Shakespeare References in Determinism And Freedom In The Age Of Modern Science

This book, which was edited by Sidney Hook, features the thoughts of several philosophers and teachers on the subject of determinism. And it includes a couple of Shakespeare references. The first comes in the book’s first chapter, “The Case For Determinism,” written by Brand Blanshard. Blanshard writes, “‘The quarto and folio editions of mankind’ can follow the argument with fewer lapses than most of us; in the texts of the greatest of all dramas, we are told, there was seldom a blot or erasure; but Ben Jonson added, and no doubt rightly, that there ought to have been a thousand” (p. 28). Here Blanshard refers to Shakespeare’s works, and also to Ben Jonson’s famous line, regarding the idea that Shakespeare never blotted out a line: “Would he had blotted a thousand.” Then John Hospers in “What Means This Freedom?” refers to Hamlet. Hospers writes: “Premeditation, especially when it is so exaggerated as to issue in no action at all, can be the result of neurotic disturbance or what we sometimes call an emotional ‘block,’ which the person inherits from long-past situations. In Hamlet’s revenge on his uncle (I use this example because it is familiar to all of us), there was no lack, but rather a surfeit, of premeditation; his actions were so exquisitely premeditated as to make Freud and Dr. Ernest James look more closely to find out what lay behind them. The very premeditation camouflaged unconscious motives of which Hamlet himself was not aware. I think this is an important point, since it seems that the courts often assume that premeditation is a criterion of responsibility. If failure to kill his uncle had been considered a crime, every court in the land would have convicted Hamlet” (p. 128). Then, a bit later, Hospers writes: “The reasons may be rationalizations camouflaging unconscious motives of which the agent knows nothing. Hamlet gave many reasons for not doing what he felt it was his duty to do: the time was not right, his uncle’s soul might go to heaven, etc. His various ‘reasons’ contradicted one another, and if an overpowering compulsion had not been present, the highly intellectual Hamlet would not have been taken in for a moment by these rationalizations. The real reason, the Oedipal conflict that made his uncle’s crime the accomplishment of his own deepest desire, binding their fates into one and paralyzing him into inaction, was unconscious and of course unknown to him” (p. 129).

Determinism And Freedom In The Age Of Modern Science was published in 1958. The First Collier Books Edition was published in 1961.

King Lear (The Southern California Shakespeare Festival 2021 Online Production) Theatre Review

King Lear is arguably Shakespeare’s greatest play, presenting compelling characters, tackling important universal themes and confronting us with some of our deepest fears. When done well, King Lear never fails to move its audience, and the troupe making up The Southern California Shakespeare Festival does it well. For its seventeenth season, The Southern California Shakespeare Festival presents King Lear in an online production (because the pandemic is not yet a thing of the past). It is a modern dress production, which works to eliminate the distance that sometimes creeps in between an audience and a play when looking into the past. This is a Lear for right now, when families are fractured, deceit reigns, cruelty abounds, and we question our own reality and whether the gods even care.

During the opening conversation between Gloucester (Sam Robinson) and Kent (Samantha Kernaghan), we see Edmund (Christopher Martin), who looks up on Gloucester’s “This young fellow’s mother could,” indicating that he has heard their talk. We feel for Edmund in that moment, though he has something of a dark countenance from the beginning. As Lear (Matthew Reidy) enters to fanfare, he takes Cordelia (Renee Turner) by the hand and gives her a little kiss, showing from the start how she is favored among the three daughters. Cordelia is even given a central spot, positioned between Goneril (Linda Bisesti) and Regan (Kathleen S. Dunn), who of course can’t fail to notice that. As Lear speaks of Burgundy and France, the camera shows us Cordelia, and there is a sweet innocence about her. Lear applauds both Goneril and Regan after their speeches in which they profess their love for him. It is interesting, because of course these are performances worth applauding, performances insisted upon by Lear himself, and perhaps – at least for the moment – he is aware that these are simply performances. Cordelia’s asides during their speeches are cut.

Kent being female in this production gives a different feel to the line “Lov’d as my father,” since we’ve just heard from Lear’s actual daughters regarding their love for him. It puts Kent more in line with those daughters, which is a bit strange. Also, Cordelia is the woman who stands up to Lear in this moment, so Kent’s being female, in a way, makes it seem like she outdoes Cordelia. That being said, Samantha Kernaghan gives a strong performance, in this scene and throughout the production. When France (Brandon Sy) tells Cordelia, “Bid farewell to your sisters,” he kind of spits out the word “sisters” as if he has no respect for them. It is a somewhat odd choice, as he wasn’t present for their performances, their proclamations of love, and so his scorn seems to come from nowhere. Linda Bisesti and Kathleen S. Dunn deliver tremendous performances as Goneril and Regan respectively, and what’s more, they are completely believable as sisters, which is clear when they stand together as Cordelia addresses them. The moment with Goneril and Regan together after Cordelia has exited is excellent. The camera is close on them, almost like we in the audience are part of their small confederacy. What is particularly wonderful is that as the camera pulls back, we see that they’ve been holding hands. And as the scene ends, they let go of each other and take the arms of their husbands, showing that their allegiance to each other is something stronger, more natural, than that to their husbands. It is a brief moment that reveals a lot.

