Couples in Much Ado about Nothing

Much Ado about Nothing proves that Shakespeare was aware of and capable of creating a relationship of equals. 

Benedict and Beatrice are so well-matched in terms of intelligence, wit, and independence that various retellings of the tale, from Branagh's magnificent and lush masterpiece to Shakespeare's Retold lovely modernization with Sarah Parish and Damian Lewis do not need to "fix" the relationship to make us moderns feel more comfortable. Beatrice and Benedict are entirely comprehensible to us. 

Hero and Claude are less likable--of which truth I think Shakespeare is well-aware. If Claude's behavior--shaming her at her wedding--wasn't so reprehensible, Beatrice would have no reason to demand that Benedict challenge Claude. He would have no reason to take her part. 

The problem isn't the anger and jealousy that Claude feels. Shakespeare, as always, is dealing with entirely believable and recognizable human emotions. The problem is, Why would Hero take him back? 

Shakespeare Re-Told leaves the matter open. And even the play veers away from the youthful idiots to the couple that draws us in. 

One of the best couples in all literature!  

V is for Vivacious Voigt and a Vital Romantic Hero

Cynthia Voigt's paperbacks are usually teen novels. However, she wrote an adult novel Glass Mountain which is a modern (for the time, 1990s) screwball comedy in the Cary Grant and Clark Gable (It Happened One Night) tradition. 

In fact, the protagonist, Gregor, is, as Castle would say, "ruggedly handsome" rather than strictly good-looking. 

The book is delightful! It is the story of a butler/valet who is trying to land himself a rich wife. He is a romantic who falls in love but thinks he is trying to work the system. 

Voigt relies almost entirely on show-not-tell to make clear to us that whatever Gregor may believe about himself, or say about himself, he is a good guy and worth investing in:

1. Like Darcy with Elizabeth, he is attracted to Alexis from the beginning. 

He doesn't believe she is beautiful. He does acknowledge that she dresses wrongly for her "Renaissance" look. But he is aware of her and not entirely indifferent from Day 1. His attraction grows. 

2. He is bowled over by her intelligence, understated wit, and interests from Day 1. 

3. His "plan" does not involve him inviting women to outings he doesn't enjoy himself. 

He and Alexis share interests if not taste. 

4. He is old enough, 33, to not mistake titillation for actually interesting things.

His boss, Theo, is another great writing example of show-not-tell. He isn't horrible or bad (and the book ends quite nicely with him back in the arms of a woman who possibly truly cares for him); he is, however, as shallow as ditch-water. 

Gregor's exact motivations for his deliberate plan (to marry any rich woman) are never entirely defined (other than that he is more romantic than he realizes): revenge at a particular class, disillusionment, cynicism, despair? 

He does see some of himself in Theo. But he is being unfair to himself. Theo quite definitely mistakes titillation for "coolness," like a boy who, maturity-wise, has never grown beyond high school. (As one point, Gregor marvels at the women Theo is able to attract, but Theo has a kind of random generosity that makes him whatever the women want him to be: Gregor is more complicated, and Alexis will more than be able to handle him!) 

5. He honestly respects women. 

He is kind to Theo's mother, waiting for her to finish her sentences. He is careful, almost from the beginning, with Alexis because he quickly surmises that she can run rings around him and only doesn't because she is diffident and doubtful of her own powers. He doesn't use her weaknesses--such her apologies--against her. 

Whatever Gregor believes about himself, the reader finds him worth investing in--and Alexis is delightful. 

For a reformed bad boy...or maybe a reformed Darcy...or maybe a reformed Rochester...Gregor is a more than decent addition!  

Joseph of Old and His Partners

The Bible states that Joseph in Genesis married Asenath daughter of Potipher. This Potipher is not Joseph's first master but rather a priest in Egypt. Nevertheless, various writers have paired Joseph with Potipher's daughter--like Snow White and her wicked stepmother, Asenath and Potipher's wife are in competition for Joseph. 

At least one version puts Joseph with Potipher's wife--after Potipher dies, of course, and she has undergone various trials. 

From The Torah.com which tells

 the story of Joseph and Asenath.

There's a great many possibilities, in fact, since Joseph is the original guy-who-pulled-himself-up-by-his-ability-to-interpret-and-plan. A potential father-in-law could be supportive or cautious. 

However, the relationship, no matter how romantic, will always pale in the face of the more powerful and important relationships: Joseph and his brothers. The wife might inspire Joseph; she might witness the events. But it's hard to see any inherent drama in the relationship--

Which hasn't stop writers from trying!  

 

Translation by Eugene Woodbury Available

Eugene completed a number of translations, most notably translations of Twelve Kingdoms novels. He understood that a translation is itself an art--not something that can be left to a machine. A translation needs to capture the tone and pacing of an original--as well as its allusions, even jokes!

In the past few years, he completed translations of Ranpo Edogawa's Boy Detectives Club books.

The first translation he made, The Space Alien, is now available on his blog.

