Dramatic Themes Research Articles

Athens, the Unjust Student of Rhetoric: A Dramatic Historical Interpretation of Plato's Gorgias

At a time when Athenians were still trying to explain the loss of their empire, Plato's Gorgias—through its dramatic structure and themes, through its allusions to critical moments in the Peloponnesian War, and through its literary engagements with Thucydides, Isocrates, and Polycrates—challenged both the actuality and legitimacy of that power as well as the rhetoric with which democratic Athenians rationalized their former tyranny. By portraying imperial Athens as an unjust student of sophistic rhetoric, as an immoderate practitioner of opportunistic reasoning, Plato offers an instructive explanation for its defeat. Interpreted in its historical contexts, his Gorgias has new relevance.

When bad things happen to great musicians

Earlier work has shown how jazz can deepen the meanings of a cinematic experience; can enrich the development of plot, character, or other dramatic themes in a motion picture; and can contribute to various aspects of a film’s significance. Conversely, the present essay focuses on how this cinemusical process can break down—leading to unsatisfactory or problematic results—especially in a jazz biopic that portrays the life of a great musician. In this connection, dwelling on the dark side of artistic genius, the essay discusses how cinemusical uses of jazz have failed to provide the needed dramatic effects—falling short of conveying the essence of true tragedy—in three major tragedepictions portraying the undeniably sad lives of Billie Holiday in Lady Sings the Blues (1972); of a Lester Young/Bud Powell/Dexter Gordon composite character in ’Round Midnight (1986); and of Charlie Parker in Bird (1988).

<i>Restless Giant: The United States from Watergate to</i> Bush v. Gore (review)

Reviewed by: Restless Giant: The United States from Watergate to Bush v. Gore Kent Blaser RESTLESS GIANT: The United States from Watergate to Bush v. Gore. By James T. Patterson. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press. 2005. Restless Giant, a comprehensive treatment of U.S. history from 1975 to 2000, is the fifth volume to appear in Oxford University Press's much acclaimed but also troubled History of the United States series. The first four volumes set an impressive standard—two Pulitzer Prize winners, a third Pulitzer nomination, and a 1997 Bancroft Prize for Patterson's own Grand Expectations: The United States, 1945–74 (Patterson is the only author with two volumes in the series). [End Page 100] For the most part this book measures up well with its illustrious predecessors. Like the other books in the series, Restless Giant aims at a broad, non-specialist audience and is wide-ranging, comprehensive, well written, accessible, and admirably balanced and judicious in its conclusions. More than half the book focuses on domestic political issues, but there is significant coverage of international, economic, social, cultural, and popular culture material. Not surprisingly, given Patterson's background and interests, treatment of racial and ethnic issues is especially strong. It is easy in a work of this sort to lose the forest for the trees, and the period under consideration here is a difficult one, lacking obvious big dramatic themes. In Grand Expectations the overall story was one of a gradual downward trajectory from the optimism, even euphoria, of the end of World War II to the doldrums of the early 1970s, with Vietnam, Watergate, the demise of the civil rights movement and increasing divisions over social and cultural issues. Here the story is more positive, and to some degree highlights resilience, recovery, perhaps even national rejuvenation and regeneration. More consistently, though, Patterson takes a "best of times, worst of times" approach. Positives are balanced with negatives, and despite many tangible signs of progress and accomplishment, Americans often remained troubled, pessimistic, and ideologically divided. Perhaps the single most important specific development in the book involves the emergence of Reagan and the conservative political and religious right, with a corresponding collapse of nearly a half century of liberal hegemony. Even this is muted, however, by Patterson's sense of the limitations of Reagan's and conservatism's achievements. At best conservatives attained a kind of rough parity with still strong liberal inclinations and tendencies. If Reagan is the more important President in many ways, Clinton is perhaps a better representative of American society during this time. What does all of this have to do with American Studies? That's not an easy question to answer. History is a capacious discipline, and Patterson is a capacious historian. Still, Restless Giant, and the Oxford series generally, represent a very traditional kind of history. Despite the inclusion of gender, ethnic, and popular culture materials, the main focus is political and the tenor emphasizes breadth, balance, objectivity, and readability for a general audience rather than depth and analysis for professional academics. For many well informed readers there will not be a lot new here, and the limitations of the time period may make this a bit less satisfying than several of its predecessors, including Patterson's own Grand Expectations. Nonetheless, within the confines of the assigned genre this is another outstanding book from the Oxford series. Kent Blaser Wayne State College, Wayne, Nebraska Copyright © 2008 Mid-America American Studies Association

