R3 and J. K. Walton

The Shakespeare Conference: SHK 27.039  Thursday, 4 February 2016

 

From:        Gerald E. Downs <This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.>

Date:         February 3, 2016 at 6:22:31 PM EST

Subject:    R3 and J. K. Walton

 

I wrote most of this in 2015, when I began to appreciate the webs R3 assumptions weave. Only a long article can clear the air, which I ain’t up to. Some of the mysteries were man-made long ago; some are modern in origin. I hadn’t expected such length—but then, I never do. If you haven’t thought about any of this stuff, lucky you; unless some of it forms the basis of your opinion.

 

J. K. Walton thought Q1 King Lear was a memorial reconstruction, though he bucked the trend to allow a chance it was a shorthand report (as I believe). He denied any Q2 Lear involvement in F’s printing, opting instead for Q1 as F printer’s copy. The consensus now is that Q2 was heavily used; I agree with the few who think F copy was primarily a manuscript redacted from Q1 Lear. It’s surprising that the Lear and R3 cases are ultimately similar; yet while Walton assigns Q1 as F Lear copy, he allows no Q1 R3 influence on F R3, except through Q3. His rationale in leaving Q1 out of the Q3/Q6 debate seems to influence others (unless I missed their reasons for ignoring Q1 (and QMS) as possible direct influences on F production). All agree that printer’s copy for most of F was Q3, Q6, or both. It’s sort of a Matthew, Mark, or Luke New Testament derivation thing: comforting to the faithful to drop it at God or Shakespeare, but unhistorical.

 

Walton attempts to use the methods of classical textual scholarship (study of manuscript transmission) to determine which quarto in the series of reprints served as F copy. His first error is to reject the notion that more than one R3 edition could have been used (Q3, Q6, or both? Most scholars nowadays accept evidence for both). Further, Walton restricted the evidence to “definite errors” introduced in any quarto of the series that are repeated in F; too much useful evidence is eliminated by this method. For example, Smidt saw a correlation in the use of parentheses in Q1 and F: they may not be errors, they may not be ‘definitive,’ yet they got Smidt’s attention, and rightly so; coincidental readings of any kind are matters of probability and evidence. 

 

But another error seems fundamental. Walton remarks a “special feature” of playtexts like R3: for the purpose of determining which quarto served as F printer’s copy, the “archetype [‘the exemplar in the copying of which the first split in transmission originated’] is the same as the original” (65). That is, we can assume Shakespeare’s manuscript is immediately behind a Q1 because “the manuscripts used for printing his plays were either originals or transcripts not far removed from them.” It is wrong to think early theatrical transcripts are of no account; but his point is that if two copy-texts were practically the same, “we may be misled by the number of errors common to Q and F texts [to conclude] that F was printed from corrected quarto copy.” In other words, when Q1 and F are alike, F does not reprint Q1 if a later quarto is shown to influence F’s printing. That mistake stipulates a “common original source” for a container-ship load of Q1/F evidence if R3 is in this “special Shakespeare” category.

 

On one page, Walton observes that Q R3 “is seriously corrupt on account of having gone through a memorial stage” (80); on the next, he states that “reprints of bad quartos” are not relevant to his study (81). Why isn’t Q1 R3 a bad quarto? According to Walton, “goodness or badness of the text considered in terms of literary value is, after all, the basis for the whole concept of ‘good’ or ‘bad’ quartos . . . ” (16). No one doubts that textual inferiority led to defining bad quartos as necessarily resulting from memorial transmission. The cause of the inferiority is inferred: memorial “stages” create bad quartos. Walton fails to see the connection but his consequent rejection of Q1 evidence has been accepted, possibly because his discussion is out of joint; one must page back and forth (takes one to know one). However, editors assuming F R3’s authority are more apt to welcome than to question supportive argument; they dearly want a nearby original (or two?) in Shakespeare’s hand.

