Puck is a Help, Not a Hindrance, in "Midsummer Night"

     The second essay for Dr. Ford's Shakespeare class at Rogers State University; I enlisted the help of my friend and sometimes writing partner Ashland for proofreading. She pointed out that it wasn't all that helpful if the reader wasn't familiar with A Midsummer Night's Dream. But the instructions were a character sketch, so that's why it's written the way it is. 

     In William Shakespeare’s comedy A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the character of Robin Goodfellow, also known as Puck, is somewhat of a wild card among the fairies of the woods. But while his antics might perhaps be mischievous at times, overall he is a positive force.

     As an audience, we first meet him at the beginning of the second act, after the pairs of lovers run into the forest, and the tradesmen rehearse their play. His primary job is to be a servant of Oberon, and so one of his first speeches is exposition about the conflict between Oberon and Titania over the Indian changeling (II.1.18-31). We first learn of his rakish reputation from the anonymous fairy’s reply, “Are you not he that frights the maidens of the villagery?” (II.1.34-35). In addition to this, he spoils beer and milk, misleads travelers and greatly enjoys scaring unsuspecting people (II.1.36-39). Following a spat between the royal couple of faeriedom, Oberon sends Puck on an errand to retrieve a love potion: “Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again ere the leviathan can swim a league” (II.1.173-74). Demetrius and Helena have a spat of their own while Puck is on his errand, leading to romantic-hearted Oberon’s command to use it on Demetrius. Puck executes this duty well – in all except that he had the wrong patient: “Weeds of Athens he doth wear; this is he(my master said) despised the Athenian maid” (II.2.71-73).

     Lysander, by unhappy chance, spies Helena first on awaking instead of Hermia, and so they verbally spar for a while, mortifying Helena. But Puck, unimpressed with the rehearsal of “The Most Lamentable Comedy of Pyramus and Thisby”, and also possibly wanting to reward himself for obeying Oberon so precisely, sets an ass’s head on Bottom’s shoulders, for as he says, “I’ll be an auditor, an actor too perhaps, if I see cause” (III.1.74-75). This is harmless fun, really; but from a certain point of view would be hysterical. Further on in the third act’s first scene, Titania also having partaken the love-potion eyedrops, she falls instantly for Bottom, much to his confusion and her (later) humiliation. Puck gleefully reports all this to his master, only to find his mistake: “This is the woman; but this is not the man” (III.1.42). On watching Hermia rebuff Demetrius’s advances, Puck comments happily, “Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be!” (III.1.114-15) He has a point here: Lovers’ quarrels are amusing from a distance, because love is very foolish and makes you do stupid things. After a further battle of wits between all four of the human lovers, Puck defends himself as best he can: “Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook. Did not you tell me I should know the man by the Athenian garments he had on? And so far blameless proves my enterprise that I have ‘nointed an Athenian’s eyes; and so far am I glad it so did sort, as this their jangling I esteem a sport” (III.2.347-53). He then misleads Lysander and Demetrius in opposite directions lest they harm each other; and then upon reuniting everyone, applies the reversal charm to Lysander, restoring the proper order of things: “Jack shall have Jill, naught shall go ill; the man shall have his mate again, and all shall be well” (III.2.461-63).  Similarly, in the first scene of act four, Robin Goodfellow removes the ass’s head from Bottom at line 83: “Now when thou wak’st, with thine own fool’s eyes peep,” while at the same time Oberon is undoing the charm on Titania. So all ends well; well before the play ought to conclude. In order to fill that time, we get to see the mechanicals’ performance, snickering along with the royal audience at the players’ ineptitude.

     But then there is that epilogue which Puck delivers, which follows right on the heels of the “proper” close of the play. In this epilogue, Puck beings by saying “If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended – that you have but slumbered here while these visions did appear” (V.1.415-18). Given the noble response of Theseus to the play-within-the-play on V.1.210-11, “The best of this kind are bust shadows, and the worst no worse if imagination amend them,” it would seem that this is a reference to the actors of “Pryamus and Thisby”. But it could also apply to the sprites themselves; as the faeries throughout history, especially in Elizabethan times, were viewed with a mixture of appreciation and distrust for their temperamental practical jokes like the audience has just witnessed. So what he means by “shadows” is unclear; but he is polite regardless of who the apology is for. This apology continues in lines 421-26: “Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend. And as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends ere long.”

     Throughout the script Puck is a cheerful and merry presence, who is situated as to being in placed as an audiencial stand-in as – principally – an observer of the misunderstandings and disputes which arise. Puck also delivers highly quotable zingers such as “Lord, what fools these mortals be!.”; the ability to be snarky delivered with dry humor is a highly-prized skillset for characters to possess. He is prompt to fulfill the commands of his master to the utmost of his ability; tries not to play favorites in the changeling quarrel, and once he realized his error in mistaking Lysander for Demetrius, does all he can to rectify the situation. Indeed, after Theseus and Hippolyta’s marriage is blessed and both couples are back together again, he apologizes if the actions depicted offended anyone.

