Bardisms.

by Barry Edelstein.

INTRODUCTION

O let my books be then the eloquence...-SONNET 23.9 23.9

Some years ago I was called upon to speak in public at a number of big life moments that took place over the course of a short span of months. Two of my best friends got married, and I toasted them. I got married, and I spoke at engagement parties, in the ceremony itself, and in a toast to my bride at the reception. I stepped down from a long-held post, and I saluted my staff and supporters. I roasted a colleague at a sw.a.n.k party for a watershed birthday, and I eulogized a dear family friend at a quiet memorial service.

Casting about for inspiration as I prepared my remarks for each event, I turned immediately to a volume that's been at the heart of my professional career for nearly two decades. That tome is Western literature's greatest repository of wit, wisdom, solace, spiritual nourishment, poetic uplift, psychological insight, emotional pa.s.sion, poetic virtuosity, and just plain beautiful writing: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare The Complete Works of William Shakespeare.

The Bard didn't let me down. Through my work directing, writing about, and teaching him, I knew his canon pretty well cold. But I was dazzled to find the incredible number of pa.s.sages in his plays and poems that seemed tailor-made for celebrations, personal milestones, and just about every one of life's big moments. Shakespeare, I was relieved and delighted to discover, is pitch-perfect for all occasions.

Soon I'd collected Shakespeare quotations for my various needs.

For my best friend and his bride, whose love for one another struck me as uncommonly deep, I talked about this line from As You Like It As You Like It: "My love hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal." (I explained that in Shakespeare's day, the Bay of Portugal was thought to be the deepest body of water on Earth, so any love that's like it must be pretty darned deep.) At a religious ceremony the weekend before my wedding, during which the story of Noah was read from the Bible, I commented on the amazing fact that there's a line in Shakespeare that actually talks about both weddings and also old Noah himself (it's in As You Like It As You Like It as well, when Jaques the cynic encounters a gathering of three betrothed pairs and says: "There is, sure, another flood toward, and these couples are coming to the ark"). as well, when Jaques the cynic encounters a gathering of three betrothed pairs and says: "There is, sure, another flood toward, and these couples are coming to the ark").

At my colleague's fiftieth birthday party, I rea.s.sured him with this line from Sonnet 104: "To me, fair friend, you never can be old."

And at my family friend's funeral, I shared this beautiful pa.s.sage from the little-known play Cymbeline Cymbeline: Fear no more the heat o' the sun,Nor the furious winter's rages;Thou thy worldly task hast done,Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:Golden lads and girls all must,As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

In the years since that run of toasts and tributes, I've quoted Shakespeare on even more varied occasions, sometimes when speaking in public, but just as often when sending a note or even when simply musing to myself: On the occasion of my parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary: "The benediction of these covering heavens / Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthy / To inlay heaven with stars!"

On the occasion of a magnificent sunrise over Joshua Tree National Park: "But look, the morn in russet mantle clad / Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill."

On the occasion of hearing a grandmother tell her grandson not to eat so fast: "With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder."

And on the occasion of my G.o.dson's bris bris: "This was the most unkindest cut of all."

Before long, people who had heard me wax Shakespearean on some occasion or other began to call or e-mail me for advice.

Hey Barry, I've also got to give a toast at a friend's wedding. Is there a good Shakespeare quote you can send my way?

Yikes! I have to make a presentation in front of the whole company at a product launch next week. Got any Shakespeare for me?

Baz, I went out with a really great girl last night and I totally fell for her. I want to send her an e-mail asking her out on another date. Can you shoot me some good Shakesey that'll really blow her away?

I had a great time answering every request.

Shakespeare for the Occasion of a Wedding? Try Sonnet 116, the nuptial cla.s.sic: "Let me not to the marriage of true minds / Admit impediments."

Shakespeare for the Occasion of a Pep Talk? Lots of great choices. Check out "There is a tide in the affairs of men / Which taken at the flood leads on to fortune," from Julius Caesar Julius Caesar, or "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers," from Henry V Henry V.

Shakespeare for the Occasion of Seeking a Second Date? Here's a good one from The Tempest The Tempest: "I would not wish / Any companion in the world but you."

Fielding countless such requests, and dispatching hundreds of lines of Shakespeare to family, friends, and acquaintances from all over who were in the midst of life events of every kind, it occurred to me that what I was doing was something that Shakespeare himself would have recognized. There's a moment in Hamlet Hamlet when the eponymous prince, thunderstruck at the discovery that his seemingly charming and gregarious uncle is in fact a fratricidal maniac, decides to write down that piece of information for future reference: "My tables," he cries, referring to his tablebook, a kind of Elizabethan notepad, when the eponymous prince, thunderstruck at the discovery that his seemingly charming and gregarious uncle is in fact a fratricidal maniac, decides to write down that piece of information for future reference: "My tables," he cries, referring to his tablebook, a kind of Elizabethan notepad, My tables-meet it is I set it downThat one may smile and smile and be a villain.At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark.

