In reference to book by Tillyard, E.M.W. The Elizabethan World Picture. New York: Vintage Books, 1959.

In lieu of following the structure of the previous entries, I am going to summarize Tillyard’s book with interpretations interspersed in an attempt to procure an understanding of the text. Tillyard organizes the book in a succession of ideas that build upon each other, much as the concepts discussed.

Order:

Elyot in Governor explains that order prevents chaos, maintaining stability (11-12). Hooker defines human law as a derivation of God’s law (divine law) and reason (14). Elizabethan chaos is defined not as “confusion on a large scale,” but as “cosmic anarchy before creation and the wholesale dissolution that would result if the pressure of Providence relaxed and allowed the law of nature to cease functioning” (16). After finishing the book, I can see the freakish pressure that this would have placed on people of the time – if one link in the chain is “off,” then the entire chain is in danger of nonexistence. In his work, Shakespeare defines order in terms of the chaos threatening to destroy it (17). Shakespeare relates life to a cosmic order: sun – planets – life forms = royalty – kingdom – citizens.

Sin:

In a phrase that sums up the Elizabethan view on sin, Tillyard pens, “It was far easier to be very wicked and think yourself so than to be a little wicked without a sense of sin” (18). Immediately Iago comes to mind – he is wicked and knows it. The perception, as I understand it, was that God created all, man fell through Adam, man rose through Redemption (Christ). Stability (order) appears achieved through a balance of religious faith (believing) and sinning (living). I am still a little fuzzy on this Elizabethan ideology.

Universal Order:

1. Chain of Being – “unimaginable plentitude of God’s creation, its unfaltering order, and its ultimate unity” (26)

2. Series of corresponding planes

3. Dance

Chain of Being:

The chain of being was best related through Jean Martin’s translation of Raymond de Sebonde’s Natural Theology. The chain as conveyed in pages 27-28 is as follows:

1. existence (inanimate class – elements, liquids, metals). Virtue of components is present as water is nobler than earth, gold is nobler than brass, and ruby is nobler than topaz.

2. existence of life (vegetative class). Virtue: oak is nobler than bramble.

3. existence of life and feeling (sensitive class)

a. creatures that have touch, but no hearing, memory, or movement (shellfish, parasites)

b. creatures that have touch, memory, movement, but no hearing (ants)

c. higher animals – have all four (dogs, horses)

4. existence of life, feeling, and understanding (man – “little world or microcosm”)

5. spiritual class (angels)

6. God

All classes have quality that exceeds the class above it except for angels. The noblest forms of each class are identifiable, such as fire – inanimate, rose – vegetative, lion – sensitive. Abundance is key to the chain.

Links in the chain:

The Elizabethan notion of the chain of being is that every level of the ladder is made up of the elements and of the entities or parts below it in the chain. Tillyard mentions that a fiery heaven would have been the highest perfection because fire was the noblest element. As a means of rationalizing the connection between the elements and the divine, ether became known as the fifth element. Although the Elizabethans referred to the “air” between the clouds and heaven, it was difficult not to think of ether in terms of its nickname for hard liquor – as if you could “drink” your way to spiritual place (I know, warped).

Astrology and Fate worked on the chain additionally in “that the stars sway the mind to certain states by acting on our physical predispositions” (57). Conversely, “’Fate will be overcome, if thou resist it; if thou neglect it, it conquereth’” (57). This implies that the stars ply on a person’s weaknesses to control our feelings and attitudes that drive our actions. If he resists passionate feelings and utilizes reason, he will not become “fortune’s fool” as Romeo does.

As a visual aid to assist me in remembering the connection to the elements, I am including the chart. The “personality” portion of the chart is from http://ise.uvic.ca/Library/SLT/ideas/humours.html

Element	Humour	Quality	Personality
Earth	Melancholy	Cold & dry	Introspective, sallow, thin
Water	Phlegm	Cold & moist	Sluggish, pallid, corpulent, lazy
Air	Blood	Hot & moist	Optimistic, red-cheeked, corpulent, irresponsible
Fire	Choler	Hot & dry	Short-tempered, red-haired, thin, ambitious

Tillyard summarizes the scale of creation as:

· Beasts – “excel in sensible capacity . . . ,” are “. . . content with the mere necessities . . . ,” and “. . . have an instinctive sensuous perception”

· Angels – “instinctive intellectual perception”

· Plants – “excel in the faculty of growth”

· Stones – “excel in durability, and the best of them are the hardest and the most brilliant”

Corresponding Planes:

There are five planes in the chain of being:

1. divine and angelic

2. universe or macrocosm

3. commonwealth or body politic

4. man or microcosm

5. lower creation

Elizabethans looked for correspondences within the same plane (numbers, items, etc.) Correspondences were also made within the chain of being where noble equality of an item in the chain existed when compared with an item of equal nobility in a corresponding plane (for example in Three Moral Treatises, a poem by Thomas Blunderville, God – sun – prince – reason – justice).