Moral Opposition to Philip in Pre-Lopean Drama

No dudo yo, senr, sino que importa regir con dura freno la milicia, y que se de al soldado rienda corta cuando el se precipita en la injusticia. La fuerza del ejercito se acorta cuando va sin arrimode justicia, antique mas le acompanen a montones mil pintadas banderas y escnadrones(Cervantes, La vv. 57-64)As the Spanish Empire expanded in the second half of the sixteenth century, King Philip II's policies began to change in a manner deemed by many to be immoral and unjust. Moralists and intellectuals of the day chose their own media to express their concern and fear of tyranny as Philip increasingly threatened to use military force to obtain the crown of Portugal in the late 1570s; moral treatises, pamphlets, epic poems, and dramatic works arose to communicate social commentary. Relatively recently, Golden Age scholars have begun to focus more attention on subversive political discourse written by dramatists preceding Lope de Vega (1562-1635) and the rise of the comcdia inteva, concentrating their efforts almost exclusively on Miguel de Cervantes's (1547-1616) La destruccion de (c. 1583). Furthermore, an increasing number of scholars has analyzed Cervantes's history play as a covert criticism of Philip II's government, rather than the overtly patriotic propaganda derived from a literal reading of the dialogue. In the 1970s, Alfredo Hermenegildo's book-length study La Numancia de Cervantes, which echoes some of his findings in his 1973 book on tragedy in the Spanish Renaissance, and Willard F. King's groundbreaking article represent two of the first challenges to the generally accepted reading of La Nitmancin as a proimperialistic work. Since then, works by the likes of Frederick A. de Armas, E. C. Graf, Michael Armstrong-Roche, Barbara Simerka, and later studies by Hermenegildo have surfaced that further validate the notion that in the play imperial rule is seen in a troublesome light (De Armas 130).While Cervantes's play certainly merits the meticulous studies it has received, it becomes apparent that La serves as only one example of a broader range of theatrical works from the 1570s and 1580s that portray similar derogatory opinions of the Spanish king. Hermenegildo reminds us that this time period contained a great amount of tension between the monarch in Castile and those on the periphery affected by his policies (Antologia 15), sentiments he expresses on other occasions (La tragedia 17; La Numancia 47; El tirano 14). A thorough investigation of the plays of Gabriel Lobo Lasso de la Vega (1559-1623), Jeronimo Bermudez (1530?-1605?), el canonigo Francisco Augustin Tarrega (1553?-1623), Cristobal de Virues (1550?-1609), Cervantes, and especially Juan de la Cueva (1543-1612), reveals two important points: there existed a very real fear of tyrannical overlordship among Golden Age Spaniards, and the critical discourse contained in these works draws attention to the notion that the reign of Philip II was by no means free from dissenting voices.1Several plays by these writers speak directly or indirectly to their creators' reservations about Philip's shift from his father's policy of Christian Imperialism to the pursuit of a more aggressive Universal Monarchy. Until the 1570s, Philip had continued Charles V's method of not expanding his European territories, at least not at the expense of other Christians. Rather, he seemed to have taken a more defensive approach; but when he claimed the Portuguese crown for himself, this signaled a change in policy and ignited great criticism from many of his subjects, including these playwrights. These writers regarded this new strategy as dangerous and unjustified, as seen by their depiction of tyranny, as well as their illustration in many instances of the consequences of either autocratic rule or ambition.2The injustice of tyranny, despotic rulers, and totalitarian regimes influenced by ambitious courtiers, were popular literary and dramatic themes in the Golden Age. …

Carl Nielsen Unmasked. Art and Popular Musical Styles in Maskarade

Although Carl Nielsen’s international reputation rests on his symphonies, in Denmark he is equally beloved for his songs. Over the course of his life, the former increased in complexity as the latter grew more folk-like, so that Nielsen developed into a Janus-faced composer, a master of both art and popular styles. These genres typically have been studied in isolation so that, though many scholars note that Nielsen’s music is full of contrast, few show that this depends on the opposition of two specific styles. Nor has a parallel been drawn between this musical tension and the conflicts Nielsen faced in his personal life, not the least of which was the insidious Law of Jante (“Thou shalt not believe thou art something”) that has plagued many a nationalist artist. Nowhere is Nielsen’s opposition of art and popular styles more effective than in Maskarade (1904-1906), arguably the Danes’s favorite among his compositions, in which the two styles represent conflicting dramatic themes and serve to distinguish between the characters. Ludvig Holberg’s eighteenth-century comedy provided Nielsen with a particularly apt and surprisingly current dramatic framework in which to play out the musical and personal tensions he experienced midway through his career. Nielsen’s opera is an interdependent literary-musical statement in which he underscored the dramatic themes and characterized the main roles with appropriate musical styles drawn from the entire range of his compositional personae. The masked ball’s utopian blurring of class distinctions is modeled musically in the symmetrical key scheme that fuses this musico-dramatic continuum.