 

In each case, printer’s copy for a bad quarto (memorial report) is far removed from its originating texts: spelling, misreading, punctuation, actor-error (in many forms), lineation, made-up or missing s.d.’s and s.p.’s, additions, revisions, and copying and printing errors all contribute to differentiate the genealogy of the texts; if F is much like a bad quarto, the “original” is long gone. Walton recognizes that a classical “archetype will be free of errors arising after the [first split in the transmission of the surviving texts], but, with classical and medieval texts, it will rarely be the same as the original, and will therefore contain errors of its own arising from the process of transcription” (44). R3, if memory serves, represents a ‘new’ archetype very, very different from the original text. If one insists that F reproduces the authorized text and that it reprints a quarto, then Q1 must be allowed as an F-copy candidate.

 

The R3 Ms. that existed with all certainty, and which we should know a lot about, is Q1 printer’s copy; the memorial report (I say). If QMS survived to be recopied or revised, or if it served to annotate one or more quartos, it is an FMS to be reckoned with. Some textual problems can be addressed by corrective use of QMS as the simplest solution. However, its use would not preclude the existence of another FMS; the alternatives should be weighed.

 

It seems possible that FMS was a separately reported text. Since shorthand reporting is what shorthand reporters did, that’s not so unlikely an explanation for added F errors, its inability to correct or overrule Q, and printers’ preference for printed copy (why struggle with another problematic text?) Alternatives should be addressed in order; I’ve not got that far.

 

If Q1 is reported, the printers knew it and were free to correct, or not, as each saw fit; their object was a readable, popular, and economical book. Success was six editions by 1623, with little editorial attention. That changed when F (the dreaded one-legged A, in a different font) came along.

 

According to Arden3, “Folio [R3] is remarkable for changing a play that had been more or less constantly in print for twenty-six years” (442). It would be more remarkable if the exceedingly corrupt playtext had not been changed. Heminges and Condell presented F as ‘cured’ of stolen text maladies printed before; Q R3 was not acceptable “as is.” However, as with Lear and so many other texts, quartos are reprinted in new dress and often by different methods. In R3, F arbitrarily “fixes” meter and lineation; it tries hard to correct some text; but other changes seem more like whimsy than correction. An extreme number of substitutions have no rationale other than to be different (‘that’ becomes ‘which’). It’s wrong to take F readings as Shakespearian on no other ground than their appearance, or their better appearance, in F.

 

I’ve argued that F R3 derives from Q1 (from my own perspective, which included some casual reading); but I was unaware of Walton’s exchanges with one of my favorites, Andrew S. Cairncross (who gets little respect nowadays). In 1957, J. K. (Library) disagreed with A. S. (RES), who argued that F was printed from corrected copies of Q1, Q3, and Q6, “for the convenience of the compositors and the editor-corrector.”

 

Cairncross reasoned from Q1/F ‘agreements in error’ (against Q3 & Q6) that “they would have either to be set down to pure coincidence, or to be explained by some common manuscript origin, that is, some bibliographical link between a manuscript assembled memorially by the players (Q), and the authentic playhouse manuscript (F)—bibliographical links which would further have to be maintained contrary to the quarto copy used. Neither supposition will suffice. . . . Q1, Q3, and Q6 must all be considered as possible sources of copy for F throughout.”

 

Walton disagreed, somewhat contemptuously, often irrelevantly, but not without effect. Intermingled use by compositors of three different quartos as F copy-texts doesn’t make full sense by the evidence. However, Cairncross nearly describes my working hypothesis (were I working). He factors in like cases: “Both quartos (Lear and Richard III) contain a memorial element, and there seems no sufficient reason not to relegate them to the ‘bad’ quarto class, except perhaps that they are, or rather seem, better than the other bad quartos so far recognized. It is a matter of degree, and the degree may be more apparent than real.” As Cairncross implies, if F reprints Q1 it can’t indicate the extent of Q1’s ‘badness.’

 

To eliminate objections to F’s use of three interchangeable quartos, I would alter his proposition: “the apparent alternation of careless correction with meticulousness, suggests that we are dealing, not with the vagaries of an individual corrector, but with alternate types of copy. The meticulousness may be nothing more than use of Q1 [as F printer’s copy], and Q1F agreements [against Q6] not corrections but adoption of uncorrected or partly corrected Q1 [as F copy]. The agreements of F with Q6 would thus be attributable to the intermittent use of Q6 copy; the absence of Q6F agreements being due, naturally, to the use of Q1 copy.”

