Scaramouche: All the World's a Stage, and He is Scaramouche

When I first took up the book Scaramouche, I was expecting something like Monte Cristo or at least Captain Blood, with far far away adventure and a ship or two. Instead, I got French Revolution.

Andre-Louis Moreau was an ordinary lawyer under the care and provision of his godfather, Quintin de Kercadiou, Lord of Gavrillac. He didn't really care about politics, or about the world in general, despite his appetite for books and philosophy. However, everything changed when he met first hand, for the first time, the ugly face of injustice.

Andre-Louis had a friend, with quite a different opinion from him, named Philippe de Vilmorin. He had keen eyes for injustice and zeal for change and revolution. He, like many other in that era, particularly disliked the Privileged few, the aristocrats. One morning, Philippe went to Andre-Louis' place, asking him for help. A peasant had been shot to death for hunting in Marquis de La Tour d'Azyr's property, and he left a poor family. Philippe wanted the Marquis to at least take care of that family. But because the Marquis had a reputation of heartlessness, Philippe expected Andre-Louis' godfather to ask it of his friend.

The business ended badly. The young man was provoked into a duel, and, being a seminary student and unskilled in fencing, he died in the hand of Marquis de La Tour d'Azyr.

That's where the story starts. Andre-Louis stubbornly demanded justice, and being turned away by the legal sense of it, he sought justice elsewhere. Like an Antony, he spoke to the people with Philippe's voice, regardless his own belief in politics, and swore chaos and destruction in his heart for the Privileged, his friend's murderer among them.

Being an activist is not a small matter. He ended up being hunted and had to change his identity. He joined a band of travelling actors, took the name Scaramouche, and disappeared. He later learned fencing, and led a school. Later on, he went back to politics, again in the hope of bringing de La Tour d'Azyr to justice.

Let me tell this plainly. This book is not about the even arms of justice. It's not like Monte Cristo where justice was served brilliantly (at least from Dantes' point of view), or Captain Blood, where people got what they deserved (again, from his point of view). Rather, it's about men's search for it, men's struggle for it, despite the vagueness and the imperfection of the people that define it. Andre-Louis never gets his justice. There's no such thing as retaliation. There's no such thing as revolution for the better government, no such thing as perfect society. None. And that's how the story ends.

***

Andre-Louis feels like the younger brother of Captain Blood. The character, the view, the change, are pretty much the same. Their tastes for women are also similar. Aline is pretty much another Arabella, but younger and not so harsh. So, yeah, everything's pretty predictable.

Quentin de Kercadiou is charming. He's a very loving godfather, only he doesn't show it much. He cares so much about his family and friends, although limited affection for anybody beyond that important circle. His love for Andre-Louis under the mask of anger and stubbornness is also touching. And because Andre-Louis loves him all the same, it becomes even sweeter.

The word Scaramouche echoes throughout the book, as Andre-Louis calling himself Scaramouche, for being a smart clown that always runs right before everything turns real bad. A fitting name.

***

Whether I like it or not, is hard to say. But I don't think I will read it again seriously other than to skim it for fun. The plot is pretty, how do you say it, inconclusive, not because it's unfinished, but because it doesn't finish exactly like it should. Like I said, no justice or retaliation, no significant reformation, not even hollistic reconciliation. It's just 'The End'. Ta-da.

But surely I'm glad to finish another Classic Club homework.

Macbeth: Or, The Scottish Murder

I had been avoiding Macbeth for so long, even though I had known that I would, or rather, must, read it one day. The fame of it alone gives enough reason to read it. My motive is still added by my own personal challenge to real all Shakespeare's plays, and my general dotage when it comes to the Bard.

Macbeth is a tragedy. It follows the classical tragedy pattern, where a person of good nature makes one mistake that changes everything and he ends up miserable or dead. Macbeth has been a good thane and a loyal subject to Duncan the King of Scotland. But his encounter with three witches sisters changes everything. 

Being promised to be a king, he and his wife assassinate the King of Scotland in their own house, accusing the guards, and later the deceased king's sons, for the murder, and take over Scotland. Not just that, Macbeth wants to be secure on the throne. So he takes the witches' prophecy too seriously when they say that Banquo's descendant will be king one day. Even though Banquo is his good friend, Macbeth eventually has him murdered as well, although his son manages to escape. 

After consulting the witches for the second time, Macbeth kills the whole lot of another thane's family - Macduff's. Macduff has suspected Macbeth of regicide and now he flies to England to convince the late king's son, Malcolm, to take the kingdom back. Upon hearing the news about his wife and his children's death, Macduff grieves with vengeance blazing in his heart. 

