Edition: Everyman
Review number: 112
Like the better known Duchess of Malfi, sometimes considered almost to be a sequel to The White Devil, this play is concerned with the murky depths of Italian politics. It is actually based on real events, though the plot apparently differs quite widely from the true history of the famous courtesan Vittoria Corombona.
The story begins with the banishment of Lodovico, for his crimes in the city of Rome; he rails against others, whose crimes are greater yet who retain the privilege of living in the city (notably Paulo Giodano Ursini, the Duke of Brachiano, protector of Vittoria though husband of Isabella). Isabella's brother is the powerful Francisco de Medicis, Duke of Florence discovers his relationship with Vittoria and insults him; Brachiano's response is to divorce the innocent Isabella. He then proceeds to arrange the murders of Isabella and Camillo, Vittoria's husband.
As various parties begin to try to exact their revenge and Vittoria is put on trial for the murder of Camillo, the bloodthirstiness of the play mounts - poison, stabbing, strangling, shooting. All in all, it is an excellent example of a revenge tragedy, though the plot takes second place to the poetry of individual scenes.
Friday, 28 August 1998
Wednesday, 26 August 1998
J.F. Plumb: England in the Eighteenth Century (1950)
Edition: Penguin, 1968
Review number: 111
This book, covering the reigns of the first three Georges (1714-1820), is perhaps the least successful in the Pelican History of England. The brevity of its coverage (imposed as a series restriction) is the main cause of this. There were many important developments during the eighteenth century involving - and frequently commencing in - Britain, not just in the social and economic spheres (the events collectively referred to as the Industrial Revolution) but in the political arena as well (the French and American revolutions and the development of British rule in India spring to mind).
The century saw so many developments important to the way we live now that they can only be sketched in brief in a book of this length. To try and get round this, Plumb assumes that his readers will have at least some sort of basic familiarity with the political history of the period, if not the social and economic. Thus, one section of the book is entitled "The Age of Chatham", yet he omits to mention that Pitt and Chatham are one and the same; so one who did not know this, it would not become obvious until the paragraph in a later section detailing the rise of his grandson, Pitt the Younger.
As the background to English affairs becomes more complex and more international, short paragraphs explaining the European situation are not enough to put its influence on them into context. This book cannot, like the earlier members of the series, be read as an introduction to a period; it is more a useful summary and a reminder to those who have already read more on the eighteenth century.
Review number: 111
This book, covering the reigns of the first three Georges (1714-1820), is perhaps the least successful in the Pelican History of England. The brevity of its coverage (imposed as a series restriction) is the main cause of this. There were many important developments during the eighteenth century involving - and frequently commencing in - Britain, not just in the social and economic spheres (the events collectively referred to as the Industrial Revolution) but in the political arena as well (the French and American revolutions and the development of British rule in India spring to mind).
The century saw so many developments important to the way we live now that they can only be sketched in brief in a book of this length. To try and get round this, Plumb assumes that his readers will have at least some sort of basic familiarity with the political history of the period, if not the social and economic. Thus, one section of the book is entitled "The Age of Chatham", yet he omits to mention that Pitt and Chatham are one and the same; so one who did not know this, it would not become obvious until the paragraph in a later section detailing the rise of his grandson, Pitt the Younger.
As the background to English affairs becomes more complex and more international, short paragraphs explaining the European situation are not enough to put its influence on them into context. This book cannot, like the earlier members of the series, be read as an introduction to a period; it is more a useful summary and a reminder to those who have already read more on the eighteenth century.
Tuesday, 25 August 1998
William Faulkner: The Sound and the Fury (1929)
Edition: Chatto & Windus
The Sound and the Fury must rank as one of the most cleverly written novels of all time. It is a stream of consciousness narrative, divided into four points each narrated from a different viewpoint. The plot concerns the decline and decay of a decadent family from the US South during the first half of this century. The cleverness lies in the way in which Faulkner manages to convince the reader that they are getting completely under the skin of each of the narrators in the first three parts (the final section is more of an epilogue, sketching in the conclusion of the plot). Three of the parts, the first, third and fourth, tell of three successive days in 1928, the second part is a flashback to 1910.