 

The actual “Q1 copy” for F may not have been the printed Q1 but a transcription either of Q1 or of Q1’s own printer’s copy (QMS); the transcription will have incorporated corrections, large and small, found now only in F. Alternatively, QMS identity (or partial identity) with FMS can’t yet be ruled out. On these considerations, Q1/F agreements occupy their places alongside text from the printed F copy-texts, Q3 and Q6 (just as the redaction of Q1 King Lear was augmented by Q2 in the printing of F Lear; R3 would not be the only F text printed from manuscript revision of a bad quarto and other steps in the process I envision are also not unprecedented).

 

Cairncross elsewhere theorized a method of printing from exemplars of early editions. His description was poorly received and poorly understood, yet it has the merit of granting printers an often-denied intelligence: multiple individual copies of early editions were combined with corrected manuscript text such that each printed page had its corresponding written, corrected text pasted on the opposite page (necessitating preparation of another exemplar to correct the pasted-over pages). Thus the compositor (and corrector) had the means quickly to set the type for extensive redaction assisted by printed copy (according to their professional lights, rather than to modern editorial principles). For example, one-sixth of F R3 is printed, with little alteration, from two Q3 sections. There’s no way to know if reliable, separate printer’s copy was on hand but Walton may rightly suggest that “the absence of variants in the two passages is due to the failure of the collator to make the corrections an intact manuscript required him to make.” Yet required is too strong a word; the very existence of quarto printer’s copy for F R3 (or any reprint) in addition to manuscript copy implies some freedom in its use.

 

Arden3 notes that Alice Walker found 300 substantive F/Q1 agreements against Q2-Q6. Collation shows that F/Q1- and F/Q1Q2-only readings are much more numerous than exclusive F agreements with the Q3 and Q6 reprints. If a redacted Q1 was the primary F printer’s copy, use of Q3 and Q6 was (in effect) on top of the manuscript descendant (and a largely irrelevant convenience): the “raging” argument over the later editions will have missed the significant evidence.

 

The relevant texts are Q1 and F; the evidence must be related to them in its proper order. However, it’s a good idea to keep some obstacles in mind. For example, A. E. Craven (SB 26) lists substantive variants compositor ‘A’ made in printing Q2 Richard 2 from Q1, where “only 5 changes of the total 155 produced readings that are patently unsatisfactory.” Although ‘thundering smoke’ (Q2) is no ‘thundring shocke’ (Q1), it works; but it also warns us not to suppose that variants are equally significant. Apparently, the same compositor set the Valentine Simmes portion of Q1 R3. In the same vein, a multitude of arbitrary alterations in F R3 can’t be trusted as meaningful without good reason. Yet there is plenty of evidence.

 

To disallow a probability that Q1 or QMS was directly involved in F’s printing, Walton assumed that FMS and QMS were practically identical. In his roundabout way, Jowett agrees: Q1 “forces us to recognize that there is something suspect about the assumption that memory is a world apart from transcription” (Perplexed, 233). The question is again one of degree. Jowett relegates extensive evidence of memorial transmission to scribal or compositorial error, when a fair Q1 assessment gets beyond those causes. Memorial reporting is not transcription; shorthand reporting is a world apart—too much of an original text is lost.

 

Jowett argues that a minor speech prefix crux indicates QMS derivation from FMS. Of the vast evidence of memorial transmission, prefix error is among the strongest. Shorthand reporting inherently mistakes speech ascriptions that subsequent agency can’t effectually repair. There is no plausible explanation of such error in authorial or transcribed texts when correct prefixes are essential to all stages of production in the playhouse. To assume that Q1 inherits its mix-ups from F is merely to repeat Walton’s mistaken view that Q1 reproduces F so well that it can serve as F printer’s copy. Strange to say, their next trick is to assert that Q1 could not have been F copy because it matches F too closely.