Works Cited

Shakespeare, William. A Midsummer Night’s Dream. 1595? Ed. Stephen Orgel and A.R. Braunmuller. William Shakespeare: The Complete Works. 258-284. New York: Penguin Books, 2004. Print. 

Language of Manipulation in Euridipes' "Medea"

      Third essay for Dr. Dial-Driver's Lit Traditions course at Rogers State University.

     Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. This is the type of phrase that has passed into public domain, more or less, and no one knows exactly where it originated. But whoever that was who coined the phrase, he might have been thinking about the character of Medea, the namesake and dominating force of one of Greek playwright Euridipes’ most well-known works. In her article for The American Journal of Philology, Melissa Mueller states that “Medea is a character that is adept at speaking many languages”. I will try to emphasize the importance of Medea’s use of persuasion and manipulation which brings about her revenge.

            To begin, some backstory is necessary, courtesy of the Medea preface in Penguin’s collection of Greek Tragedy: In the land of Thessaly, Pelias overthrew his brother Aeson to assume the kingship of the city of Iolchus, although mercifully sparing his brother’s life. Aeson’s son Jason is sent away for schooling from a centaur, returning to Thessaly some years later. An oracle had spoken to Pelias in the meantime, warning him to beware of a man wearing only one sandal. Jason lost a sandal while helping an elderly woman cross a river on his way to Iolchus, which was how Pelias knew that his nephew had returned; he volunteered to abdicate the throne, but only if Jason sucessfully gathered the Golden Fleece. So he sailed with the Argonauts, had many adventures, and eventually met a young princess/witch named Medea in the land of Colchis who fell in love with Jason and helped him retrieve the Golden Fleece. On returning to Iolchus, Medea’s sorcery tricked Pelias’s daughters into murdering their father via a faked rejuvenation potion Because of this element of foul play, the couple was banished and took up residence in Corinth with their two young sons (131-33).

      After living there apparently for some time, Jason has determined to wed the princess of Corinth in order to raise his future descendants’ standing within the city, as he reasons in lines 913-17. This greatly angers Medea; and so she sets out to break his heart. And since she is an extremely persuasive woman, as well as ruthless, this is an extremely frightening spectacle. She gives a long speech from lines 222-62 on Jason’s cruelties and laments the state of women in Greek society, which Mueller describes as “presenting herself as a woman like any other, but with fewer resources” (471). The Chorus, representing the women of the city, loyally declares in lines 412-13 that “deceit is men’s device now, men’s oaths are gods’ dishonor.” Writing about two thousand years later, William Shakespeare says much the same thing in Balthasar’s song in Much Ado About Nothing, as “Men were deceivers ever/One foot in sea, and one on shore/To one thing constant never” (II.3.61-63).  Creon banishes Medea from Corinth because he is afraid of her (287-91), and she responds by playing up the fact that she is a woman – and furthermore, a woman without male protection – and so would be considered helpless (304-08). In his Classical Philology article, Brad Levett comments that this “is a characteristic that aligns well with Greek assumptions concerning the deceptive nature of women” (54). And since the average Athenian was expected to be persuaded when it was beneficial or likely right (Levett 57), Aegeus agrees to safeguard Medea in Athens if she provides him with children (712-22). So in this exchange she adopts a businesslike, masculine attitude in order to gain a sanctuary. In lines 868-93, Medea gives a long monologue to Jason seeming to apologize for her earlier furious behavior, but this manipulative speech really just sets up her devious gift-giving to Creon’s daughter.01

As Simon Goldhill notes in his introduction to Penguin’s Greek Tragedy, “every scene in the play involves Medea persuading someone” (xxvii). Shakespeare’s Much Ado prominently features Beatrice, another talkative female caught in a societal situation she cannot remedy.  She rails at men’s reluctance to avenge the honor of women under their charge, ending with “I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving” (IV.1.320-21). Unlike Beatrice’s wish that Claudio die, Medea prefers that Jason should live, in order that his heart may be ripped out of his chest as he suffers humiliations galore, to paraphrase Rob Reiner’s movie The Princess Bride. Goldhill says that Medea “is female but speaks and acts as a man, indeed like a hero, an Achilles wholly committed to honor and revenge” (xxviii). Because these murders occur indirectly, that adds exponentially to Jason’s grief, as he will be forever tormented by what-ifs and brooding over what might have been done differently.

