#257 Henry VIII (1613)

Author: William Shakespeare
Title: Henry VIII
Genre: Play
Year: 1613
Origin: read on the iPad
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

Henry VIII is an odd little play. It is regarded as one of Shakespeare’s history-plays, however, it is uneven, fitting several possible genres, with an insecure plot that makes it hard to tell if it is a tragedy of not. Unlike the other history plays in the Shakespeare canon – as reviewed on this blog in recent years – it contains no battle scenes. Even its title is misleading, with the plot revolving around Henry VIII’s right hand man, Cardinal Wolsey, and principally his fall from power. In fact, the authorship of the play remains in dispute. It is widely acknowledged that it is collaboration between Shakespeare and John Fletcher.

The plot centres on the power struggle within the Tudor court. Cardinal Wolsey held a high amount of power in England in the years 1515 to 1529, during which time he collected many enemies as the king grew stronger in his attention to domestic affairs. The ticking time-bomb to Wolsey’s fall rests on the love triangle between Henry, his wife Catherine of Aragon, and wife #2 Anne Boleyn (Ann Bullen in this play).

When weighted up against Shakespeare’s other important plays, Henry VIII is firmly placed in the shade. Perhaps it is more famous for its part in burning down the original Globe theatre (due to a special effect that went wrong), consigning it to the sin-bin of jinxed plays never to be touched. However, it recently found favour in 2010 with fresh performances. The director, Mark Rosenblatt, made the comparison of the play to political satirical show The Thick of It, commenting that despite the lack of sword fights, ‘all the battles take place on the corridors of power.’

Such similarities to the rise and fall of New Labour (Blair as Henry, and perhaps Mandelson as Wolsey?) was a welcome thought for the Worm. Without this, perhaps the play can be disregarded as a small affair, not fully taking up the challenge of a narrative that truly centres on such an influential king in Henry. It is not a bad read, with the play’s historical eccentric side-notes making it a read worth experiencing at least once.

Read the play here

#216 A Streetcar Named Desire (1947)

Author: Tennessee Williams
Title: A Streetcar Named Desire
Genre: Play
Year: 1947
Pages: 110
Origin: a tried and trusted library book
Nod Rating: 5 nods out of 5

'Hello! I am Llewelyn Sinclair! I have directed three plays in my career, and I have had three heart attacks! That's how much I care, I am planning for a fourth.'
Llewelyn Sinclair, The Simpsons, ‘A Streetcar Named Marge’ (1992)

The Worm’s first encounter with the play A Streetcar Named Desire was, like many things in his childhood, witnessed whilst watching an episode of The Simpsons. The 1992 episode of the all-embracing cartoon was titled 'A Streetcar Named Marge', with a connection being made between her relationship with Homer and Williams’ characters Blanche DuBois and Stanley Kowalski. Of course, for an earlier generation the first thing that might come to mind – and perhaps a tad more apt – is the bawling of Marlon Brando (‘Stell-lahhhhh!’) in black and white at the cinema. Such is the declining cultural experience of each successive decade. Perhaps those born in the twenty-first century will experience the play by way of a phone-in talent show or via an ill-advised internet pornography production

The fantastically named Tennessee Williams (Tennessee being, unfortunately, a nick-name) wrote the play A Streetcar Named Desire in the late 1940s. It proved to be a hit, making its way to the silver screen and finding a home in the popular consciousness for the past sixty years. It charts the character of Blanche DuBois who has journey to her sister’s (Stella) home in the hope of finding shelter from the mess that has become her world. Stella is happy to have her demanding sibling under the same roof as her again, however, her husband – Stanley – has the opposite feelings. Blanche and Stanley go head to head in a cold war of their wits, with Blanche ending up losing whatever remained of hers; leading to the near closing immortal line of hers: ‘I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.’

The Worm didn’t expect to become so engaged in Williams’ play. This can be explained in three reasons. Firstly, the dialogue is entertaining. Williams has a talent in bringing the page to life through use of slang and jokes (both surface jokes and dark humour). Secondly, this dialogue finds perfect voices in his development of the characters, including the central triumvirate that is Blanche, Stella and Stanley. The sisters’ relationship reveals their affection for one another (Blanche labelling her sister as a saviour of sorts, ‘Stella for Star’), as well as Blanche and Stanley’s rivalry for the loyalty of Stella. Thirdly, Williams paces the play in a way in which suspense is continually building throughout. It peaks at certain points, namely in Stella’s and Stanley’s argument/fight, as well as in the climax of Blanche and Stanley’s argument/fight (one will correctly deduce that Stanley is an argumentative kind of guy).

Blanche’s long list of pretensions (such as the naming of literary authors and poets) attempts – and fails – to cover up her own past: including the loss of a youthful fiancé, the loss of her reputation, and the loss of the ancestral home, Belle Reve. Despite fleeing to New Orleans and courting Mitch, she is unable to escape her eventual fate: this being the tragedy of the play. As Blanche explains to her sister:

‘I never was hard or self-sufficient enough. When people are soft – soft people got to court the favour of hard ones, Stella. Have got to be seductive – put on soft colours, the colours of butterfly wings, and glow – make a little – temporary magic just in order to pay for – one night’s shelter! That’s why I’ve been – not so awf’ly good lately. I’ve run for protection, Stella, from under one leaky roof to another leaky roof – because it was storm – all storm, and I was – caught in the centre… People don’t’ see you – men don’t – don’t even admit your existence unless they are making love to you. And you’ve got to have your existence admitted by someone, if you’re going to have someone’s protection. And so the soft people have got to – shimmer and glow – put a – paper lantern over the light… But I’m scared now – awf’ly scared. I don’t know how much longer I can turn the trick. It isn’t enough to be soft. You’ve got to be soft and attractive. And I – I’m fading now.’

Her battle with Stanley reaches fever pitch towards the play’s end in what is an ambiguous closing to a heated and possibly sinister scene (‘Tiger – tiger! Drop the bottle-top! Drop it! We’ve had this date with each other from the beginning!’). The ‘magic’ that Blanche has sought to provide to those around her is not needed, and with that comes her removal to a mental institution.

Of course, the words on paper do not factor in the breadth of Williams’ world that he has created in A Streetcar Named Desire. Obviously a reading of the play misses the music of the Varsouviana – used as a haunting reminder of Blanche’s memories. However, this does not detract from what is an outstanding read of 5 nodder quality. The Worm was absorbed and invested much emotion in these characters, being left to ponder the fate of Blanche DuBois and whether or not she could survive into her own age or in a modern world. In this alone Tennessee Williams should be commended. The Simpsons cannot do such a masterpiece justice, but the Worm is thankful that he found this play through its portal.

Buy it here