 

In reply to Walton, Cairncross cites classical scholars to observe that it “is taken for granted that the establishment of the genealogy of documents ‘depends on the principle that identity of reading implies identity of origin.’ The only alternative is where coincidence operates. ‘Accidental coincidences do occur, and have to be reckoned for: but except where an alteration is very plausible and tempting, the chances that two transcribers have made the same alteration independently is relatively small’” (RES). We must apply a form of this principle in respect of R3: A memorial report—especially a shorthand report—made so many changes to a text, many of which would not be recognized as errors without authentic text to compare, that “identity of reading” throughout a second text could not possibly occur unless the second text derives from the report. The idea that a theatrical report might accurately reproduce an authorized text is fantastic. It could record a ‘good’ performance, but comparison to previously written text would reveal great differences; spelling, punctuation, errors, speech assignments (right or wrong in substance, s.p.’s would differ), set directions, and many other features (whether substantive or ‘accidental’) would attest that one text copied another.

 

All agree that F R3 reprints Q1, through Q3 and Q6. But with 300 Q1-only agreements with F, and many Q1/Q2-only agreements, given the nature of theatrical reporting, F must reprint Q1 itself. Except for its additions and some substitutions, F is Q1—a shorthand report. The whole of the project implies the lack of authorized text. It may be that a mistaken assumption of good manuscript copy of the play available to the publishers is repeated by assuming authorized text for the additions and corrections.

 

I got on another tangent by reading Alice Walker’s “300” commentary. It is interesting (to me) how close early investigators get to textual solutions, only to veer off when assumption dragons get too hot. If not before, I apologize now for the numerous long postings. I look behind assumptions mostly to satisfy my own curiosity. With moderate results I suppose others might be interested. That mistake is compounded by one thing leading to another.

 

I’m reminded of an old movie’s textual problem: dive-bomber Fred MacMurray said good-bye to his dog Piggy as he headed toward a smokestack; the media thought he said “Peggy” and the plot thickened.

 

Gerald E. Downs

 

 

 

R3 1.4

The Shakespeare Conference: SHK 27.038  Thursday, 4 February 2016

 

From:        Gerald E. Downs <This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.>

Date:         February 3, 2016 at 6:02:36 PM EST

Subject:    Last R3 1.4 

 

Speech headings in this part of R3 1.4 vary so much as to call the authority of either text into question. If F reprints Q1 the variants are merely editorial in nature and the mystery extends only to the F redactors. Twenty-first Century scholarship insists that Q1 derives from an authoritative F—by analysis, Strangely enough, of minor speech heading variance, the most untrustworthy evidence of authorship; how can that be, unless the general mix-ups are ignored?

 

                          (Q1)  

1 Harke he stirs, shall I strike.                    990

2 No, first lets reason with him.

Cla. Where art thou keeper, giue me a cup of wine.

1 You shall haue wine enough my Lo: anon.

Cla. In Gods name what art thou.             995

2 A man as you are.

Cla. But not as I am, royall.

2 Nor you as we are, loyall.

Cla. Thy voice is thunder, but thy lookes are humble.

2 My voice is now the Kings, my lookes mine owne.

Cla. How darkly, and how deadly doest thou speake:

Tell me who are you, wherefore come you hither?

Am. To, to, to.

Cla. To murther me. Am. I.       1005

Cla. You scarcely haue the hearts to tell me so,

And therefore cannot haue the hearts to doe it.

Wherein my friends haue I offended you?

1 Offended vs you haue not, but the King.  1010

Cla. I shal be reconcild to him againe.

2 Neuer my Lo: therfore prepare to die.

 

 

                                  (F)

1 Soft, he wakes.

2 (1*) Strike.

1 (2*) No, wee'l reason with him.

Cla. Where art thou Keeper? Giue me a cup of wine.

2 (1*) You shall haue Wine enough my Lord anon.

Cla. In Gods name, what art thou?

1 (2*) A man, as you are.

Cla. But not as I am Royall.

1 Nor you as we are, Loyall.

Cla. Thy voice is Thunder, but thy looks are humble.

1 My voice is now the Kings, my lookes mine owne.

Cla. How darkly, and how deadly dost thou speake?

Your eyes do menace me: why looke you pale?

Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come?

