How much does
language affect one appreciation of a work of literature? Can a
translation/adaptation ever capture the original’s linguistic prowess and emotional
charge? That questions ends up on my mind often as when it comes to Shakespeare’s
works. I came to Shakespeare in a second-language context, first seeing and
reading the works in French before turning over to English during my
undergraduate degree.[1]
Quebec has an embarrassment of riches when it comes to playwrights and dramaturges
who tackle the bard and “la langue de Shakespeare,”
but when so much is made of Shakespeare’s poetical skills and the mellifluous
sounds of his plays utter, the idea of presenting it in another language seems counter intuitive at first glance.
And yet… There
exists a universal quality in these works that allows it to easily (not to say
effortlessly) permeate language barriers. These are, after all, works that have
been around and performed for over four centuries. Whether you have seen or read
them, names like Hamlet, Juliet,[2]
or Shylock conjure some sort of reference in our cultural psyche. Even better if
you are new to Shakeapeare, as hearing them in a different language would not
pose that much of an issue. My “curse” as a Shakespeare scholar, if you could
call it that, is that I know some of the play virtually by hart in English, or
at least parts of them, which makes it difficult sometimes to appreciate a
translation since I anticipate verses or soliloquies.
And yet… The
plays themselves were a mix of languages. Shakespeare loved to throw in some Latin,
French, Greek, Spanish, Italian, or regional/national dialects such as Welsh
and Irish. Early modern audiences would have been pleased when hearing the shifts
from verse to prose on a purely auditory level as well. Sound sometimes takes precedence
over language. One of my high school teachers directed a French version of A
Midsummer Night’s Dream where names were changed to their French equivalent:
Helena became Hélène, Hermia became Hermione, Titania became Titane… all except for Bottom.
When I asked why he did not switch his name, he replied that it was funnier in
its original format, particular when said in a French accent. (Try it at home! Fun
for the whole family). There is a similar forethought in characters like Don
Armado and Fluellen.
Do you even
need language? One of the most arrestingly beautiful adaptations of Midsummer
that I have ever seen was a Japanese
performance a teacher showed me during my undergraduate studies (and it is a criminal
offense that I do not remember its director at this present moment, but in my
defense, this was the class during which Emily and I started dating). While I could
not make out a single word, the visuality of the play was stunning: The stage
was a giant, empty sandbox, with bags full of sand hanging from the rafters.
When the four lovers enter the woods, the bags started releasing sand in long
strands that were made to look like trees. The lovers chased each other around
them. When Puck puts them to sleep, they fell to the ground until they were
completely covered. A similar effect can be achieved with paintings, sculptures,
even internet gifs, where language is not required to enjoy Shakespeare.
A
different language can even add to the plays as it has in a place like Quebec,
which regularly looks back to its colonial and multi-linguistic history in its
artistic creations. In the end, it speaks to the versatility of Shakespeare’s drama,
and just how well the plays have integrated fields of cultural production over
the years. To each his own: I will always prefer hearing “foolery doth walk the
orb like the sun, it shines everywhere” to any permutation, but I am confident that
the essence of the line will carry over no matter what the context. “Tout est
well, qui ends bien,” as they say!
Also:
in a baseball context, this little blog post would be a minor league pitcher in
comparison to the Sandy Koufax that is Jennifer Drouin’s book Shakespeare in
Québec: Nation, Gender, and Adaptation. A really fun and clever read. Check
it out.
Random
excitement of the week:
If
you have never seen Chimes at Midnight do so before finishing this sentence.[3]
Orson Wells’ ode to Falstaff is everything that a celebration of such a splendid
character should be, without any of the pomposity and fetishism that Harold
Bloom usually brings to the table.[4]
Wells was very passionate about this project but also struggling to garner the
necessary funds, so legend has it he lied to producers in saying he was making Treasure
Island, shooting his Shakespearean creation in Spain instead. Well done,
old boy.
Smooshy:
A
television-centric smooshy this time: as much as I was a fan of Breaking Bad
and think that their Emmy wins this year were well-deserved, it pained me a bit
to see True Detective go home broke in the acting department. McConaughey, Harrelson, and Monaghan delivered
amazing, original performances. It would have been nice to see some of them
recognized.
A quick additional smooshy to the American Broadchurch
coming to Fox: I refuse to
watch your show as long as you call it Gracepoint and David Tennant does
not get rid of that awful hair. Just air the British version and earn your
place in heaven!
Random
Shout out:
Do
you like opera sang by a beautiful barista that makes a killer espresso? Good.
Are you also a fan of Doctor Who and of witty blogs? Even better! Check out
Erica Martin’s “The Singing Nerdess” blog at http://singingnerdess.blogspot.ca.
Erica is not only a good friend of Emily and me, but her blogs are really
funny, insightful, and creative.
Till
next time!
-My
kingdom for a horse
-Sure
thing… in 3 to 5 business days. And you must give us at least two pieces of ID
And you! Yeah
you…. Come here… leave a comment now and then. It’s always appreciated. Good. Now
call your mother.
[1] First play I ever read in English: Twelfth Night. I
did not understand half of it, and instantly fell in love, wondering how a
comedy could make me this sad. It remains my favourite play.
[2] In today’s pop culture obsessed world, Romeo and
Juliet would be known as “Julio, Hamlet and Ophelia as “Hamelia,” and Macbeth
and Lady Macbeth as “Lady Macbeth” (she really wears the pants in this couple).
[3] I mean it, I’ll wait ...
[4] Fun fact, Harold Bloom does not bring anything to the
table, he has graduate students show up instead. Ha!
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