The first part is the greatest tour de force, being convincingly told from the point of view of a mentally handicapped young man named Benjy, who has no understanding of the events going on around him and a complete inability to comprehend chronology; all times are to him "now", as past events impinge on his present awareness. He haunts the local golf course, hoping to hear calls to a caddy, his vanished sister's family nickname having been Caddie (as we learn later). Faulkner thoughtfully marks transitions from one time to another by alternating normal and italic typefaces, a device without which it would be impossible to gater any idea of what is going on, as changes occur even in the middle of sentences as recollections occur to Benjy.
The narrator of the second part is Benjy's brother Quentin, telling the story of the day on which he commits suicide. Caddie's departure and his suicide have the same cause, we learn: an incestuous affair which leaves Quentin racked with guilt and Caddie pregnant.
The third part is narrated by another brother, Jason, telling of Caddie's attempts to get to meet her incestuous daughter, brought up by the family from which Caddie has been strenuously excluded. (The fact that the daughter is also named Quentin clears up confusion left over from the first part, where Benjy does not differentiate between father and daughter except to use masculine and feminine pronouns.) While not as overtly clever as the first two parts, Jason's miserly nature and hypocrisy - though of a different kind to that of the rest of the family - is skilfully brought out. This third part leads up to Quentin running away from home, taking her uncle's savings with her.
The corruption of this family is accompanied by a kind of Greek chorus of their coloured servants, who of course are never able to openly criticise despite their own comparative moral purity. The small town Southern atmosphere also comes across very clearly. All in all, this is a twentieth century classic, not surprisingly compared to Ulysses by the comments printed on the jacket and in the introduction to this edition.
The Sound and the Fury must rank as one of the most cleverly written novels of all time. It is a stream of consciousness narrative, divided into four points each narrated from a different viewpoint. The plot concerns the decline and decay of a decadent family from the US South during the first half of this century. The cleverness lies in the way in which Faulkner manages to convince the reader that they are getting completely under the skin of each of the narrators in the first three parts (the final section is more of an epilogue, sketching in the conclusion of the plot). Three of the parts, the first, third and fourth, tell of three successive days in 1928, the second part is a flashback to 1910.
The first part is the greatest tour de force, being convincingly told from the point of view of a mentally handicapped young man named Benjy, who has no understanding of the events going on around him and a complete inability to comprehend chronology; all times are to him "now", as past events impinge on his present awareness. He haunts the local golf course, hoping to hear calls to a caddy, his vanished sister's family nickname having been Caddie (as we learn later). Faulkner thoughtfully marks transitions from one time to another by alternating normal and italic typefaces, a device without which it would be impossible to gater any idea of what is going on, as changes occur even in the middle of sentences as recollections occur to Benjy.
The narrator of the second part is Benjy's brother Quentin, telling the story of the day on which he commits suicide. Caddie's departure and his suicide have the same cause, we learn: an incestuous affair which leaves Quentin racked with guilt and Caddie pregnant.
The third part is narrated by another brother, Jason, telling of Caddie's attempts to get to meet her incestuous daughter, brought up by the family from which Caddie has been strenuously excluded. (The fact that the daughter is also named Quentin clears up confusion left over from the first part, where Benjy does not differentiate between father and daughter except to use masculine and feminine pronouns.) While not as overtly clever as the first two parts, Jason's miserly nature and hypocrisy - though of a different kind to that of the rest of the family - is skilfully brought out. This third part leads up to Quentin running away from home, taking her uncle's savings with her.
The corruption of this family is accompanied by a kind of Greek chorus of their coloured servants, who of course are never able to openly criticise despite their own comparative moral purity. The small town Southern atmosphere also comes across very clearly. All in all, this is a twentieth century classic, not surprisingly compared to Ulysses by the comments printed on the jacket and in the introduction to this edition.
Michael Jecks: A Moorland Hanging (1996)
Edition: Headline, 1996
Review number: 109
A Moorland Hanging is the third of Jecks' Devonshire novels featuring Simon Puttock and Sir Baldwin Furnshil. Like P.C. Doherty, Simon Jecks is an author who really knows something about the medieval period. He is perhaps more interested in institutions than Doherty, and this combines with the country setting to naturally remove some of the unpleasantness of the medieval world (to a modern reader) which comes to the fore in Doherty's series of the seamier side of London life.