2 To, to, to---

Cla. To murther me?

Both. I, I.

Cla. You scarsely haue the hearts to tell me so,

And therefore cannot haue the hearts to do it.

Wherein my Friends haue I offended you?

1 (2*) Offended vs you haue not, but the King.

Cla. I shall be reconcil'd to him againe.

2 (1*?)  Neuer my Lord, therefore prepare to dye.

 

By the simple splitting of Q1 990, F reverses a number of prefixes but they need renumbering anyway; 1 is anxious to strike; 2 wants to talk (as Richard advised not to do); 1 predicts the Duke will be floating in wine—he’s hung up on the malmsey barrel. Contra Q1, F gets the ‘loyal’ remark right—1’s animosity is apparent throughout. But when it’s 1 or 2, getting it right is fifty-fifty unless Shakespeare gets in the Act.

 

Clarence responds with ‘thou’ to 1’s threatening voice and looks. ‘Your eyes . . . you pale’ is not in Q. F is not sensitive to ‘thou’/’you’ distinction (here and elsewhere) and F may have altered a legitimate line to agree with Q1’s ‘who are you,’ which likely repeats a ‘keeper’ line (but the Duke may have used a plural ‘you’ here). Otherwise, the dialogue reflects Clarence’s nobility: he uses ‘thou’; both killers respectfully say ‘you’ and ‘my lord.’ That soon changes.

 

2 is more likely to have ‘to, to, tooed’; ‘Aye, aye’ is a good response for ‘Both’ (an ‘i’ apiece), though I’m opposed to “altogether” as too corny for Shakespeare (but OK for “Airplane”). 2 is more apt to say they weren’t personally offended; and 1 sticks to his guns all the way to the butt. The texts don’t agree but agreeably take turns being wrong; the “hired men,” though individual creatures, become inconsistent in their speeches. The patterns are missed, and that pattern continues:

 

                                         (Q1) 

Cla. Are you cald foorth from out a world of men

To slay the innocent? what is my offence. . . .     1014

The deede you vndertake is damnable.  1023

1 What we will doe, we doe vpon command.

2 And he that hath commanded, is the King.

Clar. Erronious Vassaile, the great King of Kings,

Hath in the tables of his law commanded,

That thou shalt doe no murder, and wilt thou then

 

Clarence hath already 0’d in on 2; the Biblical ‘thou’ carries over to ‘wilt thou’ (F’s ‘will you’ misses the transition). The suggestion is that 2 serves the wrong King. From their first acquaintance, 2 intends to ‘reason’—not to convince the Duke why he’s a goner, but to ‘prepare’ his going hence. Clarence aims to talk them out of it: he gets to 2, but 1 is a tougher, bitterer, and ornerier nut to crack. 

 

Spurne at his edict, and fulfill a mans?

Take heede, for he holds vengeance in his hands, 1030

To hurle vpon their heads that breake his law.

2 (1*) And that same vengeance doth he throw on thee,

For false forswearing, and for murder too:

Thou didst receiue the holy sacrament,

To fight in quarell of the house of Lancaster.

1 And like a traitor to the name of God,

Didst breake that vowe, and with thy trecherous blade,

Vnript the bowels of thy soueraignes sonne.

2 (1*) Whom thou wert sworne to cherish and defend.

 

The counter-argument and accusatory history surely all belongs to the partisan 1 (now he’s talking!) There’s no Mutt & Mutt or Jeff & Jeff alternating here. Royal protocol aside, Clarence’s crime warrants 1’s Godly ‘thee,’ ‘thou,’ and ‘thy’; ‘like a traitor to the name of God,’ Clarence murdered the anointed King’s son). He’s got the Duke over a butt; but he doesn’t know that Clarence has even now expressed his remorse to the keeper.

 

1 How canst thou vrge Gods dreadfull Law to vs,

When thou hast broke it in so deare degree?

