Eric The Blue

Shakespeare in his sonnets

A passage from Francis Meres's Palladis Tamia, Wits Treasury, published in 1598, refers to "honey-tongued Shakespeare, witnes his Venus and Adonis, his Lucrece, his sugred Sonnets among his priuate friends, &c."  The passage has persuaded scholarship that most if not all of Shakespeare's known 150 or so sonnets were in existence by the latter part of the 1590s, which would mean they were composed when he was by a few years either side of 30.  They are uneven in quality and remind us that Shakespeare, who died within a few days of his 52nd birthday, was something of a late bloomer: had he been dead at 30, as was his contemporary Christopher Marlowe, literary history would likely regard the two as approximate coequals.  Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, and Macbeth all belong to a 5- or 6-year period coinciding roughly with the second half of his fourth decade of life.

Since he is perhaps the leading cultural icon of western civilization, and knowledge of his biography is mainly limited to documents as colorless as church records and real estate conveyances, there has naturally been a lot of interest in anything that might inform us about his private life.  The sonnets have been in this regard a fertile and possibly over-farmed field.  It's possible to detect two groups of poems: those numbered 1 to 126 concern a young man, the poet's admired friend and social superior, who is encouraged to marry and have children--though it is not always apparent that the subject is the same man, or even a man.  Several of these poems allude to a rival poet who also praises the friend. The remaining 25 or so sonnets concern the famous "dark lady" and an unusual love triangle.  The dark lady--the ideal Elizabethan beauty was a blonde ("snowy breasts" being a cliched term of praise)--is beautiful, promiscuous, and, to the poet, irresistible, though she also arouses in him feelings of disgust with himself. In #144 ("Two loves I have, of comfort and despair"), the dark lady has seduced the trusted friend, and the poet's reaction is not anger over the double betrayal but concern for the welfare of the friend.  The poem, like many of those involving the dark lady, is overtly sexual: in #144, for instance, it is not hard to tell what the poet means when he imagines "one angel in another's hell" (the trusted friend penetrating the dark lady), the proof arriving in the well known symptom of a venereal infection ("Till my bad angel fire my good one out").

The temptation has been to regard these poems as veiled or even coded autobiography, and the reaction to the speculating succumbers to temptation has been to declare all such inquiries irrelevant.  If the author of Macbeth was not himself a mass murderer, then the sonnets, too, are an exercise of imaginative projection.  Hallet Smith, in his introduction to the sonnets in The Riverside Shakespeare, concludes that agnosticism is the responsible position on this question.  Perhaps, but what of our fun?  If only murderers could write of murder, then the literature of murder would be slight; the situation may however be different with love triangles. There is a sense in which the sonnets often seem quite personal--when the poet, for example, more than once puns on his first name. Last gossipy comment: when Shakespeare was 18, he married a woman 26; they had three children, a boy and two girls, but seem to have lived apart, Shakespeare of course in the theatrical world of London and his wife back at Stratford, through the better part of two decades; and Shakespeare, in his will, famously left to her his "second best bed."  It requires a quality of mind akin to negative capability to remain agnostic about the possible meaning of these details without flying to wild conclusions about how they may fit together with the sketchy "story" told by the sonnets.

I said that the sonnets are uneven.  Shakespeare is Shakespeare, but it has to be said that more than half are tangled, boring webs that would never be read if he hadn't written them.  One can find fault even with some that are justly famous.  Of #29, for instance, it seems fair to ask how, if the mere memory of his love elevates him from despair to "heaven's gate," he could nevertheless avoid thinking of her (or him) long enough to get so despondent in the first place.  Keats complained of the "pouncing rhymes," and indeed the concluding couplet lends itself to chimingly cheap endings.  Shakespeare rarely appears to have labored to avoid this pitfall--besides #29, see #12, #30, #60, and #130, all of which conclude gimpily after memorable starts.  I think the best of the lot are #71, #73, #116, and #138, though others will have favorites that I have maybe slandered.  We could still agree that his best sonnets are among the very best short poems in the language.