Edmund is rather creepy in his white gloves. He gives his “base” speech outward, but not directly to the camera. Gloucester’s lines regarding the letter are delivered in a rather jovial and playful mood, which is nice, giving him plenty of space to go once he reads it. At first he is incredulous. Oh, if only he remained so. On “brothers divide,” Gloucester gestures to Edmund. And on “the bond crack’d ‘twixt son and father,” he looks at Edmund as if perhaps deep down he knows the truth. Interestingly, after Gloucester exits, Edmund delivers his next speech directly to the camera, the “excellent foppery of the world” speech. At one moment, we see that his anger is about to get the best of him, and he has to work to control it, which is great. On “go arm’d,” Edmund hands Edgar (Richard H. Pluim) a knife. There are no swords in this production, and later Edmund uses a knife to wound his own arm.

When next we see Lear, he is dressed more casually, in a plaid shirt and a hat. Kent’s disguise is more extreme and believable than in many productions, for she disguises herself as a man. It works, though her answer to Lear, “A man, Sir,” has a different ring to it because of her gender. She carries a large walking stick, and uses it to trip Oswald (Cal Zwahlen). The Fool (Julian D. Carrasco) is in a suit, his coxcomb being a regular cap. There is nothing too outrageous about his appearance, except perhaps the polka dot tie he wears. But he gives a delightful performance, and the connection is strong between him and Lear. I love that in this scene Goneril seems to truly care about her father on the lines “and put away/These dispositions which of late transport you/From what you rightly are.” She seems disturbed by the man she sees in front of her, by his changes, as well as by the behavior of his men. After all, this is her father, the man she has likely looked up to all her life. Goneril is much more effective when not played as simply evil, as is sometimes done. It is when Lear curses her that she really begins to change, and we see that in her expression. After Lear sends Kent off with the letter, there is a great moment where Lear sits, looking weary and tired. The Fool sees this, and tries to cheer him. It is such a moving moment, especially coming after the previous scene in which Lear was losing his temper with Goneril. Matthew Reidy is fantastic here as Lear.

Rather than actual stocks, in this production a gunnysack is placed over Kent’s head, and her legs are tied. The sound of barking dogs is heard as Edgar is being pursued. While hiding, he delivers his “happy hollow” speech to the camera. Meanwhile, behind him the search continues, and it gets closer, until he is caught, something I don’t recall seeing in any other production. And it is in that moment that he calls out “Poor Tom!” And his captor moves on. It’s a fantastic and exciting moment. He then delivers his “Edgar I nothing am” line. Later, when Gloucester speaks with Edmund, the camera is placed behind various objects, enhancing the covert aspect of Gloucester’s speech.

As with Goneril, this production allows Regan moments where she truly seems to care for her father. Regan helps Lear up when she says “I am glad to see your Highness,” leading Lear to say “Regan, I think you are.” It’s heartbreaking, in part because we know what is to come, and in part because in that moment we see that what is to come is not necessary, that it could be avoided. The “take her by the hand” moment is even stronger because we saw Goneril and Regan take each other by the hand in the first scene. So this shows they are still of that mind. The scene where they discuss the numbers of Lear’s train is powerful and moving, with Lear, Goneril and Regan all giving excellent performances. Lear’s tirade leaves Regan in tears, a wonderful touch.

For the storm, a rain effect is employed. The trial of Goneril is cut. When Lear mentions dogs, Edgar barks, leading to Lear’s “they bark at me.” There is an ice pick on the floor, which Lear picks up, and, without knowing it, accidentally stabs the Fool, an interesting way to dispose of a character who disappears from the text after that scene. After “And I’ll go to bed at noon,” the Fool collapses on the ground and dies. The eye plucking scene manages to be shocking, in part because of the performances by Craig Damon as Cornwall and Kathleen S. Dunn as Regan, especially the twisted joy Regan takes in it. What is also wonderful here is that Regan and Cornwall are given a moment of intimacy before this scene, which almost feels like foreplay. There is something nearly sexual passing between those two in their moment of extreme violence, and with Regan, we get the sense that she is just now learning this about herself, and that from here on out, that will be a significant part of her character. It is riveting. She also takes such delight in revealing to Gloucester that Edmund is the one who betrayed him. She is wonderfully wicked here, and yet does care for her husband when she learns that he’s been wounded. Goneril flirts with Edmund in a fashion similar to how she earlier interacted with Oswald. And in fact her “wear this” refers to a ring she suddenly takes from Oswald and places on Edmund’s finger (over his white gloves), an excellent touch.