Modern audiences chuckle at the odd sight of a man who's just met his father's ghost taking the time to jot down the general life lesson he's learned in the process. But audiences in the Renaissance wouldn't have found the behavior the least bit peculiar. They, like Hamlet, routinely took note of epigrams and aphorisms, memorable turns of phrase, and other useful bits and bobs of knowledge encountered in their reading or their lives. They collected these linguistic cuttings, organized into categories, in sc.r.a.pbooks called Commonplace Books, a "commonplace" being any adage, axiom, or maxim that seemed to express some pearl of wisdom about some universal human condition or situation. The English Renaissance, a period when the cla.s.sical profundities of the sage ancients were revered as the highest possible cultural values, was the heyday of these books. They were regarded as so essential to living a properly intellectual life that the technique of keeping a good Commonplace Book was taught in school, and they were so beloved that they became a literary subgenre, and eminent scholars and gentlemen often published theirs to benefit the wider reading public.

Many Commonplace Books from the period survive. They share a conspicuous and striking feature: the author most frequently quoted-seventy-nine times in one particular book-is none other than William Shakespeare. Even in his own day, the Bard was recognized as the leading author of language that renders pithily all the immense size and scope and feeling and sweep of the human experience. When the stakes are as high as they ever get, the emotions as turbulent, and the psychic strain as immense-when we learn that our uncle murdered our father, say-no normal utterance, no mere quotidian language, can express our state. Such times demand something of an entirely different magnitude: the immensity and scale of Shakespeare. His is a sensibility at the human frontier; his, an imagination that holds fast the wildest intangibles; his, a language capable of expressing in finite terms those outsized, amorphous, jumbled storms that shake and roil a human heart under duress. And his, a literary technique and writerly skill that can condense all this into a few lines.

Call them Bardisms Bardisms. Shakespeare's bite-sized quotes for the outsized human occasion.

Bardisms: Shakespeare for All Occasions is my contribution to the Commonplace Book tradition. Inspired by all those friends to whom I've sent Shakespeare quotes over the years, its aim is to enhance public discourse and enrich private reflection with a compilation in one place of Shakespeare's many grand thoughts on life's special moments. is my contribution to the Commonplace Book tradition. Inspired by all those friends to whom I've sent Shakespeare quotes over the years, its aim is to enhance public discourse and enrich private reflection with a compilation in one place of Shakespeare's many grand thoughts on life's special moments.

A few words about how Bardisms: Shakespeare for All Occasions Bardisms: Shakespeare for All Occasions is organized, and how it might be useful. is organized, and how it might be useful.

This book's purpose is not only to gather and present Shakespeare's choicest observations on myriad human affairs, but also to provide concrete tools for using them in remarks both written and delivered aloud. Its simple pointers, drawn from my many years' experience as a teacher and director of Shakespeare's plays, are easy enough for anyone to apply and are explained in terms basic enough for anyone to understand. These tips help unlock the mysteries of Shakespeare's text, lifting the veil of obscurity from his words and making his writing feel as fresh and vital as this morning's newspaper. Bardisms Bardisms will foster a sense of ownership of Shakespeare's words and a new appreciation for the wide variety of his writing, turning it into a natural frame of reference not only for countless special life moments but also for the stuff of the everyday. The book is meant to inspire confidence that you can quote this celebrated and wonderful writer without sounding phony, dilettantish, or the least bit c.o.c.kamamie. will foster a sense of ownership of Shakespeare's words and a new appreciation for the wide variety of his writing, turning it into a natural frame of reference not only for countless special life moments but also for the stuff of the everyday. The book is meant to inspire confidence that you can quote this celebrated and wonderful writer without sounding phony, dilettantish, or the least bit c.o.c.kamamie.

Bardisms is designed for ease of use. After this introduction comes "Seven Steps to Shipshape Shakespeare," a survey of the basic techniques that professional theater artists use to achieve immediate clarity with Shakespeare's text, and which the average reader can apply to the same end. Next is the heart of the book: Shakespearean pa.s.sages about dozens of life occasions, explicated. The book sticks to the practical Shakespeare, a writer who talks about the regular things that make up daily life. It eschews, for the most part, the ruminative Shakespeare, the poetical thinker about broad or abstract concepts. Thus you'll find Shakespeare for the Occasion of a Funeral, words applicable to a real-life situation, but not Shakespeare for the Fate of the Eternal Soul, philosophical meditations on an ineffable human concern. (That stuff will come in this book's sequel!) is designed for ease of use. After this introduction comes "Seven Steps to Shipshape Shakespeare," a survey of the basic techniques that professional theater artists use to achieve immediate clarity with Shakespeare's text, and which the average reader can apply to the same end. Next is the heart of the book: Shakespearean pa.s.sages about dozens of life occasions, explicated. The book sticks to the practical Shakespeare, a writer who talks about the regular things that make up daily life. It eschews, for the most part, the ruminative Shakespeare, the poetical thinker about broad or abstract concepts. Thus you'll find Shakespeare for the Occasion of a Funeral, words applicable to a real-life situation, but not Shakespeare for the Fate of the Eternal Soul, philosophical meditations on an ineffable human concern. (That stuff will come in this book's sequel!) Quotations are presented in rough chronological life order, as organized by the categories in one of the most famous of all Shakespearean speeches: the "Seven Ages of Man," from As You Like It As You Like It. Thus, Chapter One, "At First, the Infant," includes Shakespeare on the occasions of birth and the subject of family. Chapter Two, "Then the Schoolboy," presents Shakespeare for life occasions related to youth, education, recreation, and holidays. Chapter Three, "And Then the Lover," comprises material on love, courtship, marriage, and weddings. Chapter Four, "Then a Soldier," considers Shakespeare for martial occasions, as well as those of our professional years, such as work, confrontations, reputations, winning, and losing. Chapter Five, "And Then the Justice," includes occasions on which the Justice described in the "Seven Ages" would be full of opinions: middle age, wit, boredom, grat.i.tude, apologies, and parties. Chapter Six, "The Lean and Slippered Pantaloon," mines Shakespeare's thoughts on the issues of old age: retirement, health and medicine, grandparenthood, and so forth. Finally, Chapter Seven, "Mere Oblivion," focuses on how Shakespeare views the occasions of life's final phase, including death, funerals, memorials, and the loss of loved ones. Each chapter opens with a close reading of the apposite lines from the "Seven Ages of Man," along with some observations on what they can add to our appreciation of the phase of life they survey.

