Tuesday, June 6, 2023

Romeo & Juliet & Larry & Paolo & Francesca & Gianciotto


I came across two terms the other day that were very interesting to the discussion of Romeo & Juliet.


Free indirect speech 
style of third-person narration which uses some of the characteristics of third-person along with the essence of first-person direct speech; it is also referred to as free indirect discoursefree indirect style, or, in Frenchdiscours indirect libre.

This one I heard about in a podcast on Jane Austen (for dudes) which can be found here:

This one my daughter clued me into as a term used throughout the internet by the youngsters:
The process by which a single trait from a character is overstated and brandished to the point that it becomes the character's only trait. Flanderization is almost always for the worst and tends to draw viewers away from the the medium that the character represents.

Thinking of our discussion the other night I thought, "Is it possible that Shakespeare himself was exercising an early form of free indirect speech?"  He doesn't have a narrator (obviously) but he has a chorus - one which frames our thinking about the play twice.  The chorus tells us that the two households are "alike in dignity" (leading us to believe that they are dignified and not a bunch of thugs and hotheads); chorus tells us that there is an uncleanness due to an "ancient grudge" (very classical tragedy-like); chorus introduces the oxymoron "fatal loins"; and chorus suggests that the love btwn the two youths is "star-crossed" - meaning fated for death from the beginning - but also suggesting that it ain't their fault!  It has nothing to do with their character or their choices.  Just la merda succede, I guess.  Chorus also suggests that the "death-mark'd love" and the "children's end" heal the division btwn the two houses and removes their parents "continuance (of) rage".


But does it?  If the setting is medieval Italy so beset with civil strife that Dante called it 

Ah slavish Italy! thou inn of grief,
Vessel without a pilot in loud storm,
Lady no longer of fair provinces,
But brothel-house impure!
- Purg VI

and Machiavelli wrote that Italy was

... without head, without order, beaten, despoiled, torn, overrun; and to have endured every kind of desolation... left as without life, waits for him who shall yet heal her wounds and put an end to the ravaging and plundering of Lombardy, to the swindling and taxing of the kingdom and of Tuscany, and cleanse those sores that for long have festered. 
- Prince XXVI

And if the character of the two heads of families proved itself to be incapable of change, would they have ceased from their constant disputes and rivalries?  The historical fact of the matter is that most of the disputes in wartorn medieval Italy were ancient clan strifes that lined up behind the two factions of the Guelphs and Ghibellines.  

The year 1198 saw the beginning of two such political parties–the Guelphs and Ghibellines. (The Montecchis were Ghibellines; the Capuletis were Guelphs.)

Perhaps the Capulets and Montagues are no different possessing an "ancient strife" that now finds its form in support of the Pope vs. the HRE (Holy Roman Emperor); the spiritual power vs. the secular; realists vs. nominalists.  IDK - but it seems unlikely such strife will cease b/c of two bratty kids offing themselves.



For Florence and her allies, the Battle of Montaperti turned into a disaster. The Guelphs began to flee, and the Ghibellines, made crazy by their success, killed without restraint, including enemies who were ready to surrender. The Arbia Creek became red with Florentine blood. When night fell, 10,000 men lay dead in the field and 4,000 were missing.

But back to my theme.  The second time chorus shows up is in the prologue to act II (why not the other acts, I wonder?).  Here chorus leads us to believe that "old desire" (for strife et alia) is in its death-bed and that "young affection" (so sweet) longs to inherit the rule; love trumps hate, amirite?  But hold on!  Chorus tells us that the beauty which seemed so sweet before, causing groaning and "I would die for her" is now not being just to poor Sappio.  Sure, he loves again and has love requited (which is a nice way of saying he got the girl) but he is "bewitched by the charm of looks" and if she were to "steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks" he would have to complain to his foes.  Bummer.  Both of them are forced to remain secretive by the cultural strife btwn their families - as they should have accounted before they got hitched.  But it's okay b/c "passion lends them power, time means" to confront their harsh problems with real sweetness.  Flowers in gun muzzles and all that.  