The novel has as its central theme the clash between forest law and common law which was an important part of the medieval English scene, where much of the land was designated "royal forest", to be the private hunting ground of the king and his friends. Although open land rather than woodland, Dartmoor was a forest, and this led to clashes between the tin miners who worked on the moor (who paid a special tax to the king, and were able to run their own affairs with their own courts in return) and local landowners. The miners were able to prevent the use of particular pieces of land for farming by marking them out as places where tin was mined; this privilege could be (and was) used to terrorise the landowners, who were unable to retaliate against the miners because they had the king's protection.
The particular dispute around which the plot turns concerns the escape of a villein, Peter Bruther, from the Beauscyr family demesne. By declaring himself a miner, he puts himself beyond the landowners' normal methods for forcing a serf to return and causes a confrontation between the Beauscyrs and the miners' leader, Thomas Smyth. When Bruther is discovered hanged on a tree on the moor, as though killed judicially, the confrontation threatens to escalate into a major incident; hence the involvement of Simon Puttock, the king's bailiff, and his friend Sir Baldwin Furnshill.
A Moorland Hanging is a fascinating novel, particularly in the way it makes the frequently obscure workings of the medieval legal system not only clear but interesting. The characters do tend rather to the two dimensional, especially those - paradoxically - that you would expect to be best fleshed out, the series characters Puttock and Furnshill.
Review number: 109
A Moorland Hanging is the third of Jecks' Devonshire novels featuring Simon Puttock and Sir Baldwin Furnshil. Like P.C. Doherty, Simon Jecks is an author who really knows something about the medieval period. He is perhaps more interested in institutions than Doherty, and this combines with the country setting to naturally remove some of the unpleasantness of the medieval world (to a modern reader) which comes to the fore in Doherty's series of the seamier side of London life.
The novel has as its central theme the clash between forest law and common law which was an important part of the medieval English scene, where much of the land was designated "royal forest", to be the private hunting ground of the king and his friends. Although open land rather than woodland, Dartmoor was a forest, and this led to clashes between the tin miners who worked on the moor (who paid a special tax to the king, and were able to run their own affairs with their own courts in return) and local landowners. The miners were able to prevent the use of particular pieces of land for farming by marking them out as places where tin was mined; this privilege could be (and was) used to terrorise the landowners, who were unable to retaliate against the miners because they had the king's protection.
The particular dispute around which the plot turns concerns the escape of a villein, Peter Bruther, from the Beauscyr family demesne. By declaring himself a miner, he puts himself beyond the landowners' normal methods for forcing a serf to return and causes a confrontation between the Beauscyrs and the miners' leader, Thomas Smyth. When Bruther is discovered hanged on a tree on the moor, as though killed judicially, the confrontation threatens to escalate into a major incident; hence the involvement of Simon Puttock, the king's bailiff, and his friend Sir Baldwin Furnshill.
A Moorland Hanging is a fascinating novel, particularly in the way it makes the frequently obscure workings of the medieval legal system not only clear but interesting. The characters do tend rather to the two dimensional, especially those - paradoxically - that you would expect to be best fleshed out, the series characters Puttock and Furnshill.
Monday, 24 August 1998
Federico Garcia Lorca: Plays Two (1920-1936)
Translation: Gwynne Edwards
Edition: Methuen
Review number: 108
This volume contains The Butterfly's Evil Spell, The Love of Don Perlimpin, The Puppet Play of Don Christóbal, The Shoemaker's Wonderful Wife and When Five Years Pass.
The second volume of Lorca plays printed by Methuen contains rather less well known plays than the first. They span over fifteen years of writing, from the very beginning of Lorca's career to the end of his life, and cover a wide range of degrees of naturalism and surrealism; yet their unity of tone is quite remarkable.
The Butterfly's Evil Spell was Lorca's first play, produced while he was still a student in Madrid in 1920. It's characters are all insects (which was one reason for the play's hostile reception). It tells of the love of Sylvia (representing feminine beauty) for the poet Boybeetle (representing idealistic youth). But he has fallen for the Butterly, who has fallen, injured, into the world of ground-living insects. She seems to represent the idealistic and unattainable world that youth yearns for. The theme of the shadow of death falling over the young as they age, a major part of Lorca's work even at this early period, is represented by the transient fireflies, the threatening Scorpion and the dying butterfly who will still separate Sylvia and Boybeetle. The play shows distinct traces of one of Lorca's major influences, the plays of Maeterlink, particularly The Blue Bird which has a closely related plot.