Discussions of Shakespeare's sonnets, if they take up The Autobiographical Question, invariably relate the anecdote of Wordsworth's remark that Shakespeare, in his sonnets, "unlocked his heart"--to which Browning retorted, "Then the less Shakespeare he."  I take Browning to be saying there's bigger game in the Shakespearean forest.  If you are interested in his biography, and have clicked through the links above, you will have noticed that what the sonnets are more than anything else about is: impermanence, the levelling power of time, the transience of life.  A characteristic emotion, and phrase, concerns "precious friends hid in death's dateless night."  The author of these poems is the author of Macbeth, whose hero denigrated life by comparing it to "a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more."  For all the infinite variety, the theme goes right through the center of his work.  Toward the end of The Tempest, the late play often called "Shakespeare's last word," Prospero expresses it one last time:

Our revels now are ended. These our actors
(As I foretold you) were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air,
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-clapp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And like this insubstantial pageant faded
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

Newt ascendant; Hinderaker dismayed

With the Republican presidential nominating contest having taken another hairpin curve, it's time to check in with Power Line.  What do the boys make of it?

Here is John Hinderaker last Thursday evening, analyzing the CNN debate wherein Newt ripped John King a new one:

Newt Gingrich fell short because he didn’t dominate. Newt is very smart, and is a master of the one-liner. But tonight, while he performed well, he failed to outshine his competitors. Mitt Romney, in particular, was just as effective as Gingrich, at times more so, as when he accepted responsibility for being successful. My guess is that Romney won the South Carolina primary tonight. We will soon know whether that prediction is correct.

I'd say he underestimated the fat prolix little wanker named Gingrich.  He appears to have known it himself the next day, Friday, when, revisiting the previous evening's debate, he wrote:

. . . for the moment let’s just focus on the allegations by Newt’s second ex-wife that hit the press this week. Apart from all the other good reasons why Gingrich will never be President, Marianne Gingrich’s sensational allegations snuffed out any possible hope that Newt can beat Barack Obama in 2012. 

[Snip]

Newt makes matters worse by trying to have it both ways. He won’t discuss Marianne’s claims; instead, in last night’s debate he lashed out at the media for publicizing them and at John King for asking about them. The audience of rabid Republicans ate it up. But at the same time, Gingrich implicitly acknowledged how devastating his ex-wife’s stories are by asserting that they are “false.” By calling her a liar, he put her allegations into play. Which claims, exactly, are false? Presumably not everything she said in the ABC interview; then, what? Anyone who seriously thinks that Gingrich can run against President Obama in the fall without both 1) being dogged by such questions, and 2) being turned into a laughingstock, is, in my opinion, delusional. 

I love the dismissive reference to "rabid Republicans" and the final epithet, "delusional," which is also the title of the post.  John, these are your people!  He turns to the question of electoral viabililty:

It is painful to contemplate the extent of the GOP wipeout that would follow a Gingrich nomination. Would Newt carry a state? Wyoming, maybe? South Carolina? The Republican Party could kiss its hopes of retaking the Senate goodbye, and likely would lose control over the House, giving Obama carte blanche to devastate the country for another four years.

Oh, my!  Having miscalculated Newt's appeal to South Carolinia Republicans, he is now off his tether on a related matter.  The concentration of delusional wing-nuts in the general population, and their geographic dispersion, is sufficient to put Newt over the top in perhaps a dozen states.  But, at a high level, I think John's right: if Obama were to carry 38 states, that would be ten more than four years ago, which would put him well north of 400 electoral votes--a landslide for the incumbent during bad economic times.  What can be said about an opposition party capable of such a feat?  Moreover, Gingrich would likely be toxic at the top of the ticket.  He corroborates the misgivings of swing voters regarding the Republican party.  But, then, which of the-Republican presidential candidates doesn't?