AMICI ET SODALES: AN EXAMINATION OF A DOUBLE MOTIF IN PLAUTUS

AbstractOne of the ways in which Plautus investigates friendship is through his use of the stock characters so central to Roman comedy. Among the twelve stock characters of comedy that Apuleius lists, appears the figure of the sodalis opitulator (the 'helpful mate'), who has not so far drawn much attention. Not only does Plautus use this character frequently, in five of his twenty extant plays he employs not one friend, but two, as a double motif. In these plays, Plautus uses these double stock characters to parody the ideals of friendship which had developed in the literary tradition, and to play with the conventions of drama as part of a metatheatrical approach to comedy. By a doubling of this motif, Plautus highlights friendship, in order to look at other literary or dramatic themes that include the ideal literary friendship, the supremacy of the Plautine slave and drama itself.

Signifying God: Social Relations and Symbolic Act in the York Corpus Christi Plays (review)

226Comparative Drama Sarah Beckwith. SignifyingGod:SocialRelations andSymbolicAct in the York Corpus Christi Plays. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001. Pp. 296, illustrated. $35.00. Sarah Beckwith's Signifying God: Social Relations and Symbolic Act in the York Corpus Chrùti Plays is an important, although in some ways frustrating, new bookbya significant scholar ofmedieval culture, one who applies modern theory to early modern texts. Her full title accurately suggests the book's emphases: "Social Relations" are truly at its center. God as signified, as implied by her main title, functions primarily as an index of social wholeness, fragmentation, or tension. God is a transcendental signifier, and, unlike some critics associated with cultural materialism, Beckwith acknowledges the possibility that real emotional , social, and even spiritual value might inhere in this all-encompassing sign. TheYork Corpus Christi plays themselves are a more tertiary concern. The weighting of these emphases is both the strength and weakness of the book, which often astutely draws upon the semiotics of Wittengenstein (usually mediated through Stanley Cavell) and the theological ideas ofRowan Williams and William Cavanaugh, among others, in order to investigate medieval social relations and how they found expression in Christ's Body in many different ways. In this focus her new book extends her earlier works, Christ's Body: Identity, Culture and Society in Late Medieval Writings (1993) and the collection of essays she coedited, Catholicism and Catholicity: Eucharistie Communities in Hûtoricaland Contemporary Perspectives (2000). It also has obvious connections to other culturally oriented expositions ofthe significance ofreligion in medieval England, most notably David Aers and Lynn Staley's The Powers ofthe Holy ( 1996). Developing upon many ofthe ideas in her first book, here Beckwith focuses upon the multivalent nature ofChrist's body: as corpse, as empty tomb, as Eucharist, as devotional icon, as ritual, as sacrament, as Church, as civic and corporate symbol, as performer (whether priest or actor), and as dramatic performance itself, to tie together the many strands ofthe book. While not attempting to include all ofsalvation history, as the York Corpus Christi plays do, Beckwith does manage to encompass much of the history of York, and—in an enlightening opening chapter, links the revival ofthe plays in 1951 to the Festival of Britain and postwar concerns about British identity. In later chapters, she extends her reach both historically and theoretically. Building on the ideas of Emile Durkheim, Mary Douglas, and Mervyn James, she develops the equation between Christ'sbodyand the socialbody, especiallyas it has manifested itselfinYork. For Beckwith, any staging ofCorpus Christi plays is polysemous, with multiple contexts and stages, sometimes with multiple actors taking on the role ofChrist, while multiple audiences interpret the plays in Reviews227 highlyvariable ways. The ambiguity and multivalency ofmeaning that she postulates circulates most densely around the body of Christ himself, and she focuses in particular on the paradox of a human actor portraying Christ and its possible relationships to the theatricality of the Mass. The book thus goes well beyond theYork Cycle itselfto explore the relationship between the church and theater: both could work in ways she terms "sacramental," and both perform the body oí Christ in various ways. She particularly explores how a human actor portraying Christ could affect the audience's perception ofChrist's presence in the Mass, of their contemporary religious or social context, or of their personal relation to the divine. Perhaps the most interesting section ofher book to theater historians will be chapter 7, in which she looks at how Reformers came to interpret transubstantiation as a "piece de théâtre" (xvii), seeing the dramas as simultaneously demystifying (and desacralizing) the sacramental power of the Catholic Mass even as some ofthe city fathers attempted to sustain the plays for being both sacramental in themselves and for providing authority for traditional religious practice. While this is not a wholly new idea, it is powerfully worked out and applied to York here. For theorists ofperformance and culture, the most provocative chapter will probably be the final one, which circles back to the initial chapter to explore how modern treatments of medieval dramatic themes continue to struggle with issues of culture, religion, and identity. Not all sections ofthe book are equally satisfying...