The Shakespearean excerpts in the book vary in length from a few words to a few dozen lines, and the selections draw upon almost all of Shakespeare's plays and poems, providing a broad overview of the range of genres, styles, and modes in which he wrote, the more to appreciate his works and his genius. Each excerpted pa.s.sage is accompanied by a commentary made up of some combination of three discrete sections. The first, "In Other Words," translates Shakespeare into accessible and easy-to-understand modern English. Next, "How to Say It" or "How to Use It" offers a bulleted list of tips that show how to apply the techniques from the "Seven Steps to Shipshape Shakespeare" to the specific text in question. This section sometimes also recommends ways to frame a given excerpt with brief introductory remarks, and in many cases suggests how to use it elegantly in written communication. When a given Shakespeare quote includes language specific to the dramatic situation in the play from which it's taken-proper names, gendered language, and so on-"How to Say It" suggests minor textual adaptations that can widen the excerpt's range of applicability.

The third section following each entry is called "Some Details," and it explores provocative historical or literary insights into the text under review. These cover a wide swath, from some technical aspect of Shakespeare's writing present in the quoted lines to contextual information about the play in which the pa.s.sage appears, an examination of illuminating particulars from Shakespeare's life and times, or a discussion of what eminent readers have thought about questions raised by the lines. In short, this part of the commentary delves into the sublime and the ridiculous in Shakespeare: material that can be useful, surprising, amusing, or just plain silly. The information in "Some Details" can help add nuance and dimension to your use of Shakespeare for the occasions of your life, but even if you're not planning to quote him at your niece's confirmation or your neighbor's housewarming, "Some Details" shows how endlessly fascinating he is and how much fun delving into the Bard and his works really can be.

Two indexes make both the Shakespearean excerpts and the commentary easy to search for subjects and occasions of interest.

All the Bard in this book is taken from The Norton Shakespeare The Norton Shakespeare, Stephen Greenblatt, editor, which I regard as the best single-volume edition of the plays and poems now in print. Citations give the speaker's name, the play's name, and the relevant act, scene, and line numbers in the format act.scene.line act.scene.line. (For example, "Messenger, Much Ado About Nothing Much Ado About Nothing, 1.1.40" means the quoted text appears at Act 1, Scene 1, line 40 of Much Ado Much Ado, and is spoken by the Messenger.) The Norton Shakespeare The Norton Shakespeare is based in large part on is based in large part on The Oxford Shakespeare The Oxford Shakespeare, a cutting-edge and quite controversial 1986 edition of the Complete Works Complete Works. Despite its overall excellence, the Oxford Oxford is marred by a sometimes unbridled revisionist spirit, and it makes some idiosyncratic choices-changes in characters' names, changes in t.i.tles of plays, omissions of cherished pa.s.sages-all b.u.t.tressed by careful and sound scholarship, but all regarded as wildly iconoclastic in the very conservative world of Shakespeare studies. The is marred by a sometimes unbridled revisionist spirit, and it makes some idiosyncratic choices-changes in characters' names, changes in t.i.tles of plays, omissions of cherished pa.s.sages-all b.u.t.tressed by careful and sound scholarship, but all regarded as wildly iconoclastic in the very conservative world of Shakespeare studies. The Norton Norton editors took note of the backlash against the editors took note of the backlash against the Oxford Oxford's aggressive idiosyncrasies and retreated from the most excessive examples. But The Norton Shakespeare The Norton Shakespeare still retains some readings that would disorient the non-specialist public, and so when I've quoted a Bardism that the still retains some readings that would disorient the non-specialist public, and so when I've quoted a Bardism that the Norton Norton renders in some unfamiliar way, I've taken the liberty of silently reverting to a less alienating form. renders in some unfamiliar way, I've taken the liberty of silently reverting to a less alienating form.

One of the things about Bardisms that make them so much fun to quote is that they can sometimes seem to turn Shakespeare into an expert on things that weren't even invented during his lifetime. That is, because a Bardism lifts Shakespeare's lines out of their proper surroundings in the rest of Shakespeare's plays or poetry, a Bardism can make Shakespeare say things he never said. An example: I determined when my daughter was born that she'd start hearing Shakespeare from the moment she got home from the hospital.* In her first weeks, a lot of my bonding time with her came at the changing table, so I started looking for a Bardism on the subject. I discovered that the word In her first weeks, a lot of my bonding time with her came at the changing table, so I started looking for a Bardism on the subject. I discovered that the word diaper diaper appears exactly once in Shakespeare, in the rarely performed prologue to appears exactly once in Shakespeare, in the rarely performed prologue to The Taming of the Shrew The Taming of the Shrew. There, the word is used in its Elizabethan sense, as a synonym for "napkin" (some servants discuss what they'll provide for their lord when he sits down to dinner, and they note that he'll need a basin in which to wash his hands, and a diaper with which to dry them). I knew I wouldn't find Pampers Pampers in the canon, so I did some lateral thinking and searched for Bardisms on the general subject of in the canon, so I did some lateral thinking and searched for Bardisms on the general subject of change change. At last I found this line, spoken by Iago in Act 1, Scene 3 of Oth.e.l.lo Oth.e.l.lo: "She must have change, she must!"