Richard H. Pluim shines as Edgar when he sees that his father is blind and lets go of his Poor Tom posture. It is incredibly touching when he takes Gloucester’s hand. Edgar leads him to a spot from which there is a drop of a few inches, so that when Gloucester tentatively reaches out with his foot, he finds only air and so believes he is at the cliff. How heartrending it is to pretend to lead one’s own father to his suicide. We feel for both Edgar and Gloucester here. But of course the most moving moments involve Lear’s reunion with Cordelia. Lear is dressed in a hospital gown, asleep in a wheel chair, when Cordelia sees him. His delivery of “You are a spirit, I know” is poignant. Because Kent is female in this production, Lear’s “and know this man” about Kent has a different sense than usual. For it shows that he doesn’t quite recognize her, at least not as Kent, though perhaps as the servant Kent has pretended to be. It feels like we lose something there, the possibility that he is coming back to his senses. However, Lear’s recognition of Cordelia is incredibly touching. Music is added to that moment, but it is not necessary; the performances do all the work here.

When Regan takes ill, Goneril says “If not, I ne’er trust the poison,” following the Quarto reading rather than the Folio’s “medicine,” which is usually used. Edgar wears a cap down to cover some of his face when he fights Edmund. Of course, having a portion of one’s face covered would make a duel all the more difficult. He then removes the cap before “My name is Edgar.” Albany’s “Great thing of us forgot!” is cut. Lear has Cordelia in a bed sheet, and pulls her in by the sheet rather than carrying her. On Lear’s “Do you see this,” a light shines on his face, and he looks up, nearly in ecstasy, seeing Cordelia before him. Perhaps she is an angel coming to lead him into an afterlife? Perhaps she is only in his mind, but the presence of the light seems to indicate that he really does see something. Kent and Edgar gently help him lie back as he continues to see Cordelia before him and passes in a state of joy. It is beautiful. Following the Folio, Edgar speaks the final words of the play rather than Albany, as in the Quarto. This is an absolutely captivating production of Shakespeare’s finest work.

This production of King Lear was directed by Baron Kelly, and is available to watch online through September 12th. It is free, but donations are encouraged. Visit The Southern California Shakespeare Festival website for more details, and to watch the production.

The Tempest (Independent Shakespeare Company’s 2021 Production) Theatre Review

The Independent Shakespeare Company is back in Griffith Park after a year without any performances, this time with a shortened season. While the company usually puts on two plays, this season they are performing just one, The Tempest, which is thought to be Shakespeare’s final play (or perhaps penultimate play, followed by Henry The Eighth). There is another difference this season, and that is the location, which is just a bit farther up the hill than usual, a more intimate space. This is because ground is being broken at the normal spot for a permanent theatre, which is excellent news for those of us who have been enjoying this company’s work. Also, because of the continuing pandemic, specific spots were mapped out for the audience this season, and reservations required, in order to ensure some distance between patrons. What has not changed is the high quality of this company’s work, nor that great sense of community that exists at their performances.

As the performance opens, there is the sound effect of a storm, and the entire stage becomes the boat. Prospero (David Melville) stands downstage center, and opens an umbrella, which signals the start of the storm, a wonderful touch. He then exits before the dialogue among the mariners. All the characters on stage shout “We split, we split,” and then it is if they have gone into the water, which we can see by their well-choreographed movements. By the way, this season the stage itself is split into three sections. There is a center section close to the audience, positioned over some rocks and a riverbed (though no water is running in it now), and behind it a section to the left and one to the right. Interestingly, those two sections give the feel of being backstage, as it seems the back of the flats are facing the audience. While the tempest has its way with those on the boat, Miranda (Carene Mekertichyan) watches through binoculars upstage right. This is a modern dress production. Prospero’s magic garment is nothing special to look at, and so when he first mentions his “magic garment,” the line gets a laugh. It also draws a greater distinction between him and the spirits of the island, showing that he is still an outsider to this place.