Meanwhile the queen has gone mad, and Macbeth is more and more dominated by his fears and guilt. Malcolm and his friends, on the other hand, confidently march toward Dunsinane. Before they come, Macbeth learns that his wife has just died. 

Macbeth at first feels secure because the witches have told him that none 'born of woman' would do him harm, and that he will be safe until 'Birnam Wood comes to Dunsinane'. Later on, he realizes that he has misinterpreted the prophecies. Malcolm uses the tree branches from Birnam Wood to cover his army's number, and Macduff who was "from his mother's womb/untimely ripped" at last kills Macbeth in the battle.

***
Never mind the plot. I mean, most people know the plot already. But aside from the plot, there are so many things to analyse in this short concise play. Like Hamlet, Macbeth is a material of never-ending discussion. How much does his own ambition affect his reaction to the witches' prophecy? How big is his wife's influence or even control over him? 

Sir Patrick Stewart as Macbeth

It may seem obvious, and for me to talk about that again, is a bit predictable and boring. But, yeah, the thing that was constantly in my mind while reading the book was the torture that Macbeth received from his heart - his conscience.

The last time I talked about conscience, it was Lucrece, right? The lady's heart condemns her for something out of her control, while Tarquin ignores his conscience's voice. Macbeth's conscience is interesting because it warns him before the deed and condemns him after. He is somewhat sandwiched by his own conscience.

Macbeth runs from his conscience. Instead of looking again at the deed that he has done and asking forgiveness, he acts as if it had never happened at all. He wouldn't look at it, he wouldn't think about it, he wouldn't discuss about it, and the more he runs from his guilt, the more it clutches his mind. His insomnia and encounter with ghosts are very possibly the manifestation of his tempestuous mind. (It's even possible that he has some sort of schizophrenia, considering the dagger scene and all.)

The murder of Banquo, the murder of Macduff's wife and children, his second consultation with the witches, all show that he is no longer the Macbeth that we saw at the beginning of the play. He's entirely a different man, haunted by his guilt and by his fear of retribution.

***

If there's anyone that I like, it's Malcolm. Although he maybe didn't know that it was Macbeth who had killed his father, he was smart enough to see that something was wrong. Both he and his brother fled abroad, waiting for better opportunity to claim his own.

The discretion in him is also evident when Macduff came to look for him. Instead of unsuspectingly receiving Macduff as a friend, he carefully pulled out Macduff's concerns and motives.

***

Macbeth has been pleasant, and I think I do like it. It's dark, much darker than Hamlet, maybe because the lack of comic material. But it's so interesting. To be honest, I have read it twice before finishing this review.

Happy reading.

The Fault in Our Stars: Hamartia and Fate

I promise it was not the movie that made me read the book. To be honest, I haven't watched it yet. I don't really like to read a book when everyone's hyped about it. Besides, somewhere deep inside I still hate tragedies, although the plays I read help me to tolerate them a bit.

However, I found a very interesting Youtube video two days ago, all accidentally, and after a few more videos, I realized that the speaker of these hilarious videos was called John Green. I wondered if he's the same John Green that writes all those books so I looked him up on Google, and ta-da!

I ended up reading his book and finishing it just last night, soaking my pajamas in my own tears and cursing the title he chose for his book, taken from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, and incidentally one of my favourite lines there.

Let's discuss the book before Shakespeare fangirl in me takes over.

The book is about a girl named Hazel Grace, who has lung cancer and has to bring oxygen tank everywhere. She has a family to be envied: a loving mother and father, and a lovely girl, herself. In her own way, she wants to make her parents happy, but she feels like she's a burden to them, like she hinders their happiness. Of course the parents incessantly say and show that they love her very much, but it makes her feel worse about it.

Meanwhile, she falls for a boy who falls for her too, Augustus. He's a cancer survivor who lost one of his legs in operation. Hazel begins to analyse her feelings towards Augustus, thinking of herself as a 'grenade' that could explode anytime. She wants to spare him the heartache by not being too close to him.

Hazel loves one book and one author: AIA and Peter van Houten. Augustus shares her love for them too. In their correspondence with him, Peter likens their relationship with Romeo and Juliet's, calling them 'star-crossed lovers' (somehow). Let me quote.