In its native dramatic context, this line has nothing to do with diapers, of course. It is Iago's slimy She's Gotta Have It She's Gotta Have It insinuation that Oth.e.l.lo's wife, Desdemona, cannot help but betray her husband by sleeping with Ca.s.sio, then Roderigo, then every other man in town. After all, Iago argues, Desdemona's from Venice, a city known for the expertise of its prost.i.tutes and the near-nymphomaniacal l.u.s.ts of its young women. So she must have new s.e.xual partners. She insinuation that Oth.e.l.lo's wife, Desdemona, cannot help but betray her husband by sleeping with Ca.s.sio, then Roderigo, then every other man in town. After all, Iago argues, Desdemona's from Venice, a city known for the expertise of its prost.i.tutes and the near-nymphomaniacal l.u.s.ts of its young women. So she must have new s.e.xual partners. She must must.

Standing over my sweet, innocent babe at 3:00 A.M. A.M., elbow deep in diaper ointment and wipes, was I somehow insulting her virtue by quoting the nefarious Iago? Obviously not. One of the ways Shakespeare manages to speak to all occasions is by virtue of having survived long enough to address them. In every new generation and every new cultural circ.u.mstance, he slips the surly bonds of dramatic context and morphs into new shapes he never could have imagined. And as we'll see many times in this book, these transformations can be a lot of fun. In this sense, while the original context of a speech from Shakespeare is always interesting, that speech's applicability to the present circ.u.mstances is what truly counts. It's what turns a Shakespearean quotation into a Bardism.

During the few months' stint of serial Shakespeare citation I described at the beginning of this introduction, I discovered something new about this writer I'd by then come to regard as an old friend. I already knew the extent to which he had enriched my life; my work on his plays as an artist and teacher has shown me around the United States, much of Europe, and parts of Asia, and the places he's taken me in my imagination have been even more extraordinary. And I already knew his work's unique way of revealing new details, nearly infinite resonances, each time I went away from it and then came back. But what I learned about the Bard's knack for saying just the right thing on all occasions is that all occasions are enhanced by his words. What's special about his poetry is that as it forges new links between experience as it's lived and experience as it's described, it somehow manages to deepen deepen lived experience by describing it as vividly as it does. lived experience by describing it as vividly as it does.

I'm not the first person to make this claim of old Will, which is fortunate, because it means there's someone I can turn to for corroboration. As I write this introduction, the great Shakespearean actor Patrick Stewart is starring on Broadway in a new production of Macbeth Macbeth. In an interview about it with the New York Times New York Times, he offered a lovely anecdote about how Shakespeare's touch on all occasions makes those occasions sweeter, richer, and more memorable: Mr. Stewart described an experience he had recently, as he walked alone before dusk near his rural village in Oxford-shire. "Suddenly I had this urge to speak the role, and there's n.o.body about," he said. "So I started at the top of the play, with 'So foul and fair a day I have not seen,' and I said the whole role through aloud, just to refresh my memory. It was a long walk."But it hit me before I said the lines 'Light thickens, and the crow / Makes wing to the rooky wood'-That's exactly how it was," he continued. "And I thought: This is wonderful. Every night in New York when I come to that part, I'll remember where I was, on this lonely road with bare fields on either side, and there's a mist hanging over the field, and indeed there are crows."

Mists, crows, thick light, and rooky woods-Shakespeare talks about them all, just as he talks about birthdays, funerals, and every other human event in between. He's graced the occasions of my life in so many beautiful ways, and it's my joy to commend him to yours.

"My Instructions May Be Your Guide"

SEVEN STEPS TO SHIPSHAPE SHAKESPEARE These keys to unlocking the Bard's secrets are distilled from the basic principles of Shakespearean acting taught to actors daily in the country's leading drama schools. (And I should know: I teach them there!) They can help lift the veil of obscurity off Shakespeare's alien-seeming language and reveal the familiar and comprehensible English hidden underneath.

Apply some of the following techniques to the excerpts of Shakespeare in this book, or to any others you fancy, and you'll find his language starting to feel as comfortable in your mouth and sound as familiar in your ears as the words you speak and hear in regular conversation. You may also find that your appreciation for all poetry, and not just Shakespeare's, gets an unexpected and altogether happy boost.

Here, then, the Seven Steps to Shipshape Shakespeare.