Carl Nielsen unmasked: Art and popular musical styles in Maskarade

Although Carl Nielsen's international reputation rests on his symphonies, in his homeland he is equally beloved for his songs. Over the course of his life, the former increased in complexity as the latter grew more folk‐like, so that Nielsen developed into a Janus‐faced composer, a master of both art and popular styles. These genres typically have been studied in isolation so that, though many scholars note that Nielsen's music is full of contrast, few show that this depends on the opposition of two specific styles. Nor has a parallel been drawn between this musical tension and the conflicts Nielsen faced in his personal life, not the least of which was the insidious Law of Jante ("Thou shalt not believe thou art something") that has plagued many an artist from a “peripheral” nation. Nowhere is Nielsen's opposition of art and popular styles more effective than in Maskarade (1904–1906), arguably the Danes’ favorite among his compositions, in which the two styles represent conflicting dramatic themes and serve to distinguish between the characters. Ludvig Holberg's eighteenth‐century comedy provided Nielsen with a particularly apt and surprisingly current dramatic framework in which to play out the musical and personal tensions he experienced midway through his career. Nielsen's opera is an interdependent literary‐musical statement in which he underscored the dramatic themes and characterized the main roles with appropriate musical styles drawn from the entire range of his compositional personae. The masked ball's Utopian blurring of class distinctions is modeled musically in the symmetrical key scheme that fuses this musico‐dramatic continuum. Far from deserving international obscurity, Maskarade compares favorably with Strauss's Der Rosenkavalier, whose eighteenth‐century setting and tone it predates.

From the Tomb of Stanislaus to the Tomb of Peter: A Preface

From the Tomb of Stanislaus to the Tomb of Peter: A Preface I want to describe die Church, my Church, which bound itself to my land (this was said: "Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven"), dius to my land my Church is bound. The land lies in die Vistula basin, the tributaries swell in spring when the snows thaw in die Carpathians. The Church bound itself to my land so that all it binds here should be bound in heaven. —John Paul II, "Stanislaus" The word, before it is ever spoken on the stage, is already present in human history as a fundamental dimension of man's spiritual experience . Ultimately, the mystery of language brings us back to the inscrutable mystery of God himself. As I came to appreciate the power of the word in my literary and linguistic studies, I inevitably drew closer to the mystery of the Word—that Word of which we speak Logos 1:2 1997 From the Tomb of Stanislaus to the Tomb of Peter every day in the Angelus: "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us (Jn 1:14). —John Paul II, Mystery and Gift Of the thousands of photographs and images that abound of John Paul II both before and after his election to the papacy, three are especially poignant. Each tells a different story, reveals a different dimension of the man. But each shares a common dramatic theme of solicitude. Two are quite well known (they have been reprinted or re-telecast often enough that even the most casual follower of this papacy will recognize them); the third is lesser known. The first image captures John Paul II in a dramatic moment of reconciliation with his would-be assassin Ali Agca in Rebibbia Prison on 27 December 1983. Some photographs of the event show the Pope and Agca seated and huddled in intimate conversation . The photograph reprinted in His Holiness:John Paul II and the Hidden History ofOur Time—the one to which I am primarily referring —shows the two standing; Agca has placed his head in the Pope's right hand and the Pope's left rests onAgca's back in a drawing -in gesture.1 As G. H.Williams observes, The published photograph of the confidential exchange between the Christian victim-priest and the repentant Muslim assassin-by-intent served globally among Catholics and others as a powerful icon of penance in the confessional and absolution and in this case ofextraordinary , exemplary mutual reconciliation.2 In the second image, Stefan CardinalWyszinski, the Primate of Poland, kneels before the just-invested John Paul II and before he can pledge his fidelity, the Pope stands, raises (practically hoists) him up, and embraces him. This image is more than a sentimental Logos one; it is more than one ofjust gratitude to a former superior and fellow bishop. It is an acknowledgment of all the suffering that the Church and Polish nation has endured and of the many sacrifices Wyszinski has made on behalfofthe cross and the eagle. So touching is the moment that Herbert Wise, the director of the 1983 movie about John Paul II (starring Albert Finney), felt it could not be just enacted; and thus, toward the end, the film shifts to the grainy news-reel footage of the procession of cardinals; at the moment of the embrace the frame freezes and the film blooms once again into a color enactment of the moment.3 This bit is technically inferior to the bright colors, sharp images, and sophisticated camera work of the rest of the film, but it exceeds all else in its drama, authenticity, and hope. It shows not a pontiffbut a devoted son of Poland. Unlike the first two images that have been singled out, the third captures a comparatively ordinary moment.4 The scene is a nondescript room in the Catholic University of Lublin in 1967. At a table sits Cardinal Karol Wojtyla, pen in hand, bent with concentration over some pages, which are partially obscured by a portfolio at the front. At Wojtyia's right—to the left of the photograph —is Professor Teresa Rylska. What is unusual is that the...

