(For information regarding my Shakespeare Lectures: georgewalllectures@gmail.com)
Showing posts with label How Does a Poem Mean?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label How Does a Poem Mean?. Show all posts

Thursday, November 25, 2010

The final quality that should be considered in poetic diction, according to John Ciardi and Miller Williams' How Does a Poem Mean? (1959), is that "a word is a picture", by which they mean that the origin of most words can be found in some sort of poetic image. Shakespeare's work provides thousands of examples of this for two main reasons. The first, as we know, is that he created so many words himself. The second is that he never settles for a tired expression in his writing, and thus the reader is constantly surprised by its contents. For example, when Iago tells Roderigo his age, he doesn't say, "I'm twenty-eight years old", but instead, "I have looked upon the world for four times seven years", which gives us an entirely new way of considering the nature of existence. And for an example of pure imagery, have a look at this passage from Antony and Cleopatra (3.6), during which Octavius reacts angrily to being surprised by his sister Octavia's arrival. She's married to Antony at this point, we must remember, so Octavius is looking for reasons to be offended. But my point here doesn't regard the plot, rather it's the way the words evoke the power and splendour of Rome through the use of words as pictures:

Why have you stol'n upon us thus! You come not
Like Caesar's sister: the wife of Antony
Should have an army for an usher, and
The neighs of horse to tell of her approach
Long ere she did appear; the trees by the way
Should have borne men; and expectation fainted,
Longing for what it had not; nay, the dust
Should have ascended to the roof of heaven,
Raised by your populous troops: but you are come
A market-maid to Rome; and have prevented
The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown,
Is often left unloved; we should have met you
By sea and land; supplying every stage
With an augmented greeting.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

The third of John Ciardi and Miller Williams' four sections concerning the nature of words (from their 1959 handbook, How Does a Poem Mean?) begins with the heading, "A word is a history", and goes on to explain why poetry has always played an inordinate role in the development of languages: "With a few exceptions every word traced back far enough is either a metaphor or an onomatopoiea." Therefore, the poetic concept itself is responsible for the creation of many words. Of course, Shakespeare is renowned for the number of words and expressions that he invented, but even more importantly, he set the template for the evolution of English into the world's most expressive language. And he is its de facto figurehead because of his way of working, which is at once deeply informed by writing of the past (and not only in English) as well as infused with creativity, flexibility and inclusiveness. To put it plainly, I really can't see how it is possible to have a serious appreciation for English without having the same for the works of Shakespeare. In fact, without them, it is very unlikely that the language would still be in use.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

One of the most thrilling experiences that one can have as a spectator is to see a Shakespeare play acted and directed with intelligence and passion. Watching an actor explore the inner workings of his or her character, and then conveying these discoveries to the audience - and making them share in the emotions - is unforgettable. One of the biggest reasons that Shakespeare is the holy grail of actors is that his language allows so much room for their thoughts and projections. This brings me to the second of John Ciardi and Miller Williams' four characteristics to be considered by a poet making decisions regarding diction (from their 1959 book, How Does a Poem Mean?): "2. A word involves the whole body." This refers to the fact that spoken words require the human body to be produced, and interpreted, and that there is a purely musical or sonic aspect involved in each of them. And of course, this aspect is particularly important in poetic drama, where the words are the canvas on which the actors paint. So lines like the following (from Hamlet's first soliloquy, in act one, scene two) need to be spoken aloud, with real emotion, to be truly felt:

Within a month,
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue!

Try it. I think you'll find that the sounds themselves play a large part in getting the content across.

Monday, November 22, 2010

The first of the four considerations that enter into word choice, according to John Ciardi and Miller Williams' How Does a Poem Mean? (1959), is: "A word is a feeling". The main point here is that there is an emotional component in a word, its "connotation", as opposed to its literal meaning (i.e. dictionary definition) or "denotation". Thus, the word choice informs the reader about the attitude (or tone) of the writer, or speaker, in the case of drama. Let's take an example from King Lear. In act four, scene one Goneril (the daughter who swore her great love to him in the first scene) is in the process of starting a conflict with with the king, and as she accurately deduces, the best way to do so is to attempt to remove some of his royal trappings, in this case the hundred knights who follow him. And she also realizes that to take a formal and patronizing tone will help with it as well. Here is part of her lecture:

I do beseech you
To understand my purposes aright.
As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd, and bold
That this our court, infected with their manners,
Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lust
Make it more like a tavern or a brothel
Than a grac'd palace. The shame itself doth speak
For instant remedy. Be then desir'd
By her that else will take the thing she begs
A little to disquantity your train,
And the remainder that shall still depend
To be such men as may besort your age,
Which know themselves, and you.

Note the condescending and distant (almost chilling) tone and how almost every word is calculated to achieve maximum emotional impact. "A word is a feeling" indeed.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

I want to try to learn a bit more about what Shakespeare's thought process might have been in terms of diction. And for that purpose, I'm going to refer (again) to John Ciardi's highly useful handbook entitled How Does a Poem Mean? (1959). In Chapter Four, "The Words of Poetry", he points out that words have four qualities and that they should all be considered when making a decision regarding their use. I'm going to summarize Ciardi's points and give Shakespearean examples of each over the next few posts, but for now these are the headings unadorned:

1. A word is a feeling.
2. A word involves the whole body.
3. A word is a history.
4. A word is a picture.

And here, as an example of Shakespeare's diction, is a passage from act three of Henry V, in which the chorus asks us to imagine the English Navy's voyage to France:

CHORUS
Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies
In motion of no less celerity
Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen
The well-appointed king at Hampton pier
Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet
With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning:
Play with your fancies, and in them behold
Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing;
Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give
To sounds confused; behold the threaden sails,
Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,
Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea,
Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think
You stand upon the ravage and behold
A city on the inconstant billows dancing;
For so appears this fleet majestical,
Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow:
Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy,
And leave your England, as dead midnight still,
Guarded with grandsires, babies and old women,
Either past or not arrived to pith and puissance;
For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd
With one appearing hair, that will not follow
These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?

Monday, September 20, 2010

Another frequent question that comes up with regard to Shakespeare concerns whether he was a dramatist who wrote in verse, or a poet who wrote plays. Northrop Frye argued for the former (in Northrop Frye on Shakespeare) and although I seldom disagree with the great man, I do here. To me, the clearest way to see the plays for what they really are is to accept them as large-scale poems that treat several related themes in various but ultimately connected ways. They are like literary symphonies. This is not to say that Shakespeare was not a masterful playwright in the strictest story-telling sense - he was. But at no point in any of the plays is language and poetry ever disregarded or treated as secondary. The most comprehensive handbook that I've come across in terms of explaining the various and subtle aspects of poetry is John Ciardi and Miller Williams' How Does a Poem Mean?(1959). It does a splendid job of discussing meter, rhyme, figurative language, diction, tone, imagery - and there is not one section of the book, one concept or poetic technique that could not be illustrated by an example from Shakespeare. This could not be said about any other dramatist that used verse. Consider this also: Hamlet, the work of literature that explores the human condition more deeply than any before and perhaps since, states its thematic concern with this concise and powerful opening: "Who's there?" Only a poet of the highest order would (or could) have done so.