STEP 1: Know What You're Saying Know What You're Saying It's extremely easy to regard the strange vocabulary and alien syntax in Shakespeare as either insuperable obstacles or generalities to be approximated rather than understood. After all, the language is four hundred years old, and English in Shakespeare's day resembled German-the tongue from which it most recently derived-much more than it does today, and shared many byzantine grammatical structures with that still highly complex language. But a great way to get specific with the text, to bring it into your mouth and brain sounding fresh and new four centuries after it was written, is to ensure that you know exactly what you're saying. A great way to do that is to translate Shakespeare into modern, accessible, colloquial English that makes it effortlessly clear in your own mind. Write a paraphrase. Actors preparing a Shakespearean role sit with dictionaries and scholarly editions and work through their lines word by word to make certain they know what everything means. To save you that time-consuming, brain-boiling work, I have included paraphrases with almost every excerpt of Shakespeare in this book, the exceptions being those pa.s.sages whose language is simple and clear enough that they're self-explanatory. You'll note that my paraphrases have a very colloquial style, a loosey-goosey aspect that lends them a certain energy and flow. This is deliberate. Paraphrases help most when they're simplest. They needn't be pedantically precise, such as "To exist, or to negate existence: this is the central inquiry" (Hamlet's "To be or not to be, that is the question"), nor need they restate the obvious, as in "The day after today, and the day after today, and the day after today" (Macbeth's "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow"). Instead, they should express each of the basic thoughts in Shakespeare's text in terms that are immediately comprehensible to a modern ear. To achieve this, they might need to spell out certain concepts that Shakespeare leaves veiled, or even to rearrange things ever so slightly. Thus, for Hamlet: "What I'm wondering is whether I should go on living or not"; for Macbeth: "Time moves along relentlessly, inexorably, slowly." Sometimes they'll sound a little goofy, like "Watch out for March fifteenth!" (that's "Beware the ides of March" from Julius Caesar Julius Caesar), and often they'll render soaring poetry in terms that are eye-rollingly flat, as does "The glory of the divine presence can be seen even in things as ordinary as a dying bird" (that's Hamlet's "There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow," and it really loses something in translation). A good paraphrase will clarify abstruse terms, burn away the fog that can obscure simple thoughts, and reveal arguments in language that's maximally easy to wrap one's head around.

STEP 2: Ant.i.thesis: The Juxtaposition of Opposites Everywhere in Shakespeare Ant.i.thesis: The Juxtaposition of Opposites Everywhere in Shakespeare Americans well know these famous phrases: Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.

The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.

Anyone speaking the first pa.s.sage aloud will naturally emphasize the words that oppose each other, as JFK did at his inauguration, because those words convey the very meaning of the thought. Stressing any other words would result in nonsense: "Ask not WHAT your country CAN do FOR you, ask what you can DO for YOUR country." Ridiculous. The very idea being expressed depends upon-is built upon-the contrast between two opposites: What your country your country can do for can do for you you versus what versus what you you can do for can do for your country your country. Similarly, no English speaker in his right mind would quote Lincoln talking about the difference between "WHAT we say HERE" and "what THEY did HERE." Preposterous. The only way to make this extraordinary sentence comprehensible is to stress the contrasts between the ideas not remember not remember and and never forget never forget, and between what we say what we say and and what they did what they did. At Gettysburg, opposition communicates meaning.

Rhetoricians call the juxtaposition of strongly contrasting ideas within a balanced grammatical structure ant.i.thesis ant.i.thesis. Shakespeare is addicted to it: To be or or not to be not to be, that is the question.

Two loves I have, of comfort comfort and and despair. despair.

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, our stars,But in ourselves, ourselves, that we are underlings. that we are underlings.

Now is the winter winter of our discontent of our discontentMade glorious summer summer by this son of York. by this son of York.

That which hath made them them drunk drunk hath made hath made me me bold. bold.

I come to bury to bury Caesar, not Caesar, not to praise to praise him. him.The evil evil that men do that men do lives after them, lives after them,The good good is oft is oft interred with their bones. interred with their bones.In peace, peace, there's nothing so becomes a man there's nothing so becomes a manAs modest stillness and humility, stillness and humility,But when the blast of war war blows in our ears, blows in our ears,Then imitate the action of the tiger. action of the tiger.*

Ant.i.thesis is so widespread in Shakespeare that you can flip open your Complete Works Complete Works to any page, point your finger to any line, and find within three or four lines of it something that sounds a lot like the excerpts above. Every ant.i.thesis requires its speaker to emphasize the juxtaposed ideas. Stress any words other than those directly opposed to each other, and you'll make a hash of what's being said. to any page, point your finger to any line, and find within three or four lines of it something that sounds a lot like the excerpts above. Every ant.i.thesis requires its speaker to emphasize the juxtaposed ideas. Stress any words other than those directly opposed to each other, and you'll make a hash of what's being said.

To help you identify the words you need to lean upon in order to get the most out of Shakespeare's ant.i.theses, I will list them in my comments where necessary.

STEP 3: The Changing Height of Language: Shakespeare's Language Swings Back and Forth from Highly Poetical to Very Simple The Changing Height of Language: Shakespeare's Language Swings Back and Forth from Highly Poetical to Very Simple The best way to understand what a shift from heightened to simple language does is to observe one in action. Consider the first line of Act 1, Scene 4 of Hamlet Hamlet, spoken by the play's t.i.tle character. It's late on a winter night, and he's out on the castle ramparts with his friend Horatio and the soldier Marcellus, awaiting the reappearance of his father's ghost. He says: The air bites shrewdly. It is very cold.