Bordering on Chaos: Guerrillas, Stockbrokers, Politicians, and Mexico's Road to Prosperity (review)

Reviewed by: Bordering on Chaos: Guerrillas, Stockbrokers, Politicians, and Mexico’s Road to Prosperity Russell Crandall Bordering on Chaos: Guerrillas, Stockbrokers, Politicians, and Mexico’s Road to Prosperity. Andres Oppenheimer. Boston: Little, Brown & Company, 1996. 367 pp. $25.95/Cloth. Few countries can claim to have fallen as quickly into a chasm of unpredictability and chaos as Mexico. Guerrilla insurrection, political assassinations, and financial disaster are just a few of the problems that have plagued this star-crossed country of late. In Bordering on Chaos, Andres Oppenheimer, Latin American correspondent for the Miami Herald, does much to put these events into perspective. Relying upon keen insight and access to billionaire businessmen and top government officials, Oppenheimer interprets the rhetoric and myths that, as he explains, make Mexico one of the most difficult countries to understand. Brilliant journalistic analyses of issues, such as the 1994 peso crisis, and flamboyant characters, such as ex-president Carlos Salinas de Gotari and Zapatista leader Subcomandante Marcos, make this a fascinating book for Mexico watchers and anyone else interested in events south of the border. In this attempt to make sense of contemporary Mexico, Oppenheimer weaves together several dramatic themes. He begins with an analysis of Mexico’s privileged class. Oppenheimer compares Mexico’s chameleon-like ruling elite to Plato’s cave: “You only saw the shadows and you never knew which shadow belonged to whom.” This notion of ambiguity pervades the book, and draws the reader into the ÔMexican’ way of doing things. Once this multifaceted nature of the Mexican psyche is understood, Oppenheimer suggests that economic crises, Indian insurrections, and rampant corruption take on a logic of their own. A second theme, and the one on which Oppenheimer is most insightful, is the emergence in 1994 of the Zapatista movement, which shocked not just Mexico’s political elite but the entire world. From the first day of their uprising—the very day NAFTA went into effect—the Zapatistas became the darlings of the international media and a favorite of the “radical chic” cause taken up by the likes of Oliver Stone and Danielle Mitterand. Oppenheimer is not fooled by this naive fascination, and reports the Zapatistas as they are: indigenous guerrillas and sympathizers, led by erstwhile urban, [End Page 195] middle-class, Marxist intellectuals. Thus, while never doubting the sincerity of the Indians’ cause or discounting the endemic poverty and exploitation that they have endured, Oppenheimer exposes some of the contradictions and hypocrisies of their charismatic leader, Subcomandante Marcos. In one particularly humorous example, Oppenheimer spends days trekking through the Chiapas jungle in search of that greatly sought-after interview with Marcos. By the time he arrives at Marcos’ secret hide-out, Oppenheimer’s clothes are caked in dirt, while Marcos, who has ostensibly adopted all of the characteristics and habits of the Indians he champions, emerges in a perfectly-ironed, white dress shirt. During Oppenheimer’s interview with Marcos, he is startled when Marcos shifts the conversation away from politics to other topics, such as how much he misses fine chocolate and the urbane life of Mexico City. Oppenheimer entered the jungle assuming that Marcos would rail against the capitalist oppressors, who were exploiting the indigenous peoples. He was hardly prepared to hear that, instead of class warfare, Marcos wanted to talk about candy and bohemian cafes. Again, the reader sees how Mexico’s elite present one image, while all the time acting out another. Obviously, this dual character is not unique to Mexico. Yet, as Oppenheimer vividly shows, in Mexico it assumes a sense of surrealism which borders on the absurd. The 1994 presidential election, which ended in victory for Ernesto Zedillo of the ruling Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI), is yet another instance where Mexico’s unique political and social dynamics came into play. Oppenheimer’s claim is that, while the election itself was essentially clean, the electoral process was so biased and corrupt that it made the actual voting process a farce. He cites the tremendous influence that Televisa, a virtual television monopoly with historic ties to the PRI, had in the months preceding the election. For instance, the Party of the Democratic Revolution (PRD) and the National Action Party...

