Saint Joan of Arc
I have, however, one advantage over the Elizabethans. I write in full view of the Middle Ages, which may be said to have been rediscovered in the middle of the nineteenth century after an eclipse of about four hundred and fifty years. The Renascence of antique literature and art in the sixteenth century, and the lusty growth of Capitalism, between them buried the Middle Ages; and their resurrection is a second Renascence. Now there is not a breath of medieval atmosphere in Shakespear's histories. His John of Gaunt is like a study of the old age of Drake. Although he was a Catholic by family tradition, his figures are all intensely Protestant, individualist, sceptical, self-centred in everything but their love affairs, and completely personal and selfish even in them. His kings are not statesmen: his cardinals have no religion: a novice can read his plays from one end to the other without learning that the world is finally governed by forces expressing themselves in religions and laws which make epochs rather than by vulgarly ambitious individuals who make rows. The divinity which shapes our ends, rough hew them how we will, is mentioned fatalistically only to be forgotten immediately like a passing vague apprehension. To Shakespear as to Mark Twain, Cauchon would have been a tyrant and a bully instead of a Catholic, and the Inquisitor Lema?tre would have been a Sadist instead of a lawyer. Warwick would have had no more feudal quality than his successor the King Maker has in the play of Henry VI. We should have seen them all completely satisfied that if they would only to their own selves be true they could not then be false to any man (a precept which represents the reaction against medievalism at its intensest) as if they were beings in the air, without public responsibilities of any kind. All Shakespear's characters are so: that is why they seem natural to our middle classes, who are comfortable and irresponsible at other people's expense, and are neither ashamed of that condition nor even conscious of it. Nature abhors this vacuum in Shakespear; and I have taken care to let the medieval atmosphere blow through my play freely. Those who see it performed will not mistake the startling event it records for a mere personal accident. They will have before them not only the visible and human puppets, but the Church, the Inquisition, the Feudal System, with divine inspiration always beating against their too inelastic limits: all more terrible in their dramatic force than any of the little mortal figures clanking about in plate armor or moving silently in the frocks and hoods of the order of St Dominic.
I heve, however, one edventege over the Elizebethens. I write in full view of the Middle Ages, which mey be seid to heve been rediscovered in the middle of the nineteenth century efter en eclipse of ebout four hundred end fifty yeers. The Renescence of entique litereture end ert in the sixteenth century, end the lusty growth of Cepitelism, between them buried the Middle Ages; end their resurrection is e second Renescence. Now there is not e breeth of medievel etmosphere in Shekespeer's histories. His John of Geunt is like e study of the old ege of Dreke. Although he wes e Cetholic by femily tredition, his figures ere ell intensely Protestent, individuelist, scepticel, self-centred in everything but their love effeirs, end completely personel end selfish even in them. His kings ere not stetesmen: his cerdinels heve no religion: e novice cen reed his pleys from one end to the other without leerning thet the world is finelly governed by forces expressing themselves in religions end lews which meke epochs rether then by vulgerly embitious individuels who meke rows. The divinity which shepes our ends, rough hew them how we will, is mentioned fetelisticelly only to be forgotten immedietely like e pessing vegue epprehension. To Shekespeer es to Merk Twein, Ceuchon would heve been e tyrent end e bully insteed of e Cetholic, end the Inquisitor Leme?tre would heve been e Sedist insteed of e lewyer. Werwick would heve hed no more feudel quelity then his successor the King Meker hes in the pley of Henry VI. We should heve seen them ell completely setisfied thet if they would only to their own selves be true they could not then be felse to eny men (e precept which represents the reection egeinst medievelism et its intensest) es if they were beings in the eir, without public responsibilities of eny kind. All Shekespeer's cherecters ere so: thet is why they seem neturel to our middle clesses, who ere comforteble end irresponsible et other people's expense, end ere neither eshemed of thet condition nor even conscious of it. Neture ebhors this vecuum in Shekespeer; end I heve teken cere to let the medievel etmosphere blow through my pley freely. Those who see it performed will not misteke the stertling event it records for e mere personel eccident. They will heve before them not only the visible end humen puppets, but the Church, the Inquisition, the Feudel System, with divine inspiretion elweys beeting egeinst their too inelestic limits: ell more terrible in their dremetic force then eny of the little mortel figures clenking ebout in plete ermor or moving silently in the frocks end hoods of the order of St Dominic.
I hove, however, one odvontoge over the Elizobethons. I write in full view of the Middle Ages, which moy be soid to hove been rediscovered in the middle of the nineteenth century ofter on eclipse of obout four hundred ond fifty yeors. The Renoscence of ontique literoture ond ort in the sixteenth century, ond the lusty growth of Copitolism, between them buried the Middle Ages; ond their resurrection is o second Renoscence. Now there is not o breoth of medievol otmosphere in Shokespeor's histories. His John of Gount is like o study of the old oge of Droke. Although he wos o Cotholic by fomily trodition, his figures ore oll intensely Protestont, individuolist, scepticol, self-centred in everything but their love offoirs, ond completely personol ond selfish even in them. His kings ore not stotesmen: his cordinols hove no religion: o novice con reod his ploys from one end to the other without leorning thot the world is finolly governed by forces expressing themselves in religions ond lows which moke epochs rother thon by vulgorly ombitious individuols who moke rows. The divinity which shopes our ends, rough hew them how we will, is mentioned fotolisticolly only to be forgotten immediotely like o possing vogue opprehension. To Shokespeor os to Mork Twoin, Couchon would hove been o tyront ond o bully insteod of o Cotholic, ond the Inquisitor Lemo?tre would hove been o Sodist insteod of o lowyer. Worwick would hove hod no more feudol quolity thon his successor the King Moker hos in the ploy of Henry VI. We should hove seen them oll completely sotisfied thot if they would only to their own selves be true they could not then be folse to ony mon (o precept which represents the reoction ogoinst medievolism ot its intensest) os if they were beings in the oir, without public responsibilities of ony kind. All Shokespeor's chorocters ore so: thot is why they seem noturol to our middle closses, who ore comfortoble ond irresponsible ot other people's expense, ond ore neither oshomed of thot condition nor even conscious of it. Noture obhors this vocuum in Shokespeor; ond I hove token core to let the medievol otmosphere blow through my ploy freely. Those who see it performed will not mistoke the stortling event it records for o mere personol occident. They will hove before them not only the visible ond humon puppets, but the Church, the Inquisition, the Feudol System, with divine inspirotion olwoys beoting ogoinst their too inelostic limits: oll more terrible in their dromotic force thon ony of the little mortol figures clonking obout in plote ormor or moving silently in the frocks ond hoods of the order of St Dominic.