It is this read which seems to have appealed to the Romantics who praised Romeo & Juliet and equally praised the characters of Paolo & Francesca when Dante's works re-emerged in the 19th century:


Perhaps a confirmation of this complexity of character (an anti-Flanderization, if you will) could be in the connection to Dante's characters, Paolo & Francesca:

Although no version of Francesca's story is known to exist before Dante, Giovanni Boccaccio--a generation or two after Dante--provides a "historical" account of the events behind Francesca's presentation that would not be out of place among the sensational novellas of his prose masterpiece, The Decameron. Even if there is more fiction than fact in Boccaccio's account, it certainly helps explain Dante-character's emotional response to Francesca's story by presenting her in a sympathetic light. Francesca, according to Boccaccio, was blatantly tricked into marrying Gianciotto, who was disfigured and uncouth, when the handsome and elegant Paolo was sent in his brother's place to settle the nuptial contract. Angered at finding herself wed the following day to Gianciotto, Francesca made no attempt to restrain her affections for Paolo and the two in fact soon became lovers. Informed of this liaison, Gianciotto one day caught them together in Francesca's bedroom (unaware that Paolo got stuck in his attempt to escape down a ladder, she let Gianciotto in the room); when Gianciotto lunged at Paolo with a sword, Francesca stepped between the two men and was killed instead, much to the dismay of her husband, who then promptly finished off Paolo as well.


I suggest, however, that humans are more complicated than the Romantics thought; our motives and passions and reasons for doing things are sometimes hidden even from ourselves; thinking we know what is best in the face of convention, learning, and religious teaching enmirks an already mirky situation.  And I think Shakespeare knew this and embodied it in his play.  What were Francesca's reasons for starting an affair with the good-looking cousin?  Anger at being tricked into marrying the hunchback?  Spite against her family (and his) for the trick?  An attempt to seize control of her situation in the only way she knew how?  This seems eerily similar to possible motives of Juliet that supersede the Flanderized "true love" motive.

It is unclear whether Shakespeare read Dante (the Italian's works were not translated into English until the Romantic era) but he probably had some familiarity with them from other sources, the traffic btwn Italy and England being what it was:

...it seems likely that Shakespeare would have been surrounded by people who were versed in Italian literature and language, due to its popularity. And he'd have been talking to them to get the necessary details for the Italian settings of his plays. Dante's work was certainly known in 17th century England so it seems inconceivable that Shakespeare would not have heard about them, likely in detail, at least in second hand. The limited parallels drawn between Inferno and Much Ado About Nothing in the referenced question and answer require no more than limited knowledge of the Inferno.



It seems likely that the English Bard was reflecting on the same damning thing that got Francesca and Paolo into the second circle of hell; namely the mortal sin of lust.  The Saint Augustine Prayer Book has this interesting entry in the section on examination of conscience:
Lust is the misuse of sex for personal gratification, debasing it from the holy purpose for which God has given it to us.
Then in the various forms of lust are listed:
Unchastity (obviously)
Immodesty (obviously)
Prudery (not so much obviously but still, fairly obvious)
Cruelty.  Deliberate infliction of pain, mental or physical.  Tormenting of animals.  (say what?)
In this sense lust and violence are closely united; Venus and Mars are lovers.  The manifestation of unbridled lust may differ in the sexes or btwn individuals but it primarily stems from hubristic focus on one's own desire to dominate the world like a god:
 
Lust has as its focus gratifying oneself, and it often leads to toxic actions to fulfill one’s desires with no consideration to the consequences. Lust springs forth from selfishness and greed.

According to Baker's Biblical Dictionary, Lust is "a strong craving or desire, often of a sexual nature. Though used relatively infrequently (twenty-nine times) in Scripture, a common theme can be seen running through its occurrences. The word is never used in a positive context; rather, it is always seen in a negative light, relating primarily either to a strong desire for sexual immorality or idolatrous worship."