I am in receipt of your electronic mail dated the 14th of April and duly impressed by the Shakespearean complexity of your tragedy. Everyone in this tale has a rock-solid hamartia: hers, that she is so sick; yours, that you are so well. Were she better or you sicker, then the stars would not be so terribly crossed, but it is the nature of stars to cross, and never was Shakespeare more wrong than when he had Cassius note, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars / But in ourselves.” Easy enough to say when you’re a Roman nobleman (or Shakespeare!), but there is no shortage of fault to be found amid our stars.

There. (Emphasis is mine.)

Eventually, Hazel and Augustus become lovers, and, yeah, "The course of true love never did run smooth." But I will not give you any spoilers here about the ending. It cannot be told, it has to be read.

***

What strikes me in this novel is of course, the word hamartia, and the nature of fate. The title of this novel alone reveals that (maybe) it's what in the author's mind. The Fault in our Stars.

It's easy to see that the 'stars' is fate, destiny. The fact that they are both kids with cancer, the fact that they would probably die young, the fact that they fall in love with each other, it's all in their 'stars'. Hamartia has been a classic element in tragedy since Ancient Greeks played with masks. It means flaw in character or fault in his/her action that ultimately leads to his/her tragic end. Like, you know, with Othello it is his jealousy, with Coriolanus it's his stubbornness and his definition of honour, etc.

The novel argues, though, that in Hazel and Augustus' case, the hamartia, or 'fault', is not in themselves, but in fate. By fate I don't mean the three sisters who cut threads instead of weave them. Nor do I mean the 'predestination', in which some people believe that God writes down all details in our lives and watches as we 'play' our parts. The fate that we're talking about is more like the things out of our controls, things that we cannot change. In the novel, of course, the hamartia is their illness, and right, in this case, "The fault, dear readers, is in their stars."

***

Some people love to mark the quality of the books they read with stars. I don't want to add more fault to my judgment, so, no, no star in this case. What I want to say is that this book deserves reading, absolutely. I don't know if the book will become classic one day, but it certainly discusses life and death and the meaning of our existence. All best wishes to the authors. If the book becomes a classic, than my blog is true to its purpose. If not, then this post is an intermission for more classics to come. (I'm still struggling with Walden and my reading challenge by the way.)

Thanks for reading this blog post, and, happy reading to you.

Walden, and some books on words

The readers of my blog may interpret my absence as mack of reading, which is, to some extent, true. I've been busier and my time has been consumed by my job, and also by my increasingly unhealthy addiction to Shakespeare. The latter has proved to be a huge hindrance to my old reading habit, since now I use my time not only to read and reread Shakespeare, but also to do some research about his works, mostly, theatrically.

However, I picked up my old book Walden some time ago and started reading it instead of rereading Shakespeare's plays that I've read before. It's interesting that Thoreau and I agree upon some points about life. For example, I sure agree with his willingness to live in simplicity, and I agree that the more you have, the more you need to keep your possessions. I'm still halfway through the first chapter of Walden, so I don't have the full picture of Thoreau's idea of perfect way of living.

Apart from that, I've been drawn (by Shakespeare and other excellent poets) into the words and their significance. Before I realise it, I think about words almost everyday when I let my mind wander; their meanings, their origins, their sounds, etc. So, to prevent myself from getting insane I read some books on language, words, and linguistics. What I love the most is the relation between word, sound, and meaning. It's fascinates me how the words in different languages with the same meaning are different, or, sound differently because the people using them hear, or rather, translate noises around them differently.

Well, this, like the entirety of this blog, is more of a hobby than a study. So I don't really push myself to understand everything, but rather learn bit by bit conveniently.

So, that's it. Let's hope I'll finish Walden soon so I will have some material to review on this blog. Have a nice day.

Weekend Quote #51

I am sorry, I have truly forgotten to post a Weekend Quote yesterday. This is bad, because it means that for those who live in Eastern part of the world will have very short time to join us.

Mine ears against your suits are stronger than
Your gates against my force.

Another from Coriolanus. It's one of those times when the words just stick with you and won't leave yo even in your sleep.

Menenius was trying to persuade Coriolanus not to attack Rome. Coriolanus was so bitter in soul that nothing he said could sway him from his decision to burn the town down with all its inhabitants. Thus the words.

To be honest, the lines are pure stubbornness, or if you want a more positive term, determination. But, still, I'd say stubbornness. Honestly, can you think of a better way, in the character of Coriolanus, to express it?

(I would heed my friend's advice and try to read and write something not Shakespeare-related next week, lest I'd bore my readers and lest this blog changes into a Shakespeare blog, which I already have in another URL.)