      One of her final lines is comes at line 1363, where she says “My pain is a fair price to wipe away your smile”. The line from “understandable vengeance” to “inhuman monstrosity” has obviously been crossed somewhere along the line, which is unsettling. Goldhill writes that her “bizarre and extreme feminine character” make her a problem for every character she meets, and also for audience to deal with (xxviii). Maybe what she represents - besides the obvious example of taking a concept way farther than recommended – is to serve a warning against trusting the motives of others at face value, or even simply the fact that life is unexpected. The Chorus closes with “Many the fates which Zeus in Olympus dispenses; many matters the gods bring to surprising ends. The things we thought would happen do not happen; the unforeseen the gods make possible, and such is the conclusion of this story” (1415-19).         

Works Cited

Euridipes. Medea. 431 B.C. Trans. Philip Vellacott. 137-182. Greek Tragedy. New York: Penguin Books, 2004. Print.

Goldhill, Simon. “Introduction”. Greek Tragedy. xiii-xxxiii. New York: Penguin Books, 2004. Print.

Levett, Brad. “Verbal Autonomy and Verbal Restraint in Euripides’ Medea.” Classical Philology 105.1 (Jan 2010): 54-68. JSTOR. Web. 21 October 2015.

Mueller, Melissa. “The Language of Reciprocity in Euridipes’ Medea.” The American Journal of Philology 122.4 (Winter 2001): 471-504. JSTOR. Web. 21 October 2015.

“Preface to Medea.” Greek Tragedy. 131-135. New York: Penguin Books, 2004. Print.

Shakespeare, William. Much Ado About Nothing. 1599? William Shakespeare: The Complete Works. Ed. Stephen Orgel and A.R. Braunmuller. 371-400. New York: Penguin Books, 2002. Print. 

To Beatrice

     In Act V, Scene II of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, Benedick complains that he can't write poetry, after writing some terrible verses to Beatrice before their wedding(Margaret the maid likes them, though). I needed something to use as a sonnet for workshopping for Poetry Writing, and besides, I couldn't figure out the iambic pentameter rhythm required for sonnets. Also, I've always wanted to read Benedick's poem. And writing it myself would allow me to finally read it, have something for classmates to critique, and get the concept of the meter explained in depth. Critiques thought it was wildly ambitious to write in Elizabethan English and still make sense; their reactions were generally stunned anyone would attempt that. Several people commented that they have "no idea what to expect" when it comes to my poetry, but that "it's always so heartfelt" they don't mind being kept off balance that way. That was cool. Even better was when a middle-aged lady said that it seemed like something her dad would enjoy. (She meant that as a compliment, which is how I took it.)

Dear one, Beatrice, of my heart’s desire

though I said ere I would be married never,

mayhap be in heaven an angel choir

bade me fall for yonder tongue so clever;

with a clamor my wits encount’red scorn,

of running amiss of such a rank’d lady;

plus fear for wearing the cuckold’s horn,

halted me – but Love arrayed as a baby

gather’d myself to gentle warfare’s school;

wherein I learn’d all which becomes her knight.

My jeers at others I now repent; mere fool

am I for jesting at such a noble plight!

Born not I beneath a rhyming star!

In but others’ words thy praise goes afar.

Rags' Sonnet

     A practice sonnet. Which oddly fits the rhythm of Taylor Swift's song "Forever and Always". I was missing Rags when I wrote this.

Once upon a time,

there was this wonderful bookcase

where a tortoiseshell feline

would sit to wash her face.

She’d scrub herself so clean,

and for good measure, her throne of rule;

she cleared dust specks you’ve never seen

for when her Favorite Person came home from school

there would be no trace of mice,

and he could sit and read,

pet her(yes, that would be nice),

since that’s what all students need.

Yes, the best naps that one could ever spend

are those from a “Wesley’s home!” weekend. 

How Gender Roles Affect "Much Ado" Characters

     The second essay for Lit Traditions. It scored an 85 before revisions; I think because I forgot to write a conclusion. But it was also written very late at night with next to zero sleep at the end of a week of doing the same thing ad infinitum because of a ton of projects. So I was like "Okay, I'll take that." (It's a very intimidating and intense course.)

         William Shakespeare was a master of wordplay; puns and double meanings. Much Ado About Nothing is possibly the best example of this; as the entire play revolves around conflicts caused by miscommunication errors. A civil war between brothers has just concluded, and Leonato, governor of Messina, invites the victorious Don Pedro, together with Benedick, Claudio and the rest of their party, to stay as Leonato’s guests for a month. The vanquished Don John is also of this group; with his attendants/conspirators Borachio and Conrade. What follows is much trickery and deceptive means to accomplish aims; eventually resulting in a double wedding for the couples of Benedick and Beatrice and Claudio and Hero. This is a Shakespearean comedy, so it must naturally end this way. But as Lysander said in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, “the course of true love never did run smooth” (I.1.134; page 260). Many of these rocky difficulties on the road to love can be traced to gender differences and roles.