Cosmic Dance:

All parts of the chain and corresponding planes are in continuous harmonious motion (a dance) with each other. I see this as creation and order.

In a final note, playgoers of the Elizabethan era had the pleasure and advantage of knowing and living the information Tillyard conveyed. A lot of Shakespeare that I have difficulty understanding would have been second nature to the Elizabethan person, allowing that person to give more attention to other qualities of the play. By applying the ideas in Tillyard’s book in my studies of Shakespeare, I am able to obtain that same advantage of the Elizabethan playgoer.

In reference to an article by Knowles, Richard. “Cordelia’s Return.” Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 50, No. 1 (Spring, 1999), 33-50.

Synopsis:

Knowles attempts an explanation of Cordelia’s return with armies of France to redeem her father, King Lear. Knowles studies the restraints of time and various techniques that Shakespeare may have used to overcome time. He also delves into the questions of how Kent and Cordelia informed each other of his/her intentions – letters not being read or sent before events occurred as an objection.

I first have to convey an annoyance in Knowles writing. After appropriate segues into quotations of other scholars, he pens, “Here is Virginia Gildersleeve in 1912” (44) and “Here is Granville-Barker again:” (45), and “Here is Alan Howard . . . “ (50). “Here is . . . “! Aaaaagh! Opening a quotation with that phrase is equivalent, in my mind, to “my paper is going to tell you . . .,” an essay opener that also grates on me. I stress to my freshman English students that good style builds credibility, and bad style kills credibility. When in a rush, I falter in writing in good style, but in a formal, published document, I hope that I and all good writers would strive for the best in style. (Okay, rant over).
I like Knowles approach to the dilemma of explaining Cordelia’s return. By breaking it down into one rationalization based upon time, a second on motive, and a third on method, he effectively covers all angles of the predicament. In one area of his essay, I thought that he fails to account for the compression of time in King Lear. I asked myself, “How many real days have passed before Kent was imprisoned?” and “How many real days is Kent in prison?” Thankfully, Knowles later discourses on “double time” and the amount of the story that occurs offstage.
Knowles notes that Cordelia has several possible motives for her return. He identifies several including: France’s “choler” brought on by the treatment of his wife, France’s retaliation for losing the dowry in his marriage to Cordelia, Cordelia’s intuition of her sisters’ radical treatment of her father, and (Cordelia learning of Lear’s downfall from spies) her true concern in restoring her father to his throne. I, as Knowles in his conclusion, feel that Shakespeare has left an ambiguous motive on purpose. If the motive were clearly depicted in the play, it would detract from the suspense and from the dominant plot. Cordelia’s motive is hinted in her discussion with Lear about returning to assist him, but scholars and critics argue the point (how could she have known?).
I feel the answer to Cordelia’s motive and her upheld virtue lies in the compression of time combined with the theory of “double time.” I do not think that either model independently fits King Lear, but I do think that somehow a combination of the two will work (wow – a thesis is born – I will need a combination of both in my own life in order to get this one worked out). Concisely, the suspense of Lear requires the compression of time, hinting at, or even alluding to, offstage events. The logic of the plot requires “double time” where the offstage events, which naturally would occur at a slower pace in reality, are compressed to simulate simultaneity with onstage events. A combination of both models allows the plot to dramaturgically flow naturally and retain the suspense. An audience member would “lose” a couple of hours because so much action is packed into a short amount of time. Mentally the audience viewed the compression of a few weeks into a few hours, but physically, because of so much action, a four-hour play feels like it only took two hours. When done well, this strategy would enable sitting through a Lord of the Rings movie. When done poorly, it would account for the loss of 3 ½ hours of your life wasted watching The Titanic. Unraveling the mystery of time allows for the multiple correspondences between Kent and Cordelia alluded to in the play. This also permits the reality of the spies traveling back and forth between Albany, Cornwall, Gloucester, Dover, and France. Logic then concludes that Cordelia is well informed of events, and she and France are honorable in their intentions of leading a French invasion.
Knowles mentions in following the events of Lear, the audience “must rely on only its own attentiveness” (43). Shakespeare must have thought so too. Leaving mysteries up to the audience’s interpretation creates a broader spectrum of meaning for the play – a sense of universality.