Shakespeare writes about this unbridled sin twice in his sonnets; 
where he calls lust in action an "​expense of spirit in a waste of shame​"​ and goes on to say that
​... till action, lust
Is perjured, ​​murd'rous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
Enjoyed no sooner but despisèd straight,
Past reason hunted; and, no sooner had
Past reason hated as a swallowed bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
Mad in pursuit and in possession so,
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
A bliss in proof and proved, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream...



and again in 
where he describes his lustful love as "a fever"
...longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,
At random from the truth vainly expressed:
    For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
    Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

Neither sonnet speaks to glowingly about this sin and it stands to reason that the Bard would embody this "murd'rous, bloody, full of blame, / Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust" disease which threatens to engulf the soul in something "as black as hell" and "as dark as night" in actual characters within a play.  

Dante himself had distinguished btwn the two seemingly identical movements of the soul praising one and condemning the other despite both being indicated by the same Italian word "amor":
    • working from ideas already present in his moral canzone Doglia mi reca, in Inferno 5 Dante insists that reason and love not only can coexist but must coexist: a passion that is antithetical to reason, that is not the product of a free will, cannot be called love
    • the word amore: in Inferno 2, “amore”, rightly construed, is aligned with reason, and leads to salvation: “amor mi mosse, che mi fa parlare” (Inf. 2.72). In Inferno 5, “amore”, wrongly construed, leads to death: “Amor condusse noi ad una morte” (Inf. 5.106). The latter passion is not love, according to Dante’s understanding of love. But it is the same word “amore” in both instances, so it is up to us to learn to construe and understand correctly. In his moral canzone Doglia mi reca, Dante had already indicated the need to apply an alert hermeneusis, explaining that some call by the word ‘‘love’’ what is in reality mere bestial appetite: “chiamando amore appetito di fera” (143).
    • https://digitaldante.columbia.edu/dante/divine-comedy/inferno/inferno-5/
Again, it seems likely to me that the English Bard would have at least heard rumor of Dante's thinking even if by alternate sources.  The characters of his play, therefore, seem highly tuned toward this sort of destructive "amor ad una morte" rather than the "l’amor che move il sole e l’altre stelle".  Even if Romeo's form of lust (womanish, mindless, wreckless, simpering behavior) differs from Juliet's (manlike, spiteful, cruel, bitter, manipulative, engulfing) both share in the extreme and violent end that drives them inevitably, tragically toward their own useless and pointless self-destruction.


There was, fascinatingly enough, a Romeo & Juliet (& Larry); or Paolo & Francesca ( & Gianciotto) trifecta much closer to Shakespeare's time which was so notorious in Europe that it seems unlikely he would NOT know of it.   This was the story of Carlos Gesualdo;
One fateful night in October 1590, Gesualdo discovered her in flagrante with the Duke of Andria, Don Fabrizio Carafa (he was wearing Maria’s silk nightgown at the time). Gesualdo immediately set about slaughtering the pair, slashing their limbs with his sword, mutilating their sexual organs, and puncturing their skulls with the bullets of his gun. He then allegedly murdered the baby boy who may or may not have been his or Don Fabrizio’s child by swinging him to death in his castle courtyard.

The murderous duke composed most glorious and beautiful music.  



But he was, nevertheless, a murderer of the worst degree.  What motives led him to slaughter his wife, her lover, and their little boy?  What motives led her to engage in the affair in the first place?  What motives led Don Fabrizio Carafa to wear women's night clothes?  What motives led Romeo to seek solace in the arms of a willing woman?  What motives drove Juliet to avoid and condemn her own family?  What drove her to deny her father and refuse her name?

Whatever the answers might be, Shakespeare isn't writing a sweet but tragic romance (as the Romantics of the 19th century would lead us to believe).  Instead he wrote a tragedy wherein the motives, though obscure, emerge from the character of the  individuals.  The experience of this tragedy might bring to us a little suffering, and that suffering might bring some momdicum of wisdom if we pay attention.  "Character is fate" quipped Heraclitus (ἦθος ἀνθρώπῳ δαίμων) and if we are to learn anything from the tragic fate of these "star-crossed lovers" possessed of an "amor ad una morte" it is that we too might fall into the same character deficiencies that lead to their tragic implosion.



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