Richard II: "Two buckets filling one another"

At last I tackled some of Shakespeare's histories. Huft. This genre has long been my "untouchable" list. I was so scared to read history plays because I know next to nothing about the real history of England and because I assumed they would be tedious. Well, Richard III, one of my first attempts, was so full of murder that it's a bit of discouragement to take up another. But thankfully, I did! Yay!

So first, the plot. The play opens with a trial. Bolingbroke and Mowbray both accuse the other of treason, and are presenting their case in front of the king. The trial scene ends with both of them agreeing to decide the matter with a 'trial by combat'. The ever-changing Richard, however, stops them during the battle, and arbitrarily banishes both of them - Mowbray for his entire life, and Bolingbroke for 10 years (reduced to 6 the next few seconds).

After Bolingbroke's banishment, Richard's 'flatterers' persuade him to wage war with the Irish. Around the same time, Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster, and Bolingbroke's father, is dying. Richard consents to visit him, praying that he dies quickly so that could take his riches and use it for his war.

Now put it, God, in his physician’s mind
To help him to his grave immediately.
The lining of his coffers shall make coats
To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.
Come, gentlemen, let’s all go visit him.
Pray God we may make haste and come too late

Gaunt is still alive when Richard gets there. With his dying breath he condemns Richard's abuse of power and shows Richard his faults. The young king is too proud to receive any correction. Instead of mending his life and rulership he seizes all Gaunt's riches immediately after his death. Now, again, his other uncle, Duke of York, warns him that by taking from Bolingbroke his hereditary right, he just puts his kingship in peril. However, doesn't the king himself know that Bolingbroke is more popular than himself in England?

You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
You lose a thousand well-disposèd hearts
And prick my tender patience to those thoughts
Which honour and allegiance cannot think.

As always in Shakespeare, the play stays true to the prophecy. Bolingbroke returns to England, aided by his followers Northumberland, Ross, and Willoughby. Whilst the king is away in Ireland dealing with rebels, Bolingbroke musters power and men, with the purpose of claiming his right. Only that. But when he says this to the king, face to face, Richard sees his act as a request for his abdication, and agrees to give his kingdom to Henry.

HENRY BOLINGBROKE
My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.
KING RICHARD II
Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
So far be mine, my most redoubted lord,
As my true service shall deserve your love.
KING RICHARD II
Well you deserve: they well deserve to have,
That know the strong'st and surest way to get.
...
Cousin, I am too young to be your father,
Though you are old enough to be my heir.
What you will have, I'll give, and willing too;
For do we must what force will have us do.

Even though Richard voluntarily (although unwillingly) renounces his throne and gives it to Henry, the supporters of both parties are still unsatisfied. Henry's supporters, such as Northumberland, desire that the king gives away his crown in public, witnessed by all. The scene, however, becomes the most uneasy scene in this play, where Richard stabs Henry's heart with every word he can think of. (Here's Jamie Parker as Richard. Amazing interpretation of the lines.)

For Richard, his status as king - as Richard, King of England - is all his being. Without his crown, he is nobody. Although Richard is a whiny, spoiled king, his deposition scene no doubt pricks Henry's conscience to the core. He then asks Henry to send him away, and Henry sends him to the Tower. (The Tower at that time was also a royal residence, so Shakespeare's Henry possibly didn't mean to cruelly imprison Richard there. He only wanted to make sure that Richard wouldn't do anything dangerous.)

A thwarted plan to kill Henry and re-enthrone Richard establishes Henry's rule as England's king, while Carlisle's prophecy of civil war establishes Shakespeare's future and past history plays. You know, these tricks have been in use since Homer and Hesiod walked the earth.

The play ends with Richard's death by Henry's supporters and Henry's mourning over it.

****

I won't add much to this already lengthy post. I just want to say that Shakespeare was a cruel, unfeeling playwright in the way that he plays with people's feeling.

For the first part of the play, I side with Henry Bolingbroke. Actually I kind of side with Mowbray in the first Act. But as for Richard, for the first three acts of the play, I feel like I just want to punch his face. Annoying, whiny king is not really mu taste. But oh, dear, the fourth act! I can feel Henry's awkwardness, being for the first time addressed as king, and confronting Richard, the ex-king, who throws thorn after thorn to him. I mean, I feel almost guilty for supporting Henry. And Henry must feel the same, because he tries to be nice to him.

A minor but important (I think) thing in this play is the dialogue about Harry the Prince of Wales. He is the real main character of this tetralogy. Richard II is the prologue to all the fun of Henry V. But we will come to that later, when I am calmer, and less hyped up by all the qualities in Henry's character.