John is silent on the obvious weaknesses of Romney.  The poor guy is flummoxed by the utterly predictable call for him to release his tax returns.  He's a manifest trimmer who will never be able to explain why, if Romneycare was good for Massachusetts, Obamacare must be repealed to save the republic.  He's a Mormon and a past supporter of abortion rights.  According to exit polls in South Carolina, Gingrich defeated Romney, 45% to 9%, among the quarter or so of the electorate who said that the religious beliefs of the candidates mattered a lot to them.  Since these are John's people, maybe he could explain the appeal of swingin' Newt Gingrich to the good Christian ladies and gentlemen of South Carolina.  It's certainly not an advertisement for Romney's vote-getting prowess.

John is up with a new post today, "Congratulations, Newt," that's somewhat mellower in tone, like Shakespeare in The Tempest.  Not that he's gone entirely soft on Newt:

So, congratulations to Newt, and on to Florida. Let’s just pray that Barack Obama’s second term didn’t start today. If Gingrich does get the nomination, this may turn out to be a year in which Republicans more or less ignore the presidential race, ceding Obama his second term, and focus instead on trying to hold the House and, if possible, picking up a seat or two in the Senate, along with doing the best we can in state races where the wipeout at the presidential level doesn’t swamp all efforts to elect Republicans.

I'm not sure that the details jibe with what he said two days ago about how Republicans, if they nominate Gingrich, can "kiss hopes of retaking the Senate goodbye." Since there are currently just 51 Senate Democrats, plus two independents who caucus with them, it seems that someone able to contemplate the Republicans picking up two seats could muster one more ounce of optimism.  It's not as if his calibrations are uniformly, meticulously fine.

But, you know what?  I'm going to put in a good word for John.  He's distinguishing himself from the Gingrich enthusiasts, who, I agree, are delusional.  Moreover, if the only sin is to bore, then John and all the rest of the brawling R's are as favored by God as they imagine.

Netflix and Newt

While Newt Gingrich trod upon John King with cold feigned fury, we were enjoying "Moneyball," concerning Billy Beane's effort to make the Oakland A's champions on a dime after they lost Johnny Damon, Jason Isringhausen, and Jason Giambi to free agency in 2001.  You are carried away by the best theme ever invented--the poor plucky underdog waging battle against the New York Yankees and other overlords.  Beane's no-names with high on-base percentages won 20 games in a row in 2002 before bowing to my Twins in the first round of the playoffs.  In the cold light of day it seems crazy that a movie about the 2002 Oakland A's makes hardly a mention of Miguel Tejada (the league MVP) or of Barry Zito (winner of the Cy Young award).  It wan't only the no-names, and the Twins aren't exactly overlords.  I'm just saying.

You don't have to wait till morning for Newt's case to look a little thin.  When he said that his friends of the time would all attest that he never asked his second wife to make room for more, John King should have asked how his friends could know.  Were they spending as much time at his house as he was?  Also, it's more than a little rich that one of Clinton's impeachers should appear outraged over being asked about his marital strayings.  He's a fat little wanker, but I hope he wins South Carolina, so that the internecine games can continue.

Bridesmaids; and other mediocrities

"Bridesmaids," the Judd Apatow-produced box-office hit, was our most recent Netflix rental.  We all know that grossout scenes of overfed, overdrunk young men vomiting in slo-mo are hilarious.  How about when nubile young women who've had a bad meal are similarly afflicted?  Only to a degree.  I think the movie overstays its welcome, and the ending, in which the main character gets together with the likable fellow she's been pushing away, screams: Focus-group tested!

Speaking of mediocrity, what about the arguments against gay marriage?  Yesterday's Star Tribune treated us to "Why should I accept same-sex couples," by Dan  Nye, of Edina.  He has six questions he wants people like me to answer, forthrightly and civilly.  Here's no. 1:

Were our ancestors all dumb and bigoted because they thought homosexuality was wrong?  Some may think that accepting homosexuality is innovative and progressive, but others say abandoning our previous norm may be presumptuous on our part.  In other words, our ancestors might have been right, and we might be wrong.

Our ancestors weren't right about everything, Dan.  The earth isn't at the center of the universe, chattel slavery is a moral abomination, ditto for laws banning interracial marriage, and the Clinton tax hike was not a jobs killer.  Is it too much to ask for a logical argument?