Cla. Alas, for whose sake did I that ill deede,

For Edward, for my brother, for his sake:

Why sirs, he sends ye not to murder me for this,

For in this sinne he is as deepe as I:     1045

 

Chastised, Clarence addresses both with a contrite ‘ye’; F again substitutes ‘you’. How much can be made of Q1’s slight variant, I don’t know; but I like it. I also like the idea that 1, who scorns conscience, now echoes the Duke’s own conscience well enough to elicit both confession and lame excuse: “Look guys, my brother made me do it.”

 

If God will be reuenged for this deede,

Take not the quarrell from his powerfull arme,

He needes no indirect, nor lawlesse course,

To cut off those that haue offended him.

1 Who made thee then a bloudy minister,

When gallant springing braue Plantagenet,

That Princely Nouice was stroke dead by thee?

Cla. My brothers loue, the diuell, and my rage.

1 Thy brothers loue, the diuell and thy fault  1055

Haue brought vs hither now to murder thee.

Cla. Oh if you loue my brother, hate not me,

I am his brother, and I loue him well:

 

Now that the tables are turned, Clarence reverts to the plural to try a new tactic—brotherly love—which lays another egg. At 1055 1 refers (in part, at least) to Richard’s “tough love.” F alters 1’s ‘the devil’ to a weak ‘our duty,’ in keeping with its editorial abhorrence of repetition. If Clarence is the devil’s minister, 1 can also leave God out of the formula: “The devil makes us do it” is a good comeback.   

 

If you be hirde for meede, go backe againe,

And I will send you to my brother Glocester,

Who will reward you better for my life,

Then Edward will for tydings of my death.

2 You are deceiu'd, your brother Glocester hates you.

 

2 is the correct speaker, prefix- and rank-wise; he doesn’t use ‘thou.’

 

Cla. Oh no, he loues me, and he holds me deare,  1065

Go you to him from me.

Am. 1* I, so we will.

 

F rightly assigns the reply to 1, who cynically refers to their ‘meede.’ That isn’t 2’s character; 1 cracks the private jokes and they wouldn’t speak together.

 

Cla. Tell him, when that our princely father Yorke,

Blest his three sonnes with his victorious arme:

And chargd vs from his soule, to loue each other,

He little thought of this deuided friendship.   1070

Bid Glocester thinke of this, and he will weepe.

Am. 1*  I, milstones as he lessond vs to weepe.

 

Again, F’s 1 is right. It’s not credible that the two characters would express the same thought.

 

Cla. O doe not slaunder him for he is kind.

1 Right as snow in haruest, thou deceiu'st thy selfe, 1074

Tis he hath sent vs hither now to slaughter thee.

Cla. It cannot be, for when I parted with him,

He hugd me in his armes, and swore with sobs,

That he would labour my deliuery.

2 1* Why so he doth, now he deliuers thee,  1079

From this worlds thraldome, to the ioies of heauen,

1 2* Makes peace with God, for you must die my Lo:

 

At 1074, 1 is identified by his cynicism and ‘thou,’ ‘thy,’ and ‘thee.’ F arbitrarily alters to ‘you,’ ‘yourself,’ and ‘you,’ as at 1079—as yousual, but F rightly gives both lines to the harsh 1; 2’s ‘you are deceived’ becomes ‘thou deceiv’st thyself.’ 1081 should be 2 (as F) because the speaker is still respectful (‘you . . . my lord’) and merciful, though he has not abandoned the mission; it will be an “accomplishment” for everyone if George wheedles a “Get out of Hell Free” card.

 

1 (‘thee’) only jokingly assumes that redemption is at the ready and that landing in heaven makes up for all the turbulence en route. 2 eases his own conscience while 1, Richard, and Will yuk it up. Meanwhile, Clarence pleads for his life; like the young lady whose wooden whistle wooden whistle, he can’t spare a breath for prayers likely to be answered by ye olde Old Sparky.

 

Cla. Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soule,

To counsell me to make my peace with God;

And art thou yet to thy owne soule so blinde,  1085

That thou wilt war with God, by murdring me?

Ah sirs, consider, he that set you on

To doe this deede, will hate you for this deede.

2 What shall we doe?

 

Clarence again appeals to 2 with ‘thou’ and God’s help, before switching to the plural. For what it’s worth, he is wrong again: Richard won’t be sorry anytime soon.