Signore: Shogun of the Warring States

Two dramatic themes combine in this powerful novel: a heroic figure struggling toward a destiny both glorious and tragic, and the confluence of two cultures, each with its own rich tradition and world view.

Social-Cognitive Play Patterns in Same-Age and Mixed-Age Preschool Classrooms

Recent theoretical propositions and some research findings suggest that children may acquire unique adaptational advantages through mixed-age socialization. To further examine these claims, children’s social-cognitive modes of play and peer responses to them were observed in two classrooms of 3-year-olds, in two classrooms of 4-year-olds, and in two mixed-age classrooms of 3- and 4-year-olds. Observations were conducted during 10 5-minute sessions during indoor free-play periods. Analyses revealed developmental differences in play patterns in same-age but not in mixed-age classrooms. Three-year-olds in mixed-age classrooms were more likely to engage in “complex” modes of play than 3-year-olds in same-age classrooms. There were no program or age differences in the number of different dramatic themes used by children. Within the mixed-age classrooms, interactive modes of play were dispersed somewhat evenly across age/sex groups. The data are discussed with respect to the implications of mixed-age preschool classrooms for attaining educational goals.

Social-Cognitive Play Patterns in Same-Age and Mixed-Age Preschool Classrooms

Recent theoretical propositions and some research findings suggest that children may acquire unique adaptational advantages through mixed-age socialization. To further examine these claims, children’s social-cognitive modes of play and peer responses to them were observed in two classrooms of 3-year-olds, in two classrooms of 4-year-olds, and in two mixed-age classrooms of 3- and 4-year-olds. Observations were conducted during 10 5-minute sessions during indoor free-play periods. Analyses revealed developmental differences in play patterns in same-age but not in mixed-age classrooms. Three-year-olds in mixed-age classrooms were more likely to engage in “complex” modes of play than 3-year-olds in same-age classrooms. There were no program or age differences in the number of different dramatic themes used by children. Within the mixed-age classrooms, interactive modes of play were dispersed somewhat evenly across age/sex groups. The data are discussed with respect to the implications of mixed-age preschool classrooms for attaining educational goals.

`Toleranz? Noch spür' ich sie nicht': Erwin Sylvanus' Modern Sequel to Lessing's Die Juden

Hamann reported to Herder in May, 1779, that Kant had dismissed the just published Nathan der Weise disparagingly 'blos als den 2. Theil der Juden.' 2 This verdict was scarcely upheld even among the mixed reactions of 1779, and to-day – with Nathan securely established as a classic of both literature and stage – we may simply reflect patronizingly that great men have their off-moments. But what of the implication in Kant's remark that the earlier play is incomplete? It is a commonplace of modern Lessing-criticism to commend Die Juden as an extraordinary work for its twenty-year-old author in 1749, while adding that this brave attempt to fuse serious subject and traditional comic form does not quite succeed. 3 Clearly Lessing could exploit prejudice as a dramatic theme only in a limited way: the serious topic is as alien to the comedy-world of the mid-eighteenth century as the Jew is to the country estate, on which he can impinge for less than the day's span allowed by the dramatic unities. The revelation of identity, which in the conventional satiric comedy would have begun a

The Development of Imagery in Calderón's Comedias (review)