            Beatrice and Benedick have had a relationship in the past, from her words to Don Pedro in Act II, Scene 1, lines 263-66. In the first scene of the play, this is made even clearer in lines 138-39, as she says, “You always end with a jade’s trick. I know you of old.” In a critical look at this backstory, Joost Daalder states that Benedick “refused to commit himself when he really needed to do so” (“Pre-History” 524). So he bolted when she was ready to commit to a steady relationship; which is why she guards her heart so fiercely on his return.

            But during the war, Benedick and Claudio struck up a deep friendship, for, as Bruce R. Smith writes in his book Shakespeare and Masculinity, men need friends in order to accomplish tasks they would be unable to perform otherwise, (60). Things like winning a war, for example. So their friendship is firmly fixed by the opening of the curtain, so says A.D. Nuttall’s book Shakespeare the Thinker (222). Once Claudio falls in love with Hero, he naively assumes that Benedick will as well. That bond is beginning to crack.  

            Brothers Don Pedro and Don John are both isolated throughout the play, Peter Holland notes in the Much Ado introduction of the Penguin Complete Works, and they continue their sibling rivalry in their plots dealing with the Claudio/Hero item (page 367). Once this is broken up through the acting of Borachio and Margaret; then Claudio brutally rejects Hero while at the altar. This unwillingness to commit echoes the earlier Benedick behavior we heard snatches of; since both men promised love to a young woman who takes that promise very seriously; and yet they do not follow through because of fear of giving up their independence and emotional control (Daalder 526). I would certainly worry, if I was involved with a beautiful girl of many virtues, that she would be stolen away. There are so many horror stories of unfaithfulness out there, it is a natural response. This is likely why all throughout the script Don Pedro teases Benedick about marrying someday.

            As Holland noted on page 367, the friar’s plot to cause Claudio to mourn over his actions that is detailed in IV.1.223-36 does not work out as planned. But yet Hero still marries him; perhaps because she knows that it represents her best chance at being wed? Or it could be to make Leonato happy, echoing her cousin’s words in II.1.50, while she curtsies and says, “Father, as it please you”. As a female in that Elizabethan society, despite the country being ruled by a queen, it was a woman’s place to obey all that the nearby men ordered, in order to make certain that she was protected. That power of rule and headship is handed over on the wedding day by the bride’s father allowing her to marry; where once that ceremony is performed her husband is her master. Hero is so obedient and dutiful that we can forget she still exists; never do we see her contradict a man or disobey his wishes. Because she cannot physically flee from the aborted wedding, she faints away, thus removing herself from the indecent spectacle while remaining “ladylike” and not judged to be guilty.

            In the aftermath of that debacle, Beatrice puts her acidic tongue to use by a slashing out of anger and a rush of other emotions if anyone connected with Claudio comes near, starting from Act IV, Scene 1, line 255 with Benedick’s entrance and continuing until the end of that scene about eighty lines later. She wails that she wishes she were not a woman, so that she could avenge Hero’s shame by killing Claudio, since that is a man’s office. So because the tongue is the feminine war tool, and she a skillful master fencer with it, she gets Benedick to come to a decision with line 288: “Then kill Claudio.” That is an ultimatum, honestly; saying, “Put your actions now where your mouth is, or cause us both grief by turning away.” After his initial disbelief at what he had just heard, in line 329 Benedick chooses to promote the needs of his future mate over those of a comrade-in-arms, which is in a sense to put his family over his work. Accepting that weighty responsibility is a mark of manliness; which is much more than just masculinity he has shown up until now. In Act V, Scene 1, he then confronts the immature Claudio and leaves the service of Don Pedro, cementing his decision to move on into a new stage of life.  Though he is undeserving of such grace, Leonato nevertheless blackmails Claudio into marrying Hero, so the audience sighs with pleasure at the neat bow which has wrapped everything together. But Claudio’s action by doing the honorable thing is rewarded, as he receives the one he wished for.

Works Cited

Daalder, Joost. “The ‘Pre-History’ of Beatrice and Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing.” English Studies 85.6(2004): 520-527. Literary Reference Center. Web. 1 Oct. 2015.

Holland, Peter. “Introduction to Much Ado About Nothing.” William Shakespeare: The Complete Works. Ed. Stephen Orgel and A.R. Braunmuller. P.p. 365-370. New York: Penguin Books, 2002. Print.

Nuttall, A.D. Shakespeare the Thinker. P. 222. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2007. Print.

Shakespeare, William. A Midsummer Night’s Dream. William Shakespeare: The Complete Works. Ed. Stephen Orgel and A.R. Braunmuller. P.p. 258-284. New York: Penguin Books, 2002. Print.

--------------------------. Much Ado About Nothing. 1599? William Shakespeare: The Complete Works. Ed. Stephen Orgel and A.R. Braunmuller. P.p. 371-400. New York: Penguin Books, 2002. Print.

Smith, Bruce R. Shakespeare and Masculinity. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. Print.