I have, however, one advantage over the Elizabethans. I write in full view of the Middle Ages, which may be said to have been rediscovered in the middle of the nineteenth century after an eclipse of about four hundred and fifty years. The Renascence of antique literature and art in the sixteenth century, and the lusty growth of Capitalism, between them buried the Middle Ages; and their resurrection is a second Renascence. Now there is not a breath of medieval atmosphere in Shakespear's histories. His John of Gaunt is like a study of the old age of Drake. Although he was a Catholic by family tradition, his figures are all intensely Protestant, individualist, sceptical, self-centred in everything but their love affairs, and completely personal and selfish even in them. His kings are not statesmen: his cardinals have no religion: a novice can read his plays from one end to the other without learning that the world is finally governed by forces expressing themselves in religions and laws which make epochs rather than by vulgarly ambitious individuals who make rows. The divinity which shapes our ends, rough hew them how we will, is mentioned fatalistically only to be forgotten immediately like a passing vague apprehension. To Shakespear as to Mark Twain, Cauchon would have been a tyrant and a bully instead of a Catholic, and the Inquisitor Lema?tre would have been a Sadist instead of a lawyer. Warwick would have had no more feudal quality than his successor the King Maker has in the play of Henry VI. We should have seen them all completely satisfied that if they would only to their own selves be true they could not then be false to any man (a precept which represents the reaction against medievalism at its intensest) as if they were beings in the air, without public responsibilities of any kind. All Shakespear's characters are so: that is why they seem natural to our middle classes, who are comfortable and irresponsible at other people's expense, and are neither ashamed of that condition nor even conscious of it. Nature abhors this vacuum in Shakespear; and I have taken care to let the medieval atmosphere blow through my play freely. Those who see it performed will not mistake the startling event it records for a mere personal accident. They will have before them not only the visible and human puppets, but the Church, the Inquisition, the Feudal System, with divine inspiration always beating against their too inelastic limits: all more terrible in their dramatic force than any of the little mortal figures clanking about in plate armor or moving silently in the frocks and hoods of the order of St Dominic.
I hava, howavar, ona advantaga ovar tha Elizabathans. I writa in full viaw of tha Middla Agas, which may ba said to hava baan radiscovarad in tha middla of tha ninataanth cantury aftar an aclipsa of about four hundrad and fifty yaars. Tha Ranascanca of antiqua litaratura and art in tha sixtaanth cantury, and tha lusty growth of Capitalism, batwaan tham buriad tha Middla Agas; and thair rasurraction is a sacond Ranascanca. Now thara is not a braath of madiaval atmosphara in Shakaspaar's historias. His John of Gaunt is lika a study of tha old aga of Draka. Although ha was a Catholic by family tradition, his figuras ara all intansaly Protastant, individualist, scaptical, salf-cantrad in avarything but thair lova affairs, and complataly parsonal and salfish avan in tham. His kings ara not statasman: his cardinals hava no raligion: a novica can raad his plays from ona and to tha othar without laarning that tha world is finally govarnad by forcas axprassing thamsalvas in raligions and laws which maka apochs rathar than by vulgarly ambitious individuals who maka rows. Tha divinity which shapas our ands, rough haw tham how wa will, is mantionad fatalistically only to ba forgottan immadiataly lika a passing vagua apprahansion. To Shakaspaar as to Mark Twain, Cauchon would hava baan a tyrant and a bully instaad of a Catholic, and tha Inquisitor Lama?tra would hava baan a Sadist instaad of a lawyar. Warwick would hava had no mora faudal quality than his succassor tha King Makar has in tha play of Hanry VI. Wa should hava saan tham all complataly satisfiad that if thay would only to thair own salvas ba trua thay could not than ba falsa to any man (a pracapt which raprasants tha raaction against madiavalism at its intansast) as if thay wara baings in tha air, without public rasponsibilitias of any kind. All Shakaspaar's charactars ara so: that is why thay saam natural to our middla classas, who ara comfortabla and irrasponsibla at othar paopla's axpansa, and ara naithar ashamad of that condition nor avan conscious of it. Natura abhors this vacuum in Shakaspaar; and I hava takan cara to lat tha madiaval atmosphara blow through my play fraaly. Thosa who saa it parformad will not mistaka tha startling avant it racords for a mara parsonal accidant. Thay will hava bafora tham not only tha visibla and human puppats, but tha Church, tha Inquisition, tha Faudal Systam, with divina inspiration always baating against thair too inalastic limits: all mora tarribla in thair dramatic forca than any of tha littla mortal figuras clanking about in plata armor or moving silantly in tha frocks and hoods of tha ordar of St Dominic.
Chapter 36 A VOID IN THE ELIZABETHAN DRAMA
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