The second of these two sentences requires no paraphrase. It is very cold It is very cold is not heightened or elevated, nor for that matter "Shakespearean," in any way at all. It's just a simple declarative statement, something any of us might say on any February evening. The first sentence is something else entirely. It imagines the air as a living being of some sort, complete with a mouth and teeth. This biting air is tactical, strategic: it bites in a shrewd manner, that is, cannily, subtly, with an ulterior motive. The adverb is not heightened or elevated, nor for that matter "Shakespearean," in any way at all. It's just a simple declarative statement, something any of us might say on any February evening. The first sentence is something else entirely. It imagines the air as a living being of some sort, complete with a mouth and teeth. This biting air is tactical, strategic: it bites in a shrewd manner, that is, cannily, subtly, with an ulterior motive. The adverb shrewdly shrewdly acquires its meaning from the shrew, a tiny rodent with a long snout that allows it to insinuate itself into even tightly closed places. A literal translation of Hamlet's first sentence, then, might read, "The air is a shrew biting my skin." This vividly metaphorical expression of coldness could be rendered in an even simpler paraphrase: "It's very cold." Put that paraphrase next to the second sentence, and you'll find that Hamlet is saying, essentially, "It's very cold. It's very cold." acquires its meaning from the shrew, a tiny rodent with a long snout that allows it to insinuate itself into even tightly closed places. A literal translation of Hamlet's first sentence, then, might read, "The air is a shrew biting my skin." This vividly metaphorical expression of coldness could be rendered in an even simpler paraphrase: "It's very cold." Put that paraphrase next to the second sentence, and you'll find that Hamlet is saying, essentially, "It's very cold. It's very cold."

Why does Hamlet say "It's cold" twice? The answer is about the changing height of his language. Hamlet, educated at Germany's Wittenberg University, is comfortable with heightened language and complex thought. Perhaps he says the first sentence to Horatio, also a distinguished WU alumnus ("Knockwurst, Brat Bratwurst, go, Vit, go go!"), but says the second, simpler half to the lumpen soldier Marcellus. Perhaps he says the first sentence to Marcellus, who doesn't get it, forcing Hamlet to clarify with the second sentence. Perhaps Hamlet says the first sentence aloud to everyone, and then turns aside and says the second sentence to himself. Or vice versa.

We can't know what Shakespeare had in mind when he wrote these words. All we can do is interpret them and use our best efforts to bring them to life in a truthful way. In this sense, there's never any correct or incorrect way to say the lines. None of the four interpretations I posited above is right, nor is any wrong. They're just ideas for actor and director to try in rehearsal. The key point about all of them is that they arise from a close reading of the text that reveals that one half of the line is heightened, and the other is not. Anyone trying to communicate its underlying ideas must first recognize the change that happens halfway through it, think about why why that change is there, and then say the line in a manner that uses its change of height to make both parts of it sharp, lifelike, and clear. that change is there, and then say the line in a manner that uses its change of height to make both parts of it sharp, lifelike, and clear.

STEP 4: Verbs: Special Heightening Agents Verbs: Special Heightening Agents Verbs are specially charged by definition, because they are words whose syntactical job-to cause action-requires of them a greater energy than that called for from the other parts of speech. Hamlet says that the reason the fear of death is so powerful is that it "puzzles the will" and " the will" and "makes us rather us rather bear bear those ills we those ills we have have / Than / Than fly fly to others that we to others that we know not know not of." The italics are mine, of course, and they indicate the verbs (or verb phrases), which happen to be the words that any speaker of English will naturally stress as they try to make Hamlet's ideas clear. Try to say these phrases sans emphasis on the verbs, and all you'll have is mush. of." The italics are mine, of course, and they indicate the verbs (or verb phrases), which happen to be the words that any speaker of English will naturally stress as they try to make Hamlet's ideas clear. Try to say these phrases sans emphasis on the verbs, and all you'll have is mush.

One of the most effective ways to bring Shakespeare alive in your mouth or in your mind is to underline the verbs as you work through the text. Their communicative vigor is so copious, potent, and expressive that they will actually haul you right through a speech's thoughts from start to finish...if you let them. Always, always. .h.i.t the verbs. And use them in whatever form they appear: participial or gerundial verbs used as adjectives or other parts of speech ("the pangs of disprized disprized love"; "there's nothing either good or bad but love"; "there's nothing either good or bad but thinking thinking makes it so") carry great energy and are indispensable. makes it so") carry great energy and are indispensable.

I will flag useful verbs, verb forms, and verb phrases throughout this book.

STEP 5: Scansion and Meter: The Time Signature Behind the Lines Scansion and Meter: The Time Signature Behind the Lines The majority of Shakespeare's work, and the majority of the excerpts quoted in this book, is written in verse verse. As distinct from its ant.i.thesis, prose prose (of which there's plenty in Shakespeare, some of which we'll see as well), verse is language that's composed in individual lines that conform to a given rhythm. That rhythm is created by the individual syllables in the words of the line, some of which receive stress and some of which don't. The art and science of counting the stressed and unstressed syllables in a line and then affixing to them a label that helps readers navigate the poem is called (of which there's plenty in Shakespeare, some of which we'll see as well), verse is language that's composed in individual lines that conform to a given rhythm. That rhythm is created by the individual syllables in the words of the line, some of which receive stress and some of which don't. The art and science of counting the stressed and unstressed syllables in a line and then affixing to them a label that helps readers navigate the poem is called scansion scansion, and it serves to identify the poem's meter meter, or time signature.

The most important meter for anyone working on Shakespeare is the famous iambic pentameter iambic pentameter. That's a fancy label for a verse line whose count (meter) is five (penta, as in pentagon pentagon) so-called feet feet, or sets of syllables, which are iambs iambs. An iamb is a foot comprising two syllables, the first of which is unstressed and the second stressed. It sounds like this: dee-DUM dee-DUM. New York is iambic: new YORK new YORK. So are Detroit (de-TROIT) and h.e.l.lo (hel-LO) and goodbye (good-BYE) and shalom (sha-LOM). Standard scansion notation marks the first syllable with a caret and the second with an accent mark: .