The Shoemaker's Wonderful Wife also deals with the contrast of youth and old age, here in the context of the traditional farce plot of an old man married to a young woman. The henpecked showmaker and childless, flirtatious wife don't fit in and so are objects of ridicule in their small town, a microcosm of the narrow-minded Spanish culture in which Lorca lived and where he had to keep his homosexuality a close secret. By the second act, things are even worse; the shoemaker, disheartened by his continual failure to satisfy his wife's desires and expectations, leaves; she ends up in the socially unacceptable position of running an inn to make ends meet. Yet, contrary to the prurient beliefs of the town, she remains faithful to his memory. This allows Lorca to make important points about the true meaning of honour, another major theme of his, particularly the contrast between public reputation and private virtue.
The old man and the young wife appear again in the next play in the set (actually slightly earlier chronologically), which has the full title The Love of Don Perlimpín and Belisa in the Garden: An Erotic Print in Four Scenes. Belisa is married off by her mother, but even on her wedding night is unfaithful, receiving five lovers who represent all the races of the earth while Don Perlimpín is asleep. Once he becomes aware of his inability to satisfy the passions of his young wife, Don Perlimpín invents a young lover for her. When to save his honour he has to fight and kill the young man he himself is discovered dying in the garden; transcending his impotence, he has managed to become the man Belisa is longing for.
The Puppet Play of Don Cristóbal is an extremely short piece (under twenty pages) written for puppets manipulated by Lorca himself to allow an escape from the whims of actors, directors and impresarios and to continue a move away from the suffocating traditions of Spanish commercial theatre. The traditions of puppet theatre were more spontaneous, with a different more vernacular style of language referred to in the prologue as coming "fresh from the earth".
Don Cristóbal, a doctor, needs money to marry; he gains this by murdering and robbing a patient, presumably a parable based on Lorca's feelings about the real world's patient/doctor relationships. With this money, he buys Dona Rosita from her mother, only to find that she is not the pure chaste bride he hoped for.
When Five Years Pass is a surrealist play, whose bizarre characters include the football player, who never speaks, just smokes and embraces his girlfriend. It too is a play about youth and aging, about the end of idealism, about death even in the midst of life. None of the parts are named, which makes their nature seem more allegorical even than the characters in the other plays.
The young man, rejected by the girl, goes away for five years, rejecting in his turn the deperate advances of his secretary. The first act is mainly a conversation between the young man and the old man - another aspect of the young man - about the nature of memory. This is interrupted by the friend, advocate of a hedonist lifestyle (and yet another aspect of the young man). The second act tells the story of the five years from the point of view of the girl, knowing that her family destine her eventually to marry the young man. This part is about growing up, and the contrasting viewpoints seem to represent the different ways we have of understanding the world around us - as, I suppose, it is the nature of surrealist art to do.
Edition: Methuen
Review number: 108
This volume contains The Butterfly's Evil Spell, The Love of Don Perlimpin, The Puppet Play of Don Christóbal, The Shoemaker's Wonderful Wife and When Five Years Pass.
The second volume of Lorca plays printed by Methuen contains rather less well known plays than the first. They span over fifteen years of writing, from the very beginning of Lorca's career to the end of his life, and cover a wide range of degrees of naturalism and surrealism; yet their unity of tone is quite remarkable.
The Butterfly's Evil Spell was Lorca's first play, produced while he was still a student in Madrid in 1920. It's characters are all insects (which was one reason for the play's hostile reception). It tells of the love of Sylvia (representing feminine beauty) for the poet Boybeetle (representing idealistic youth). But he has fallen for the Butterly, who has fallen, injured, into the world of ground-living insects. She seems to represent the idealistic and unattainable world that youth yearns for. The theme of the shadow of death falling over the young as they age, a major part of Lorca's work even at this early period, is represented by the transient fireflies, the threatening Scorpion and the dying butterfly who will still separate Sylvia and Boybeetle. The play shows distinct traces of one of Lorca's major influences, the plays of Maeterlink, particularly The Blue Bird which has a closely related plot.
