Act Three, Scene One of The Taming of the Shrew takes place a day before Petruchio and Kate’s nuptials. In the Minola household, we find the two faux schoolmasters, Lucentio (disguised as “Cambio”) and Hortensio (disguised as “Litio”), tutoring Bianca. And here we find that though Bianca may be the more pursued of the sisters, Kate doesn’t have a monopoly on forwardness: “I’ll not be tied to hours nor ‘pointed times, // But learn my lessons as I please myself” (III.i.19-20). She is in charge and leaves no doubt about it. She allows Lucentio/Cambio to tutor her in Latin while Hortensio/Litio spends much of the scene tuning his lute and biding his time (to comic effect). Even more comical is the Latin lesson itself, where Lucentio/Cambio translates a passage from Ovid to Bianca: Continue reading Act Three: Worst. Wedding. Ever. (even if it’s offstage)→
The Taming of the Shrew begins with a false start, as the play as we know it (or as we THINK we know it) is actually a play-within-a-play (kinda). In the two-scene “Induction,” a Christopher Sly is introduced, shown to be a drunk and one who doesn’t pay for his drinks to boot, and promptly passes out in the street. He’s found by an unnamed lord, who thinks it would be a great practical joke to take the unconscious Sly, set him up in the lord’s own manor, and see what happens when he wakes up not as Christopher Sly but a wealthy lord.
first an apology: I’ve been thinking about this concept now for a couple of weeks… but I don’t have time to do the topic justice… the following blog entry begins promisingly, but it turns pretty scattershot pretty quickly… if I get a chance to edit this and make it better, I will. But for now, it’s all I’ve got…
In Hamlet, we’re told that the flesh is heir to a thousand natural shocks. But in Titus Andronicus, there are myriad un-natural ones, too. Rape. Tongue cut out. Hands cut off. Men sacrificed. Children killed then baked into pies and fed to their mother. Villains buried chest deep and left to die. It’s an existence filled with pain and distress. How can man cause such pain to his fellow man? (and here, I’m talking about the characters, not Shakespeare) Continue reading Bodies Stacked Like Cord Wood→