Friday, November 2, 2007

Scattered Reflections on Shakespeare's Richard The Second

The whole play is suffused with two streams of imagery: religious and legal.

As a play it is unified much rather by these threads of diction, and the themes which it treats, than by its plot or even characters. For one cannot name any single action as the defining arc of the play: the rivalry of Bolingbroke and Mowbray but leads to the civil war and deposition of Richard, but this is accomplished midway through; what follows in the fourth and fifth acts is not necessary to this action, and only the fourth may argued for its denouement, while the fifth is concerned with a wholly new action. We may justly call the play plotless for this lack of a single plot. But perhaps this is proper to history, as distinct from tragedy, that the events rather sprawl, while the motions beneath them are made the form of the drama.

Similarly York, although he is a secondary agent in the action of the play, is as full of its problems of right, law, and loyalty as are Richard and Bolingbroke.

Why are we shown Richard's death? His last speech is a fine one, and his death surprises us by making plain the violence that has rumbled in the background of the whole play. Yet it can hardly be claimed merely for a set-piece. Again it may be necessary to the less exacting form of history, that a history of King Richard the Second ought to include his death. Yet even loose history sets its limits, as the revolt of Harry Percy, loyal ally here of Bolingbroke, is the subject of another play, though it would provide a fine or finer thematic balance as the much briefer conspiracy of Aumerle does--yet the revolt is alluded to, when Richard says to Northumberland (surely some of the best and most revealing lines in the play),
"Thou shalt think,
Though he divide the realm and give thee half,
It is too little, helping him to all;
And he shall think that thou, which know'st the way
To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,
Being ne'er so little urged, another way
To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne." (5.1.59-65)
If the death of Richard cannot merely be a scene necessary by convention, how else does it belong in the play? Is it a strange mix of many of the play's themes, come together suddenly at the last, after even the epilogue of the conspiracy against Bolingbroke, so that Shakespeare effects a sort of double coda (Richard's death and then Bolingbroke's response to it) after the denouement of Aumerle's plot? Much is compressed into the murder of Richard: the flattery of kings, which Exton thinks he acts in, the nobility of Richard in merely being a king, the groom's impotent loyalty to his sometime sovereign, the sanctity of kingship, strangely reinforced by the way Exton's motives make allusion to the murderers of Thomas Beckett:
"Didst thou not mark the king, what words he spake,
'Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?'
Was it not so?" (5.4.1-3).
All of these are brought in with the new metaphor for the state which Richard has conceived, and which accounts for its unity in his single body and its fracturedness in the ephemerality of his thoughts.
Yet even this I think is insufficient wholly to satisfy the question.

The three women of the play are all characters most worthy of pity; I think Richard's Queen has many great lines. Yet the wives of Gloucester and York are also moving in their pleas for familial loyalty.

The wider grounds for Bolingbroke's usurpation, that is, Richard's mismanagement and over-taxation of the kingdom, which Northumberland, Ross, and Willoughby express, are never brought to the fore by Bolingbroke, but he rather makes his outward cause personal, and hides the patriotic cause beneath it; he never portrays his seizure of the crown as other than vengeance for a personal affront. Indeed it is intrinsic to monarchic or aristocratic government that the state is comprised in a few people; as in the play we are closely privy to the motives of these people, Shakespeare can show us how it is not that reasons of personal enmity mask realities of wealth and power, but rather that those broader issues are impressed into serving the desires of powerful men.

As he is accustomed, Shakespeare's gives us a great balance of characters to view, as there are many sets of sons and fathers we may compare.

The play certainly possesses a greater singleness of action than many of Shakespeare's plays. Yet is it better to say, if this play is indeed still unified rather by the complete balance of its parts within themselves, as the continual threads of imagery, the many-times repeated relations between characters, the similar situations, that the drama ought not to be considered as a thing in motion, as we must see the headlong thrusts Sophocles and his countrymen, but rather as a static presentation? Has the Bard been here more a painter than a musician?

Some few lines that struck me:
Richard: Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes
I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect
Hath from the number of his banish'd years
Pluck'd four away. (1.3.208-211)

York: Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity--
So it be new, there's no respect how vile--
That is not quickly buzzed into his ears? (2.1.24-26)

Queen: ...yet again, methinks,
Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb,
Is coming towards me, and my inward soul
With nothing trembles... (2.2.9-12)

Richard: Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see... (4.1.244)

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