In reference to article by Snyder, Susan. “Mamillius and Gender Polarization in The Winter’s Tale.” Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 50, No. 1 (Spring, 1

Synopsis:

Mamillius’s sickness and death may have been a result of pulling him away from his mother too early. The custom of the time dictated that a male child wore a coat (a unisex dress) until approximately age seven. During the first childhood period (before age seven), the boy required a maternal touch and was predominantly in the company of women. The boy was to be nurtured and cared for by women until his rite of passage – breeching, the replacement of the coat for breeches and a sword. At approximately seven, or when mature enough, the boy was removed from contact with women, except for “an ancient and sad matron attending on him in his chamber” as in the case of Sir Thomas Slingsby’s son (3). The boy was then trained in becoming a nobleman. Most scholars argue that Mamillius was between the ages of nine and eleven, but Snyder effectively argues that he was probably five, too young to be breeched and withdrawn from his mother and the waiting women.

Wow! The boy/girl separation of the Elizabethan era exposes some subtleties carried on in contemporary society. This topic fascinates me – I am in awe of the partition between male and female. The boy child is nurtured until he is ready to take the step toward manhood. Snyder notes that Edward VI, among others, was excited to become breeched. Some even did not want to wait. Mamillius fell sick and died when separated from the women. If he really was five, Snyder’s research dictates that he was still in the weak and vulnerable stage. It was not until seven that boys were considered tough enough to be removed from nurturing. Tough enough to receive a sword at seven as well. I am also surprised that the boy is kept away from his mother after he is breeched. I assume that any further association with his mother would “over-nurture” the boy and turn him effeminate. If the boy is supposed to be toughened up after breeching, any involvement with the mother could hamper that – leaving him weak. It is interesting that the same nurturing that can cause damage after the age of seven is vital before the age of seven.
Snyder uses the mother-son bond to explain the death of Mamillius – separation anxiety. The characters blamed various reasons: Leontes – Hermione’s dishonor, Paulina – the unwarranted dishonoring of Hermione, and a servant – anticipation of Hermione’s death (separation anxiety?). The servant comes closest in blaming Mamillius’s death on a form of separation anxiety. Snyder faults Leontes for taking away the child at a time that he still requires the nurturing and attention of his mother. The servant suggests that Mamillius’s grief of his mother’s pending death (a permanent separation) resulted in a sickness leading to his own death. If Mamillius had been past the breeching age (seven or older), logic would dictate that he would have been strong enough consciously to handle his mother’s expected death. Snyder’s theory about Mamillius being five years old makes the most sense under these conditions.

In reference to article by Kidnie, Margaret Jane. “Text, Performance, and the Editors: Staging Shakespeare’s Drama.” Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 51

Synopsis:

Kidnie discourses on editors’ revisions of stage directions and the effect on staging the performance and on the reader of the text. Her conclusion asserts that the nebentext (side text – including stage directions) is as important as the haupttext (dialogue). Any modification made to the stage directions not only alters the performance, but also restricts the reader’s interpretation of the text.

Kidnie essentially plays devil’s advocate to other scholars’ theories. I can see that on one side, the stage directions are there to be followed. In some plays, the writer demands that the play only be commissioned if the director adamantly follows all stage directions perfectly. In my opinion, this is excessively anal. I tend to belong to the other faction that looks at stage directions as suggestions. If stage directions are viewed in this manner, various productions will have an original appeal to them. My belief on stage directions made the article a difficult read. If the stage directions are viewed as suggestions, who cares if they may have been modified? A suggestion is open for acceptance anyway. The job of the director is to decide how to effectively block the scene so a performance will run fluidly. The director is responsible for interpreting the action of the scene and deciding if any modifications need to be made. If a script requires a player to enter from upstage left and the stage does not allow for an entrance at upstage left because of space or design of the set, then the obvious thing to do is modify.
I do agree that the stage directions are important, but I do not believe they should be held at an equal value to that of the dialogue. One of Kidnie’s examples included discourse by Michael Warren about a possible missing stage direction in the quarto text of King Lear. Lear may die anywhere during the speech, but is not given a definitive time to die. That’s great! It allows for interpretation, as it should. Changes in dialogue, in my opinion, should be given strict care. There are times when a word here or there needs to be altered to appease the director, but that should be minimal – in fact, most play contracts forbid altering dialogue.