quick intervention of a Helen of Troy to claim her three month pregnancy. Another disrupting three. We should have known, especially after the Three Worthies, the thrice worthy gentleman, and so many triple threefold play that turns awkward and awry.
But even Shakespeare did not know how to finish his silly but witty tale. So he had a black-appareled gentleman come and disturb the fest to announce to the royal young lady there that her father the King of France had just died. And in spite of that cold shower of a news the play will find a lighter ending with a song, a sad song that parts the company, with the cuckoo on one side and the owl on the other side, spring and winter, day and night. Life is but a witty farce wrapping up a tragedy in crazy words of dereliction and savagery. The free-wheeling cuckoo becomes a danger: "Cuckoo, cuckoo'- O word of fear," and the watching nocturnal Owl that announces death in the middle of the night becomes a cry of joy: "Tu-whit, To-who'- A merry note".
Shakespeare is a genius when he wants to join in the same play the full merriment of young free-floating flotsam and jetsam of aristocratic do-nothing and worth-little social scum and the deepest grief, sorrow, pain and as many tears as possible. He is the best party pooper in the world. And we like him for that, even when he turns the sword around and makes Mercutio string witty remarks on his wound just instants before he falls and dies. Shakespeare will never die or if you prefer he has not yet found his sexton and gravedigger.
Dr Jacques COULARDEAU, University Paris 1 Pantheon Sorbonne, University Paris 8 Saint Denis, University Paris 12 Créteil, CEGID