REVIEWS WILLIAM R. BLUE, The Development of Imagery in Calderón's Comedias . York, South Carolina: Spanish Literature Publications Company , 1983. $18.00 In many ways this is an interesting and useful book. William Blue studies several plays of Calderón (a total of sixteen) from the point of view of the function of imagery in its relationship to character and theme. The images, then, are seen not only as spectacle, as Aristotle regarded the scenography of Greek drama, relegating it to the outskirts of classical art, but as essential and especially meaningful and significant aesthetic elements of the Comedias. Blue divides Calderón's production into three periods. From 1623 to 1629 we have a group of comedias that share certain common features with regard to imagery: some major images dominate the plays (the contrast lightness-darkness, certain animal images like the horse and the asp, the cosmic forces of wind or the sea, or the four elements). They function as intermediaries between the inner and the outer world; that is to say, the relationship of external surroundings and the emotions of the characters is expressed through poetic images. In this way the great dramatic themes of honor, love, appearance and reality, fate and fortune , acquire a vivid, metaphoric presence on the stage. In the second period, 1630-1649, «Calderón's imagery becomes more organic, more concise, more balanced, and more complex. The bond between imagery and atmosphere, character, theme, and structure becomes unbreakable » (p. 59). The functional character of the images and the economy in their use are brought to an extreme: few images are present in a play for a decorative reason or as a result of the exercise of an exuberance of the imagination; they play a role in character development or in the signifying connexion of man's fate with his world (nature or society): the sea that surrounds the action of El mayor 207 208BCom, Vol. 35, No. 2 (Winter 1983) monstruo del mundo embodies the forces of fate, as the towers, labyrinth and tombs that imprision Marienne symbolically incorporate the oppression that the diabolic jealousy of the tetrarch progressively introduces in her life. This signifying power acquires a certain magnificence in the last period, 1650-1681, when the whole of nature seems to invade the spectacle of the plays. Nature, the natural force, and the elements take here the form of the gods of classical mythology and, through their presence, a certain metamorphosis takes place. The divine character of Creation, and the triumph of life over death is visually represented: «In the last plays, death is not the final word. While it is true that characters do die, their deaths are rarely final. They are transformed into elements of nature or their deaths provide for renewal of society and of the natural world» (p. 118). I said initially that this book was useful. I mean by this that I found that Mr. Blue's analyses, read in conjunction with the text of the plays, do enrich our understanding of them. I find that the number of plays analyzed is excessive; a closer attention to a smaller number of plays would have been, it seems to me, more useful. The scholarship , as a whole, is excellent and the most relevant material is incorporated into the text. Ocassionally, however, there are some startling omissions (the fundamental article of Don N. Cruickshank, «Pongo mi mano en sangre bañada en la puerta': Adultery in Ei médico de su honra,» Studies in Spanish Literature of the Golden Age Presented to E.M. Wilson, ed. R.O. Jones (London, 1973), pp. 45-62, is ignored in the analysis of this play). The brief index is somewhat erratic. These minor faults, however, should not distract us from the very real merits of this study. Javier Herrero University of Virginia FRIEDMAN, EDWARD H. The Unifying Concept: Approaches to the Structure of Cervantes' «Comedias». York, S.C: Spanish Literature Publications Co., 1981. Hardbound. $18.00. In his article on Cervantes' comedias for the Suma cervantina (London, 1973), Bruce W. Wardropper called for new, sympathetic critical appreciations of Cervantes' plays to complement Joaquin ...

A History of the Churches in the United States and Canada.

The religious histories of both the USA and Canada contain many dramatic themes, such as the Great Awakenings, the triumph of religious freedom, the clashes between Catholics and Protestants, the tensions of racial and ethnic differences, the forming of church unions, and the contentions between Christians who seek to express their faith in the thought patterns of their time and those who cling to traditional formulations. The way the churches faced the movement of peoples into and across a vast continent tells much about their present size and characteristics in both Canada and the United States.