Coriolanus: One Against the World

It's never easy to make a Shakespeare play review. There are so many things to say, and yet I don't know where to start or how to say them. Being somewhat excluded from the "famous" tragedies such as Hamlet, Macbeth, or King Lear, I find Coriolanus has been underrated, where it deserves better acknowledgement.

The setting is Rome. Caius Martius is a renowned soldier who fights with all his heart and might for Rome. His iron-like character he partly owes to his ambitious mother, who, like Alexander's, desires glory, honour, and prestige for her son. Raised as a soldier, Caius Martius becomes an excellent war-machine, but a bad politician - especially when it comes to his relationship with the plebeian. He hates them, and they hate him.

He that will give good words to thee will flatter
Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs,
That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you,
The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,
Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese:
....
Who deserves greatness
Deserves your hate; and your affections are
A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favours swims with fins of lead
And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye?
With every minute you do change a mind,
And call him noble that was now your hate,
Him vile that was your garland.

After his glory in Corioles, he is granted the position of a consul and the nickname 'Coriolanus'. Not for long. Soon after, he takes the bait that the tribunes lay for him, and he loses control of his temper, giving a speech that ruins everything he has. He is banished shortly after. Or, from his point of view, he banishes the people.

Coriolanus has one dire enemy - Tullus Aufidius, a Volsce. They have fought several times and Coriolanus always wins. Both share the same hatred toward one another. But his banishment changes everything. Now he goes to Aufidius and offers him help to defeat his own country. Aufidius accepts the offer, thinking that he will be the one who benefits.

Now this extremity
Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope--
Mistake me not--to save my life, for if
I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world
I would have 'voided thee, but in mere spite,
To be full quit of those my banishers,
Stand I before thee here.
....
That my revengeful services may prove
As benefits to thee, for I will fight
Against my canker'd country with the spleen
Of all the under fiends.

Not really. Aufidius envy Coriolanus' charisma that inspires people - his people - to follow him. He doesn't shine beside Coriolanus. Aufidius decides to find a way to get rid of this Roman. He gets his chance soon enough.

The people of Rome, hearing that Coriolanus has joined armies with Aufidius, send messenger after messenger to seek his mercy. These messengers are his old friends, and yet, Coriolanus doesn't budge. No, he is determined to see Rome destroyed. But Coriolanus, stubborn and hard-hearted as he is, still has some soft spots in his heart. So when his mother, wife, and son come to meet him, his determination melts away. He proposes peace between Rome and Volsce. Aufidius sees this as a reason to kill Coriolanus, and he seizes the chance without delay.

Coriolanus, Act V, Scene III. Engraved by James Caldwell from a painting by Gavin Hamilton.

The ending is by no means fair for the hero. Alone he dies while his mother becomes a patroness. Alone he dies, with none of his family and friends knowing. His death doesn't change anything in the system that he hates so much. Just another fall of man.

*****

If there's any fault in Coriolanus' character, I don't think it is pride, as Brutus and Sicinius think. A proud man would love to hear his "nothings monster'd", or his deeds shouted loud with "acclamations hyperbolical." No, it is not haughtiness or pride. Coriolanus sets a high standard for himself and measures other people's worth using the same standard. That's his problem.

He hates the people because they ask much without showing they deserve to have the things they demand. He calls his fellow soldiers cowards because they don't show courage and valour equal to his. He despises people who puts his own interests, especially materially,  over the country. This standard he follows, and he thinks he's just doing what he -and everyone else - should do.

I have done
As you have done; that's what I can; induced
As you have been; that's for my country:
He that has but effected his good will
Hath overta'en mine act.

His second fault is of course his unbridled tongue. His friends, such as Menenius and Cominius might share his feelings and opinion about the people, but they keep their mouth shut. They know how to 'flatter' the people - saying things that they would love to hear (pretty much like many politicians nowadays). But Coriolanus cannot speak words that 'are but rooted in his tongue'. He speaks what's in his heart too plainly that it sounds so harsh and rude.

His nature is too noble for the world:
He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth:
What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;
And, being angry, does forget that ever
He heard the name of death.

It's so easy to sympathise with people in this play. I mean, Shakespeare's always brilliant when it comes to characterization, but Coriolanus is one of those that just sticks in one's head. Not just him. Cominius and Menenius, Volumnia and Virgilia, even Aufidius, are all fascinating characters that people can easily relate to.

To sum up all, Coriolanus, for me, is another play about a man "more sinn'd against than sinning."