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Apr. 28th, 2008 03:29 pmWe talked more about Lear in my Shakespeare class this morning, and the prof confirmed that no, you really can't sympathize with Lear in the first couple acts, he really is kind of a crazy asshole. So.
The thing about the production I saw last week is that Lear never really redeemed himself from being a crazy asshole. PICT's Lear (Pittsburgh Irish and Classical Theatre) became an infantile, comic madman. When he met Edgar as Poor Tom and asked "Does he have daughters?" it broke the audience up. That line . . . somehow I think that line should not be that funny. Lear's madness should have some nobility to it, surely, shouldn't it? Otherwise how is this a tragedy? Laughing at the mad is not noble; it is not pity or fear, but ridicule. That's comedy.
This was especially evident next to Edgar. Oh, oh, Edgar. Edgar was by far the best part of the production. Poor Tom had his comic moments too, of course, playing off the insistently comedic Lear and Fool, but -- but -- Poor Tom's a-cold. Oh. (I suppose it helped a little that the actor, in loincloth and nothing else, was pretty damn ripped. Rowr. But anyway.)
There was one moment in particular, I think after Gloucester's supposed fall from the cliffs, when Lear comes in maaaad as a hatter and babbles at Gloucester for a while. Gloucester's kneeling there in Lear's arms, weeping at the state his king has come to, while Lear rambles obliviously on (production shot) -- and Edgar, in the background, was staring at his father and his king brought low, and the quiet shock and sadness on his face -- god, my heart broke.
I think I have a Thing for Shakespeare's wronged but honorable children. Malcolm; Edgar and Cordelia; Ophelia and Hamlet, and even Laertes; Rosalind and Celia; Hermia; Hero; of course, Romeo and Juliet. Cursed and abused and forced into untenable situations, thrown out of their families -- yet they bear up. Or when they don't, their fall is the most painful of all.
ETA: Hey, I'm working with Schwag on Twelfth Night this summer! Awesome!
ETA2: Bwahaha -- link stolen from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
catch22girl: Baby Got Books.
As filk, it's mediocre, but I think I have to love a rhyme like 'Cause I'm glossy, and I'm saucy / And I'm down to be your Mr. Darcy.
The thing about the production I saw last week is that Lear never really redeemed himself from being a crazy asshole. PICT's Lear (Pittsburgh Irish and Classical Theatre) became an infantile, comic madman. When he met Edgar as Poor Tom and asked "Does he have daughters?" it broke the audience up. That line . . . somehow I think that line should not be that funny. Lear's madness should have some nobility to it, surely, shouldn't it? Otherwise how is this a tragedy? Laughing at the mad is not noble; it is not pity or fear, but ridicule. That's comedy.
This was especially evident next to Edgar. Oh, oh, Edgar. Edgar was by far the best part of the production. Poor Tom had his comic moments too, of course, playing off the insistently comedic Lear and Fool, but -- but -- Poor Tom's a-cold. Oh. (I suppose it helped a little that the actor, in loincloth and nothing else, was pretty damn ripped. Rowr. But anyway.)
There was one moment in particular, I think after Gloucester's supposed fall from the cliffs, when Lear comes in maaaad as a hatter and babbles at Gloucester for a while. Gloucester's kneeling there in Lear's arms, weeping at the state his king has come to, while Lear rambles obliviously on (production shot) -- and Edgar, in the background, was staring at his father and his king brought low, and the quiet shock and sadness on his face -- god, my heart broke.
I think I have a Thing for Shakespeare's wronged but honorable children. Malcolm; Edgar and Cordelia; Ophelia and Hamlet, and even Laertes; Rosalind and Celia; Hermia; Hero; of course, Romeo and Juliet. Cursed and abused and forced into untenable situations, thrown out of their families -- yet they bear up. Or when they don't, their fall is the most painful of all.
ETA: Hey, I'm working with Schwag on Twelfth Night this summer! Awesome!
ETA2: Bwahaha -- link stolen from
catch22girl: Baby Got Books.As filk, it's mediocre, but I think I have to love a rhyme like 'Cause I'm glossy, and I'm saucy / And I'm down to be your Mr. Darcy.