The year is 1953. The Korean War is winding down. The Cold War is heating up. In 1952, the United States tested the first hydrogen bomb. In 1954, Godzilla will stomp onto the world stage. UFOs are appearing all over the world. And in Ranpo Edogawa’s latest young adult novel, five flying saucers zoom across the skies of Tokyo.

A day after that alarming incident, a woodsman stumbles out of the forest to report the landing of an alien spacecraft in the mountains southwest of Tokyo. A month later, Ichiro Hirano’s neighbor goes missing. He then reappears as abruptly as he vanished, claiming he was kidnapped by a mysterious winged lizard creature—

The same lizard creature that is now stalking the pretty and talented sister of Ichiro’s best friend. What in the world is going on? What do the aliens want? These are the kind of questions that only master sleuth Kogoro Akechi and the Boy Detectives Club can hope to answer.

Bromance, Sister Style: Brenda and Captain Raydor

Brenda and Captain Raydor (Sharon) meet in The Closer. They are frenemies since Captain Raydor works in Internal Affairs and takes issue with many of Brenda's actions. The two women acknowledge, quite frankly, that they don't like each other. 

However, Captain Raydor has the objectivity to put forward Brenda for the position of police chief or commissioner. She admires Brenda even if they are not best buddies. She later protects Brenda or, rather, gets Brenda to protect herself during a lawsuit. 

In a very cute moment in Season 6, Brenda's mother refers to Sharon, Captain Raydor, as Brenda's friend. Captain Raydor treats the moment as the "treat" or present that it is. To Will Pope, she repeats, "My friend Brenda."  

It's a great example of a relationship that avoids the "all women must cry at Beaches" label on female friendships--it has all the down-to-earth loyalty and intelligence and job-focus of male chivalrous relationships.  

Quite appropriately, Brenda and Sharon are sometimes "shipped"!  

Couples in Midsummer's Night Dream: Not That Romantic

Midsummer's Night Dream can be absolutely hilarious. 

But not because the lovers are terribly likable. I don't think this lack of likability is a mistake on Shakespeare's part. He was fully capable of creating likable lovers. Despite the far greater social stigma, Katherine and Petruchio are delightful. 

But the lovers in Midsummer's Night Dream are kind of jerks. And they bring up the uncomfortable possibility that romantic feelings are entirely arbitrary and significant others entirely replaceable. Although everyone ends up at the end with the significant other that everyone started out with, that pay-off is little more than a contrivance. 

I suggest again that Shakespeare was entirely aware of what he was doing. One appealing aspect of Shakespeare's plays is how many genres they fall into. Philosophy? Sure. Historical reenactment? Sure. Family drama? Sure. Horror? Sure. Romance? Sure. Raunch? High-jinks? Sure. Sure. 

Screwball comedy?  

Okay! 

Midsummer's Night Dream feels like Shakespeare took Romeo & Juliet, which he wrote about the same time, and  turned such emotional excess on its head. You want angst? Heh heh heh. The fairies will give you ANGST. 

“Lord, what fools these mortals be!”

The best version I've ever seen EVER was a televised version of a live "Shakespeare in the Park" starring (I'm not making this up) William Hurt as Oberon. You can find it below (the quality isn't so great). I've never laughed so hard in my life. 

Touchingly enough, the one couple who aren't totally mocked is Bottom and Tatiana. At the very end of the play within the play, he has a moment of greatness as an actor--and all due to spending a night in the otherworld, with the queen of the fairies.

1982 Midsummer Night's Dream, Part 1  

1982 Midsummer Night's Dream, Part II 

 

Disabilities in Romance

I recently wrote about Izzy from Voigt's Izzy-Willy-Nilly. A young woman who loses her leg, she worries that she will never have a boyfriend and marry. The fear is not the author's imposition. It is the natural fear of a young woman from a particular social background. 

The book got me thinking about physical disabilities in fiction. Generally speaking, I don't always find them terribly realistic. Far too often, they seem to involve the protagonist feeling as Izzy does followed by the secondary protagonist, the lover, reassuring the first protagonist, "No, no, it was never a concern!" 

Really? Never a concern? Seriously? Yeah, that makes absolutely no sense. It's rather like books where one protagonist purports to love the soul of another. The love is so abstract, it seems kind of valueless. After all, the difficulty and wonder of love is the reality of the physical, everyday experience.  

The manga Love in the Palm of His Hand is far more realistic (so far--Volume 3 comes out in April). Keito, who is deaf, worries that his disability will make life difficult for his boyfriend. Fujinaga worries that he can't learn sign and that his presence will keep Keito from being comfortable in a group of signing friends. They have various mishaps with communication. Keito's brother is less than supportive of their relationship. Both young men worry about Keito being able to enjoy Fujinaga's stage acting. 

What is impressive is that signing (referenced by the title) is not a solve-it-once-because-the-relationship-is-so-perfect event. It is part of the entire relationship. Fujinaga's over-the-top stage acting style has lost him film roles. Yet that same physical expression fits with what he wants to do in the long run. And it enables him to quickly comprehend and enjoy communicating with his boyfriend. 

Disability is used NOT as "see, the lovers overcame something--hurrah" but, rather, as a way to explore how a relationship functions between two distinct people.