I shall make no excuses for my absence from this blog, except that many Shakespearean characters share my lack of commitment, and so I must consider myself in good company with a rich literary history of inconstancy.
Quick update on my life: final year of undergrad at the university, no clue as to what I'm doing after graduation. Seriously. No clue. Most days I'm screaming on the inside; the other days my neighbors call the police about a noise violation. Books and plays are still a refuge, though; not a lot of time to read on my own, but my Elizabethan Revenge Plays course provides me with some opportunities. We're currently in the middle of The Merchant of Venice.
I have an interesting history with this play. The first time I read it I hated it because I hated everyone in it. They all seemed to be massive bitches to one another, all highly hypocritical, occasionally inciting my sympathy only to have me withdraw it when they did something ridiculous like forcing someone to convert or choosing flesh over thousands of ducats or setting their husband up to look like an ass. All their actions seemed back-biting, nasty, and largely unnecessary.
Now that's kinda why I like it.
Not that I like hypocritical people. But we can't really castigate anyone in the play in particular because EVERYONE is hypocritical. No one's wholly evil or wholly pure. It's a realist play, in a way. No one is free of flaws, and as much as you get annoyed with them you cannot judge them too harshly because there's always something you can relate to: the petty side of you, the side that isn't always magnanimous, the side that's woken up on the wrong side and doesn't care who you piss off during your bad mood. We're all bitches, to some extent. Even if we don't act like it, we certainly think it. And thank goodness, because purity is boring. Shades of gray give things depth.
Take Portia, for example. Holy shit is she judgmental, even racist to a point. But she's spunky and cheeky, and we kinda like that. While she harshly critiques all her suitors, we giggle. She's bound by her father's will and cannot choose her husband for herself, but funny how the song she plays before Bassanio chooses the casket has endrhymes that all sound like "LEAD." Hint-hint-wink-wink-say-no-more, Bassanio. One is reminded of all the subtlety of Steve Martin's bird call signal in The Three Amigos. Again, can we blame her? Sure, she wants to be a good lovely subservient dutiful daughter, but doesn't want to be hitched to and under obligation to procreate with a complete git. Close your eyes and think of Belmont... *shudder*
Then, we're all pleased as punch with Portia when she cross-dresses and saves Antonio's life, but because of one little remark by Bassanio about Portia being dead to save Antonio she pulls the whole ring bullshit and I personally question how much I like her at all. Alright, I'd be jealous too if my husband-to-be clearly had some homoerotic goings-on that I wasn't previously aware of, but come on, people say hyperbolic things when someone's about to have their heart bloodthirstily excised in the middle of a public court. IT HAPPENS. No need to pretend you've cuckolded them out of revenge for losing a piece of jewelry that you demanded they give up when you were disguised as a man. All you're going to do by using jealousy as an aphrodisiac is create fidelity problems down the road. Trust me on this one. Also, as a friend of mine observed, Antonio's speech at the play's opening, saying "In sooth, I know not why I am so sad," clearly demonstrates that Bassanio's not putting out like he used to, so Portia doesn't have too much competition there to worry about. Appreciate that your man's a bit of a limp-wrist and therefore a great shopping buddy, and move on. Portia's ego is plenty healthy enough to believe she has the feminine power to make Bassanio bat for her team.
So far my discussion has been very Portia based, but I have a bunch to say on the other characters, particularly Antonio vs. Shylock. In my course we're doing a debate on the play, examining Shakespeare's use of the English Christian name "Shylock" for his Jewish character and whether that could be called defamatory. Luckily, I'm on the defense, so no burden of proof for me. Honestly, for every accusation that Shylock is evil there is a counter-argument that he is not evil but understandable, or that Antonio and other characters are at least as evil as he is. I will leave a full discussion of this point until the next post, which I am determined will be sometime in the next week.
Skeptics, don't look at me in that tone of voice.
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