The Shoemaker's Wonderful Wife also deals with the contrast of youth and old age, here in the context of the traditional farce plot of an old man married to a young woman. The henpecked showmaker and childless, flirtatious wife don't fit in and so are objects of ridicule in their small town, a microcosm of the narrow-minded Spanish culture in which Lorca lived and where he had to keep his homosexuality a close secret. By the second act, things are even worse; the shoemaker, disheartened by his continual failure to satisfy his wife's desires and expectations, leaves; she ends up in the socially unacceptable position of running an inn to make ends meet. Yet, contrary to the prurient beliefs of the town, she remains faithful to his memory. This allows Lorca to make important points about the true meaning of honour, another major theme of his, particularly the contrast between public reputation and private virtue.
The old man and the young wife appear again in the next play in the set (actually slightly earlier chronologically), which has the full title The Love of Don Perlimpín and Belisa in the Garden: An Erotic Print in Four Scenes. Belisa is married off by her mother, but even on her wedding night is unfaithful, receiving five lovers who represent all the races of the earth while Don Perlimpín is asleep. Once he becomes aware of his inability to satisfy the passions of his young wife, Don Perlimpín invents a young lover for her. When to save his honour he has to fight and kill the young man he himself is discovered dying in the garden; transcending his impotence, he has managed to become the man Belisa is longing for.
The Puppet Play of Don Cristóbal is an extremely short piece (under twenty pages) written for puppets manipulated by Lorca himself to allow an escape from the whims of actors, directors and impresarios and to continue a move away from the suffocating traditions of Spanish commercial theatre. The traditions of puppet theatre were more spontaneous, with a different more vernacular style of language referred to in the prologue as coming "fresh from the earth".
Don Cristóbal, a doctor, needs money to marry; he gains this by murdering and robbing a patient, presumably a parable based on Lorca's feelings about the real world's patient/doctor relationships. With this money, he buys Dona Rosita from her mother, only to find that she is not the pure chaste bride he hoped for.
When Five Years Pass is a surrealist play, whose bizarre characters include the football player, who never speaks, just smokes and embraces his girlfriend. It too is a play about youth and aging, about the end of idealism, about death even in the midst of life. None of the parts are named, which makes their nature seem more allegorical even than the characters in the other plays.
The young man, rejected by the girl, goes away for five years, rejecting in his turn the deperate advances of his secretary. The first act is mainly a conversation between the young man and the old man - another aspect of the young man - about the nature of memory. This is interrupted by the friend, advocate of a hedonist lifestyle (and yet another aspect of the young man). The second act tells the story of the five years from the point of view of the girl, knowing that her family destine her eventually to marry the young man. This part is about growing up, and the contrasting viewpoints seem to represent the different ways we have of understanding the world around us - as, I suppose, it is the nature of surrealist art to do.
Friday, 21 August 1998
Ngaio Marsh: Swing, Brother, Swing (1949)
Edition: Fontana, 1974
Review number: 107
Another formulaic mystery from Ngaio Marsh. The jazz band setting gives this a rather thirties feel, though the band is clearly modelled on Spike Jones and the City Slickers rather than on a thirties act. IT features an eccentric peer, Lord Pastern & Bagot, who has periodic enthusiasms; his current hobby is jazz percussion. He persuades Breezy Bellairs to let him join "the Boys" on stage as a promotional stunt; this will end with a trick where Lord Pastern pretends to shoot the accordion player, Carlos Rivera. Needless to say, in the event, the trick goes wrong and someone has replaced the blank cartridge with (bizarrely) the unscrewed tip of a parasol, and this kills Rivera.
Such theatrical events gone wrong are the hackneyed currency of this type of novel; this one must be at least the third in which Marsh has used the trick and it would certainly not be the last.
Alleyn, as usual, manages to sort out the mystery, which has complications involving Rivera's courtship of Lord Pastern's stepdaughter, the identity of an "agony uncle" who signs himself G.P.F. ("Guide, Philosopher and Friend", nauseatingly enough) and the London drugs trade. The writing is competent, as usual for Marsh, but the hackneyed nature of the plotting drags down the book's standard to among the lesser of her creations.
Review number: 107
Another formulaic mystery from Ngaio Marsh. The jazz band setting gives this a rather thirties feel, though the band is clearly modelled on Spike Jones and the City Slickers rather than on a thirties act. IT features an eccentric peer, Lord Pastern & Bagot, who has periodic enthusiasms; his current hobby is jazz percussion. He persuades Breezy Bellairs to let him join "the Boys" on stage as a promotional stunt; this will end with a trick where Lord Pastern pretends to shoot the accordion player, Carlos Rivera. Needless to say, in the event, the trick goes wrong and someone has replaced the blank cartridge with (bizarrely) the unscrewed tip of a parasol, and this kills Rivera.