In the text, apart from the spirits in the pageant, Miranda is the only female character. In this production, Prospero’s brother Antonio becomes his sister Antonia (Carine Montbertrand), and the king’s brother Sebastian becomes his sister Sebastiane (also played by Carene Mekertichyan). It is interesting that the two murderous characters are women here. Also, a woman plays the character Adrian (that is Darian Ramirez). Having so many women of course gives Miranda fewer men to look upon before she delivers her famous “How many goodly creatures are there here” speech, which perhaps lessens the humor of it. We do have a male Ariel, however, which is a welcome change from most productions (the character is male in the text). Played by Paul Turbiak, Ariel has distinctive appearance, with a strip of blue across his eyes, and black feathers at his neck and shoulders. His voice, facial expressions and movements also set him apart from the other characters. The entire cast is excellent (which is the norm for this company), but Paul Turbiak gives a particularly remarkable performance. After Prospero tells him that his charge “exactly is perform’d,” Ariel starts to leave upstage. Then, as Prospero continues his speech, “but there’s more work,” Ariel’s expression and disposition change, as he is more concerned that Prospero will not free him as promised. Ariel makes us feel for him immediately, and he shows submission rather than anger in that early scene.

Also delivering a fantastic performance is Jose Acain as Caliban, who frightens Miranda upon his initial entrance (and might frighten some of the audience as well). There is a delightful wildness about him, and we see a constant inner struggle between what might be his natural inclinations and the deportment Prospero has taught him and expects of him. Like Ariel, Caliban has his own particular way of moving. He also has green makeup surrounding one eye, which helps to set him apart. Caliban gives a wicked and pleased laugh after Prospero mentions his attempted violation of Miranda. Before that moment, the audience can’t help but care for him. And even after that, it’s not long before we feel for him again.

Ariel, with the help of two other spirits, leads Ferdinand (Patrick Batiste) with a song. Ferdinand seems truly tormented by this song, particularly when it reminds him of his father, whom he presumes dead. It’s an excellent moment. Ferdinand is in modern clothes, but does have a sword. Xavi Moreno does a wonderful job as both Gonzalo and Trinculo, shining particularly as Trinculo, the performance having a delightful innocence. There is a lot of doubling of roles in this production, and Brent Charles plays both Alonso (the king) and Stephano. As with Moreno, Charles seems to have much more fun with the more comedic role, and the song he sings upon entering as Stephano received some applause from the crowd last night. It is not an easy thing to play drunk, and both Charles and Moreno do a good job of it. When Ariel helps Trinculo to stand, Trinculo of course shows some surprise, which is another nice moment. Ariel, by the way, does a great job of imitating Trinculo’s voice. Caliban uses his song about having a new master to engage Stephano and Trinculo, as well as the audience. And then later when the music frightens Trinculo and Stephano, Caliban smiles, taking great joy in the hearing of it. Regardless of how his attempted violation of Miranda may have made the audience feel, in this moment everyone has at least some fondness for the character.

The budding romance between Ferdinand and Miranda is absolutely adorable. When Miranda tells Ferdinand that her father is “hard at study,” we see Prospero standing in the near darkness off stage left. Miranda pouts a bit when Ferdinand mentions other women he has known, which is cute. When the others are searching for Ferdinand, Antonia and Sebastiane call out his name with an obvious lack of interest in finding him, which is funny. For the pageant scene, Prospero hits his stick against the floor, causing lights in the trees to illuminate. He also uses a soap bubble machine, which gets a laugh from the audience. David Melville always handles comedy well, but his greatest moments as Prospero are the more serious and even introspective moments. He does an excellent job with the famous speech after the pageant, in which he tells Miranda and Ferdinand “we are such stuff/As dreams are made on, and our little life/Is rounded with a sleep.” And the later interactions with Ariel are perhaps the best moments in the entire production. Particularly moving is when Ariel tells him, “Mine would, sir, were I human.” Ariel is completely honest here, without that sense of manipulation, and that honesty is what works on Prospero, and it is then we get the first real sense of forgiveness. After Ariel exits, Prospero remains quiet for a moment, gathering himself, which is excellent. There is some sorrow in his delivery of “I’ll drown my book.”

As always, this company makes great use of the space. And having a different space this year seems to have lent itself to fueling their creativity and inventiveness. The dry riverbed is used often, with Prospero first going to it to fill a kettle. And Caliban makes a fantastic and dramatic entrance from underground. What the actors don’t do as much as usual is make entrances and exits through the audience. In previous seasons, actors would even sit with audience members on their blankets, delivering some of their lines from there. But obviously because of the pandemic, that is something that wouldn’t be as welcome. In fact, I believe there is only one exit through the audience, which draws all the more attention to it. That is by Ariel after he is finally freed, making that moment even more powerful and moving.

This production of The Tempest was directed by Melissa Chalsma, and runs through September 5th (only four more performances). There is a twenty-minute intermission, coming at the end of Act II. (Be sure to have a flashlight with you if you plan on visiting the bathrooms during intermission.) Visit the Independent Shakespeare Company’s official website for more information.

Caliban makes his entrance from here