 

In these lines F alters ten speech headings, often arbitrarily and at times while changing ‘thou’ to ‘you’ even though 1 is newly identified as the speaker. Taken from the top of the scene, the pronouns help to tell a ‘desperate’ (from despair; finally hopeless) tale of rank, religion, remorse, indignation, courtesy, anger, and so on (a list I remember from the Boy Scouts!). Q1’s and F’s haphazard prefixes (repeated throughout the texts) disguise Shakespeare’s natural, nuanced command of grammar and meaning in the use of the pronouns. While Q’s dialogue is more trustworthy (because it was caught on a “tablet”), neither text can lay claim to “unbroken” authority. If it’s broken it ought to be fixed.

 

Gerald E. Downs

 

 

 

Shakespeare & the English Language

The Shakespeare Conference: SHK 27.037  Thursday, 4 February 2016

 

From:        Annie Martirosyan <This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.>

Date:         Thursday, February 4, 2016 at 3:13 PM

Subject:    Shakespeare & the English Language

 

If anyone missed the live streaming of Professor Crystal’s lecture-performance on Shakespeare and the English Language (accompanied by Ben Crystal’s Passion in Practice ensemble) within the framework of the British Council’s ‘Shakespeare Lives’ project, it is up on youtube now: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPuM9eAKo1I .

 

Best wishes

 

Annie

 

NEH Summer Seminar Notice

The Shakespeare Conference: SHK 27.036  Thursday, 4 February 2016

 

From:        Megan Estes <This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.>

Date:         February 4, 2016 at 1:45:21 PM EST

Subject:    NEH Summer Seminar Notice

 

SUMMER SEMINAR ON PUNISHMENT, POLITICS, AND CULTURE

Amherst College will host a National Endowment for the Humanities Summer Seminar for K-12 teachers and current full time graduate students who intend to pursue a career in K-12 teaching, from June 27-July 28, 2016.  The seminar will be directed by Austin Sarat of the Departments of Political Science and Law, Jurisprudence and Social Thought.  It will examine three questions:  What is punishment and why do we punish as we do?   What can we learn about politics, law, and culture in the United States from an examination of our practices of punishment?  What are the appropriate limits of punishment?  The application deadline is March 1, 2016.  Information is available at http://www.amherst.edu/go/neh.  If you have any questions regarding the seminar or the application process, contact Megan Estes at (413)542-2380 or email This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..

 

*Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this program do not necessarily reflect those of the National Endowment for the Humanities.*

 

Megan L. Estes Ryan

Academic Coordinator

Law, Jurisprudence & Social Thought

Amherst College

This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.">This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. 

 

 

The Shakespeare Newsletter

The Shakespeare Conference: SHK 27.035  Thursday, 4 February 2016

 

From:        John Mahon <This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.>

Date:         February 4, 2016 at 4:07:43 PM EST

Subject:    The Shakespeare Newsletter

 

NEW ISSUE OF SN

 

The Shakespeare Newsletter (SN) has just published its Fall, 2015 issue. It offers 60 pages of news and reviews--60 pages because SN will henceforth be published twice a year, in Fall and Spring. The frequency of publication has been changed but not the total number of pages offered to readers. Highlights of the new issue include Mike Jensen’s “Talking Books” feature, this time with Zachary Lesser as interlocutor; Grace Tiffany’s “Review of Periodicals”; ten book reviews—among the reviewers are Edward Pechter, Ken Tucker, and Arthur Kincaid; and a number of theatre reviews, including Druid Theatre’s first Shakespeare productions and the RSC’s recent Othello, as well as an extended overview of the 2015 season at Ashland. Check out the SN webpage {www.iona.edu.snl) for details about subscriptions. Don’t forget to take a look at SN’s Blog, “In the Glassy Margents,” where John Mahon offers a preview of a forthcoming extended review of the recent Broadway production of the award-winning West End play, King Charles III, written in blank verse and using Shakespeare’s histories and tragedies as sources for development of the plot (www.glassymargents.com).

 

 

Subscribe to Our Feeds

Search

Make a Gift to SHAKSPER

Consider making a gift to support SHAKSPER.