Such theatrical events gone wrong are the hackneyed currency of this type of novel; this one must be at least the third in which Marsh has used the trick and it would certainly not be the last.
Alleyn, as usual, manages to sort out the mystery, which has complications involving Rivera's courtship of Lord Pastern's stepdaughter, the identity of an "agony uncle" who signs himself G.P.F. ("Guide, Philosopher and Friend", nauseatingly enough) and the London drugs trade. The writing is competent, as usual for Marsh, but the hackneyed nature of the plotting drags down the book's standard to among the lesser of her creations.
Thursday, 20 August 1998
Marcel Proust: Swann's Way (1913)
Translation: C.K. Scott Moncrieff and Terence Kilmartin, 1981
Edition: Penguin, 1985
Review number: 106
Swann's Way (Au cote de chez Swann) is the first in Proust's monumental Remembrance of Things Past. This Penguin edition, of the whole novel in three volumes, is an updating of the famous English translation of C.K. Scott Moncrieff, rewritten to fit in with a new, greatly improved French edition prepared after Moncrieff's death.
The first part of Swann's Way, the introductory Overture, immediately immerses us in the intense, slightly strange (yet extremely French) world of the narrator. As the title of the sequence suggests, everything is couched as a reminiscence of the past, and is not presented in chronological order but as these memories occur to the narrator. We plunge into his adolescence, and then in the second part (Combray) his earlier childhood holidays are remembered (during the famous tea-soaked madeleine biscuit episode, where the taste prompts the memory). The title of the book comes from one of the two walks taken by the family, either towards the house of the Swanns, or toward Guermantes (The Guermantes Way being used for the title of a later volume).
The third part of this novel, Swann in Love, moves back again, to the time when Swann was a bachelor; the narrator couldn't possibly have known all of the feelings Swann had. It describes in great detail the infatuation Swann had for a young woman Odette of distinctly dubious reputation.
With Remembrance of Things Past, it's not the plot but the atmosphere which is important. The novel, in this translation, reads like a kind of gentle but sophisticated stream of consciousness; you are drawn into the world of the narrator and of Swann in the major section (though this is written in the third person). Proust uses a poetic desciptive method, where, in each small section of the text, words are used in a metaphical way all taken from a particular sensual art - music or painting for example. This is how the atmosphere is created; it's very clever, but also unobtrusive and effective.
Edition: Penguin, 1985
Review number: 106
Swann's Way (Au cote de chez Swann) is the first in Proust's monumental Remembrance of Things Past. This Penguin edition, of the whole novel in three volumes, is an updating of the famous English translation of C.K. Scott Moncrieff, rewritten to fit in with a new, greatly improved French edition prepared after Moncrieff's death.
The first part of Swann's Way, the introductory Overture, immediately immerses us in the intense, slightly strange (yet extremely French) world of the narrator. As the title of the sequence suggests, everything is couched as a reminiscence of the past, and is not presented in chronological order but as these memories occur to the narrator. We plunge into his adolescence, and then in the second part (Combray) his earlier childhood holidays are remembered (during the famous tea-soaked madeleine biscuit episode, where the taste prompts the memory). The title of the book comes from one of the two walks taken by the family, either towards the house of the Swanns, or toward Guermantes (The Guermantes Way being used for the title of a later volume).
The third part of this novel, Swann in Love, moves back again, to the time when Swann was a bachelor; the narrator couldn't possibly have known all of the feelings Swann had. It describes in great detail the infatuation Swann had for a young woman Odette of distinctly dubious reputation.
With Remembrance of Things Past, it's not the plot but the atmosphere which is important. The novel, in this translation, reads like a kind of gentle but sophisticated stream of consciousness; you are drawn into the world of the narrator and of Swann in the major section (though this is written in the third person). Proust uses a poetic desciptive method, where, in each small section of the text, words are used in a metaphical way all taken from a particular sensual art - music or painting for example. This is how the atmosphere is created; it's very clever, but also unobtrusive and effective.
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