Put five iambs next to one another, and they look, and sound, like this:

nn nn nn nn

dee-DUM dee-DUM dee-DUM dee-DUM dee-DUM

Any verse that conforms to that ten-syllable, fivefold, unstressed-STRESSED pattern is labeled iambic pentameter iambic pentameter or its non-technical synonym, or its non-technical synonym, blank verse blank verse.

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears(friends ROM-ans COUNT-ry-MEN lend ME your EARS) Now is the winter of our discontent(now IS the WIN-ter OF our DIS-con-TENT) There is a tide in the affairs of men(there IS a TIDE in THE af-FAIRS of MEN) To be or not to be, that is the question(to BE or NOT to BE that IS the QUES-[tion])Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow(to-MOR-row AND to-MOR-row AND to-MOR-[row]) All Shakespeare, and all iambic pentameter.

Trained Shakespearean actors bang through the stressed and unstressed syllables in their scripts like so many t.i.to Puentes drumming away at a very literate set of timbales: the FAULT dear BRU-tus IS not IN our STARSba-BANG ba-BOOM ba-BING ba-BLAM ba-b.u.mP but IN our-SELVES that WE are UN-der-LINGSdee-DUM dee-DUM dee-DUM dee-DUM dee-DUM This percussive a.n.a.lysis reveals all sorts of fascinating things about the rhythm of Shakespeare's lines: It can tell you that a certain word you thought was unimportant actually falls in a position where the scansion gives it stress. "In" in the two lines above is an interesting case. Most of us would ignore that little word, but Ca.s.sius deliberately stresses it both times he uses it. Bang out the meter on your tabletop, and you'll hear that interesting detail. It can tell you that a certain word you thought was unimportant actually falls in a position where the scansion gives it stress. "In" in the two lines above is an interesting case. Most of us would ignore that little word, but Ca.s.sius deliberately stresses it both times he uses it. Bang out the meter on your tabletop, and you'll hear that interesting detail. It can tell you that a certain word is p.r.o.nounced differently in Shakespeare than we're used to hearing it. That special p.r.o.nunciation might require you to emphasize a given syllable in a surprising way, as in this ant.i.thesis-crammed line from It can tell you that a certain word is p.r.o.nounced differently in Shakespeare than we're used to hearing it. That special p.r.o.nunciation might require you to emphasize a given syllable in a surprising way, as in this ant.i.thesis-crammed line from Much Ado About Nothing Much Ado About Nothing: "Thou pure impiety and impious purity!" Impious Impious, the opposite of pious, which we p.r.o.nounce im-PYE-us im-PYE-us, is p.r.o.nounced IM-pyus IM-pyus in this line as it is every time it's used in Shakespeare, and here in this line as it is every time it's used in Shakespeare, and here purity purity is p.r.o.nounced with two syllables, not three: is p.r.o.nounced with two syllables, not three: PURE-tee PURE-tee. Thou PURE im-PYE-uh-TEE and IM-pyus PURE-tee. Without hammering through the scansion, we'd never say the words correctly. It can point to inflections in prefixes or suffixes to words, like that famous stressed It can point to inflections in prefixes or suffixes to words, like that famous stressed -ed -ed at the ends of words that's such a prominent part of Shakespeare's characteristic sound. Octavius Caesar opens Act 5 of at the ends of words that's such a prominent part of Shakespeare's characteristic sound. Octavius Caesar opens Act 5 of Julius Caesar Julius Caesar with this Bardism, Shakespeare on the Occasion of Good News: with this Bardism, Shakespeare on the Occasion of Good News: Now, Antony, our hopes are answered. If you p.r.o.nounce If you p.r.o.nounce answered answered with two syllables, as a modern English speaker instinctively would, the line will only have nine syllables, not the ten that iambic pentameter demands. Only by stressing the with two syllables, as a modern English speaker instinctively would, the line will only have nine syllables, not the ten that iambic pentameter demands. Only by stressing the -ed -ed ending will the meter be complete, and only then will Shakespeare's hopes be answered. ending will the meter be complete, and only then will Shakespeare's hopes be answered.

Throughout this book I will mark inflected -ed -ed endings with an accent grave (- endings with an accent grave (-ed), and I will point out other places where the scansion demands an unusual p.r.o.nunciation.

I will also point out where it's best to disregard disregard what the scansion suggests when it leads to a reading that's overly pedantic, technical-sounding, weird, and alienating. Would any English-speaker's instincts produce this reading? what the scansion suggests when it leads to a reading that's overly pedantic, technical-sounding, weird, and alienating. Would any English-speaker's instincts produce this reading?

friends ROM-ans COUNT-ry-MEN lend ME your EARS Unlikely. Although technically correct, this is instinctively wrong. It sounds bizarre, herky-jerky, shouty. Let the scansion go, and you'll find that the line will probably come out more like this: FRIENDS, ROM-ans, COUNT-ry-men, LEND ME your EARS Spoken according to natural instinct, the line turns out to be iambic pentameter in name only. Its natural rhythm is far more nuanced and interesting. Shakespeare regards iambic pentameter as more of a guide than a prescription; a map, not a destination. He's like a jazz musician, establishing a baseline rhythm, then improvising around it, syncopating it into something much more loose and free. Actors are trained to understand this, and to recognize that for every line of verse, there's the scansion that the meter suggests and the scansion that natural instinct suggests; that is, there's the metric stress metric stress and the and the natural stress natural stress. The best actors know that scansion can provide important, often surprising, information about the words in the lines, but that this information is only useful insofar as it helps clarify what the line is trying to say. Think of scansion and meter as tools that refine your instincts, but don't replace them.

