For easier comparison, I'm including below the change of names that happens between Greene's _Pandosto_ and Shakespeare's _The Winter's Tale_:
Pandosto of Bohemia becomes Leontes of Sicily
Egistus of Sicily by Polixenes of Bohemia
Hermion=Bellaria
Maximillius=Garinter
Florizel=Dorastus
Perdita=Fawnia
Camillo=Franion and Capnio
For the secondary reading from Lori Newcomb, Emily can bring the important points that she wants to highlight from the chapter. The rest of you, please focus specifically on the first few introductory pages 77-88 and the final section, "The Carpenter in the Street," 117-29.
1) Consider how the change in title reflects Shakespeare's different handling of the same raw material as Greene. What changes when we move from _Pandosto the Triumph of Time_ or alternately _Dorastus and Fawnia_ to _The Winter' s Tale_?
2) How does a "dramatic" romance fit in with the genre we have been discussing thus far this semester? Or does it seem like an ill fitting term to describe this late play of Shakespeare?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The Winter’s Tale always stood out to me among Shakespeare’s plays before I read it as oddly titled. It neither includes much in the way of thematic or moral description – say All’s Well That Ends Well or A Midsummer Night’s Dream – nor does it reference a major character, as in Hamlet, etc. What exactly is this Tale, and what makes it suitable for the Winter?
ReplyDeleteThe relevant line from the play is spoken by Mamillius to his mother, when he notes, “A sad tale’s best for winter; I have one of sprites and goblins” (II. iii. 25-26). Of course, his death means we never hear the story he plans to tell, but his own life story certainly satisfies the requirements of being “sad.” But as noted above, the play’s title does not suggest a concern with a particular individual, or their tales, “sad” or otherwise. The title posits a relationship of ownership (i.e. the “Tale” belongs to “Winter”), implying that the season itself dictates the quality of the stories told in it. Put this way, there is a quality of the inevitable to the events of this play, which certainly suits a work whose axis turns on a speech from the implacable force of Time itself. The individual pathos of the characters affected by Leontes’ jealousy is not the focus of the play; thus the seemingly inexplicable change in his attitude to Polixenes appears to be part of a natural cycle that exists in human relationships, which apparently go through periods of negation as surely as autumn always gives way to winter.
On the other hand, both of Greene’s titles suggest a way out of such a cycle; Dorastus and Fawnia emphasises the younger generation, suggesting their break with the pettiness that led to the characteristic strife of the older generation. Pandosto, the Triumph of Time is closer to Shakespeare’s title as I’ve discussed it here, implying as it does a similar subjugation of human agency to the whims of nature. Nonetheless, Greene’s title still places the focus squarely on the lord’s own mistakes, against the more encompassing view that Shakespeare apparently argues for, that effectively banalizes individual experience. I suspect that this discussion plays into Lori Newcomb’s argument about the The Winter’s Tale as a reflection of the elite’s anxieties around romance (and particularly its suggestion of a popular audience empowered through readership) in the Stuart period.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThe change in title shifts the focus from the individual actors in the story (Pandosto) to the importance of the tale as a fictional creation. Further, while the title Pandosto or The Triumph of Time highlights the importance of Fortune or Providence, Shakespeare’s new title removes this emphasis. This distinction emerges not only in the alteration of the title, but also in Shakespeare’s adaptation of his source. In Pandosto, fortune is personified as a godlike character that becomes “envious of happy success” (156) and turns her wheel to show her inconstancy. The Winter’s Tale, on the other hand, places grater emphasis on the importance of human agency. Autolycus is the most obvious example of someone who is able to create his or her own fortune. He uses his art to make his living by stealing, selling songs, and performing. He changes costumes several times throughout the play (appearing in rags, as a peddler, as a courtier) and is able to alter his identity. Autolycus is not only unconcerned with fate, but also believes his dishonest actions are sanctioned by fortune: “If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune would not suffer me; she drops booties in my mouth” (4.4.821-822).
ReplyDeleteA similar concern is revealed in the differences between the endings of these two texts. In Greene’s text, Pandosto despairs as a result of his actions and kills himself. The Winter’s Tale, on the other hand, ends with the “resurrection” of Hermione and emphasizes Paulina’s art and the contribution that her illusion makes to the restoration of order. One of the most peculiar moments in the conclusion of Pandosto is when the narrator describes Pandosto’s death as revealing and creating a sudden shift in genre: “to close up the comedy with a tragical stratagem, he slew himself” (204). This moment contradicts my previous argument by revealing the reassertion of the authorial voice and emphasizing the importance of narrative construction.
I'll take a crack at No. 2 - Does The Winter's Tale fit as a Romance?
ReplyDeleteI have to say that first impressions are 'No' it doesn't. Part of what fails to make it 'feel' like a Romance in the traditional sense is exactly what makes it such an interesting play: the break in the middle. We don't really have a hero that spans (and unites) the whole tale (I don't credit Leontes -- that blockhead -- as a hero). The 'quest' is also unusual. Instead of seeking something, something unlooked-for is found (or, rather, someone unlooked-for).
The child lost at sea, the multi-generational story, the restored family - so much like Pericles that one has to wonder what Shakespeare is up to here. These late plays do have a curious 'pastoral' feel to them, in part, perhaps because of the settings and the episodic nature of the tales. Also, there is an strange element of wistfulness about them that I can't quite explain (Oh dear, I feel all teary-eyed all of a sudden).
The restoration of Perdita/Marina and Hermione/Thaisa -- there is an agency at work here (providence, fate, the gods) that operates behind the scenes and independent of the characters. To the extent that this agent is benevolent, it points towards Romance.
The element of the fantastic at the end of The Winter's Tale would also seem to tip it toward Romance -- but is it really fantastic? We don't know. Perhaps Hermione was in a coma all those years -- who knows? I do love the fact that Shakespeare isn't explicit about this, but that doesn't help with the question.
The Winter's Tale is certainly 'romantic', but I'm not (quite) convinced that it's a Romance.