The Honor Plays of Lope de Vega by Donald R. Larson

Reviews 365 relevant in performed drama, that the visual dimension is prominent wholly at the expense of the aural. As I noted in my own theoretical essay on the subject (“Visual and Aural Signs in the Performed English Renaissance Play,” RenD, N.S. 5 [1972], 143-69), the complex episte­ mology of a performed play involves every mode of theatrical sign and symbol: language, vocal tone, gesture, stage movement, make-up, cos­ tumes, hand props, decor/scenic devices, lighting, music, and sound effects. Dessen limits his examples to movement (his largest category, which includes symbolic entrances and exits, and stage positionings), gestures, costumes, and hand props; a chair in Thomas Lupton’s All for Money is the one scenic device discussed. Experiencing drama must call upon the auditor’s ear as well as the viewer’s eye. For another matter, the large number of examples used to prove rather obvious critical points (the linking analogue, say) does tire after a while, provoking the reader to suspect the author of having lengthened two or three longish essays to fill out a book. A case in point is the last and, to my mind, the least successful chapter, “The Stage Psychomachia .” Here is example-packed historicism with a vengeance—nothing less than a catalogue of the psychomachic device in fourteen Tudor and Stuart plays (six by Shakespeare), in five other plays where its use is problematic, and in two more for the sake of negative examples. This chapter may be unfavorably compared with one in Dessen’s first book, in which psychomachia and the morality play tradition were germane to a full reading of The Alchemist; but, lacking such critical development in the present book, the multiple examples make for pale reading. An exception to that type of writing is a little gem of an analysis (pp. 8891 ) of the anonymous Woodstock in terms of the gestural and imagistic idea of whispering. This is the first attempt ever at a close reading of that play, and it reminds us that Dessen can be a most effective inter­ preter. His explications of Jonson’s plays in his first book, for instance (even though the too-moralistic stance toward Bartholomew Fair con­ vinces few), remain among the leading analyses of those works. Similarly, the merits of the Viewer’s Eye far outweigh its demerits, for the book solidly enhances our awareness of the visual element in Elizabethan drama. BROWNELL SALOMON Bowling Green State University Donald R. Larson. The Honor Plays of Lope de Vega. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1977. Pp. 228. $14.00. Hispanic scholarship has produced a number of excellent studies on the role of honor in seventeenth-century Spanish society and, more particularly, in Lope de Vega’s enormous dramatic corpus. The mono­ graphs of Américo Castro, W. L. Fichter, R. Menéndez Pidal, A. García Valdecasas, and A. A. van Beysterveldt are especially rewarding. Lar­ son’s book treats the same subject, yet escapes repetition by approaching the topic as a dramatic theme in nine works, specifically: El castigo 366 Comparative Drama del discreto, La bella malmaridada, Las ferias de Madrid, Los comend­ adores de Córdoba, Peribáñez, Fuenteovejuna, La victoria de la honra, Porfiar hasta morir, and El castigo sin venganza. The first three are from Lope’s early period of creativity before 1600. Comendadores, Peribáñez, and Fuenteovejuna are from a middle period (1600-1620); and the last three plays come after 1620. A brief introduction concerning honor as a dramatic theme precedes the analyses of the plays. Therein Larson determines honor to be “not fame or glory, but simply the esteem and respect of one’s peers. . . . Honor is something external to the individual” (p. 5). The dramas utilize this externality of the esteem by always directing the threat to the in­ tegrity of a female member of the protagonist’s family rather than to the reputation of the protagonist himself. The typical honor play thus evolves around three main characters: (1) an intruder who lusts for (2) the wife (who may or may not remain faithful) of (3) a jealous husband whose actions are dictated by what he supposes others will think of him...

'Le Bonheur' as a Dramatic Theme and Paradox in Twentieth-century French Theatre

'Le Bonheur' as a Dramatic Theme and Paradox in Twentieth-century French Theatre

Varieties of Dramatic Experience: Discussions on Dramatic Form and Themes between Stanley Everndon, Roger Hubank, Thora Burnley Jones and Bernard De Bear Nicol

Varieties of Dramatic Experience: Discussions on Dramatic Form and Themes between Stanley Everndon, Roger Hubank, Thora Burnley Jones and Bernard De Bear Nicol

Schiller's Mortimer and the Gods of Italy

LITTLE has been said about Mortimer, in Schiller's Maria Stuart, save to define him either as representative of the Stuart cause, or as the lively proof of Maria's abiding erotic attractions. I But against this first definition it can be said that Mortimer does not, after all, conform to a 'type', for it can hardly be typical of an adherent of Mary's cause that he should have been converted to Catholicism by the impact of Italian art or that he should aspire to be the Queen's lover: these traits seem individual rather than typical. Of the second definition it must be said that the peculiar nature of Mortimer's passion for Maria must cast a dubious light on those attractions which it is claimed he demonstrates, and that such implications demand, at least, careful examination.2 A more serious objection is that neither definition accords to this character of Schiller's own invention any place in the new thematic purpose behind his extensive remodelling of historical fact. I will attempt here to elucidate Mortimer's place in Schiller's unfolding of his dramatic theme in Maria Stuart. Mortimer's mechanical function, acknowledgedly, is to set in motion the plot to free Maria from her English captivity, and in this role to form a physical link between the antagonists, between Fotheringhay and Westminster, between Maria and Elisabeth. His dramatic function-and this is less well acknowledged-is to point to the problematic situation of each Queen, each required by