STEP 6: Phrasing with the Verse Line: Cover the Speech with a Piece of Paper and Read It One Line at a Time Phrasing with the Verse Line: Cover the Speech with a Piece of Paper and Read It One Line at a Time Take a look at how this Bardism, Shakespeare on the Evil Maniac in a Horror Movie, is arranged: 'Tis now the very witching time of night,When churchyards yawn and h.e.l.l itself breathes outContagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood,And do such bitter business as the dayWould quake to look on. Soft! Now to my mother. 5-HAMLET, Hamlet Hamlet, 3.3-358-362 In other words, "It's now dead midnight, when graves gape open and h.e.l.l breathes disease into the world. Now I could guzzle hot blood, and do the kind of terrible things that daylight itself would shudder to behold.-Take it easy!-Now I'll visit my mom."

Notice what happens at the end of each line in the excerpt. Lines 1 and 3 are marked with commas, and line 5 ends with a period. That punctuation falls where it does because the thoughts expressed in lines 1, 3, and 5 all end at the ends of the lines. That is, there is a change or development in the direction of Hamlet's thinking between night night and and when when, and between blood blood and and and and, and the commas denote the end of one phase of that thinking and the beginning of the next. And Hamlet completes a thought about his mom with mother mother, so the period marks that stop. Lines 1, 3, and 5 are therefore called end-stopped end-stopped lines, because the ideas on them stop where the verse line ends. lines, because the ideas on them stop where the verse line ends.

Lines 2 and 4, however, have no punctuation at all. They don't need any, because the thoughts they express continue unbroken from the end of one line onto the start of the next. Line 2 is about how h.e.l.l itself breathes out contagion h.e.l.l itself breathes out contagion, but that thought is too long to fit on one line of iambic pentameter, so Shakespeare spreads it over two lines, dividing it between out out and and contagion contagion. Similarly, line 4 is concerned with business the day would quake to look on the day would quake to look on. Again, this unbroken thought, too long for line 4 to contain, spills onto line 5. Lines 2 and 4 are not end-stopped; the thoughts they express don't stop at the ends of the lines. Their thoughts run onto the next line, and so we call them run-on run-on lines. lines.*

How should one phrase this language? Lines 1, 3, and 5 take care of themselves. The fact that they're end-stopped will automatically make any Hamlet break his phrasing at the ends of the lines, precisely where the commas and period indicate a break, breath, or slight suspension of momentum. Lines 2 and 4 are trickier. Should you phrase them according to the punctuation? That would sound like this: When churchyards yawn and h.e.l.l itself breathes out contagion to this world.And do such bitter business as the day would quake to look on.

These readings are clear enough, but they transform poetic verse carefully composed in iambic pentameter into a kind of modern prose devoid of any kind of rhythmic signature. Bitter business indeed.

Suppose instead we separate the lines again and think of their ends as moments of thought moments of thought. What if we imagine Hamlet thinking in the moment and choosing words to express his thoughts, asking himself exactly what it is that h.e.l.l itself breathes into the world, and just what the day would do when it sees the bitter business he's going to conduct? Watch what happens to the odd endings of lines 2 and 4 if we force Hamlet to ask himself those questions: When churchyards yawn and h.e.l.l itself breathes out...(what?)...Contagion to this world.And do such bitter business as the day...(what?)...Would quake to look on.

Hamlet could say that h.e.l.l itself breathes out any of a million things into this world, and that the day would do any of a thousand things when it sees his bitter business. But the exact words he chooses are contagion contagion and and quake quake. The line endings give him opportunities to find specific ideas and express them in specific words.

Run-on lines are very special in Shakespeare, as in all verse. They provide the actor an opportunity to make his mind and his character's one and the same. They tell the actor to ask "What next?" and then to search for precisely the right word that expresses in every last nuance what it is he's trying to say. Ask (what?) (what?) at the end of every single line, or have a friend shout it out for you, and as you answer the question you'll begin to write the language for yourself. at the end of every single line, or have a friend shout it out for you, and as you answer the question you'll begin to write the language for yourself.

'Tis now the very witching time of night, (whaddaya mean?) (whaddaya mean?)When churchyards yawn and h.e.l.l itself breathes out (what?) (what?)Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood, (what else?) (what else?)And do such bitter business as the day (what about it?) (what about it?)Would quake to look on. Soft! Now to my mother.

A technique I call the "Paper Trick" is an easy and effective way to quickly get you phrasing verse one line at a time. Simply take a blank piece of paper and cover the speech you're working on, revealing only its very first line. Say that line, and when you reach its end-and only when you reach its end-slide the paper down to reveal the next line-and only the next line. Say that line, slide the paper down again, say the next line, then slide and speak, slide and speak, slide, speak, until you reach the end of the speech. I promise that the speech will become significantly clearer and easier to say on the very first pa.s.s through it. With practice, this one-line-at-a-time phrasing will become as instinctual to you as normal speech.