Here's no. 2:

Don't our sexual organs exist for reproduction?  How does homosexuality square with that?

And our eyes exist for vision.  I'm not sure why it follows that homosexuals must not be permitted to marry.  Men who "shoot blanks" are allowed to marry.  Couples who meet at Sun City mixers can marry.  Still waiting for a coherent argument, Dan.

No. 3 has a lot of words.  Here they come:

It is no secret that the human sex drive is a lot stronger than is needed for reproduction.  Do we just give in to those desires, or do we try to control them?  The ancients told us that controlling our physical desires is one of the things that distinguish us from the beasts.  Sexual desires, if not controlled, easily lead us into trouble.

Completely off point.  Suppose I were to acknowledge that all this tic-tac-toe stuff is true.  Why would it follow that homosexuals should not be allowed to marry?  Still waiting for a coherent argument, Dan. 

It's soon time for me to start watching televised football, so here's a quick run-down on the second half of Dan's case.  No. 4 says that, as pederasty is bad, so is homosexuality.  No. 5 introduces the term "prevalent homosexuality," which "will not work in society."  No. 6 says that homosexuals will likely all go to hell, so those who would coddle them "may be doing indescribable harm."  He concludes with a portentous challenge:

If all you have is name-calling, you have no valid position.  If truth is on your side, answer these questions in a civil manner.

Poor Dan.  He seems to think that his being a moron and a bigot requires everyone to take him seriously. 

Republicans in New Hampshire

A couple observations, on the day of the New Hampshire primary, concerning the contest for the Republican presidential nomination, if an outsider may speak of it.

1. Romney is benefiting from being perceived as unlike the others.  That could change if Huntsman finishes a strong second to him in New Hampshire.  Then there would be in the field an "alternative Romney" as well as all the "nonRomneys."  If the comparatively sane part of the Republican vote is split, then there would be a better chance for the winner of the loco subprimary to challenge Romney, so that we could all enjoy the internecine competition into the spring.  This scenario is, in Obamaland, devoutly to be wished.

What qualifies as a "strong second" for Huntsman?  Reaching rearward, and pulling something out of the orifice back there, I'd say within ten points.  Paul, who has a plausible claim to being unlike the other nonRomneys, appears to be the main obstacle to Huntsman finishing second.  It's also possible for Huntsman to finish such a distant second--like, say, the "one" in 2-to-1--that it doesn't matter.  If the headline is "Romney wins big," and he then wins South Carolina and Florida, too--fuggedaboudit.

2. There is a kind of tension among the Republicans that might be described as conflicted feelings about "big government."  They rail against it when the issue is the economy, taxes and spending.  On other matters, however, they are themselves what they refer to as "statists."  National security?  There can't be enough government.  Abortion?  All the talk about "freedom" comes to an end.  In one of their most recent debates, Romney took aim at a Supreme Court decision from the 1960s (Griswold) holding that states cannot bar the sale of contraceptives to married persons.  I had not thought this was one of the Court's controversial decisions but it was a point on which Santorum was eager to agree with Romney.

Paul, unlike the other nonRomneys, is not a cafeteria libertarian.  His consistency does not necessarily show the libertarian philosophy to advantage.  He would not stop people from using contraceptives.  He would also withdraw from the world stage, stop regulating business, fire a quarter million federal workers, end unemployment benefits, rescind civil rights legislation, and probably disband the National Institute of Health.  There is a reason governments are instituted among men.  Without them, we live in a state of nature where, according to the philosopher, life is "nasty, brutish, solitary, and short."

I'll be voting for Obama, warts and all.

UPDATE 9:30 p.m.
The headline is "Romney wins; Paul a distant second."  At this point, the identity of the second most likely Republican nominee is something of a mystery.  There's some talk about the turnout, which is not particulary high. 

Scatological

Internet down at our house!  Aided by a strong imagination, I could almost make out the sighs as legions of distraught readers, clicking on "Eric The Blue" in their "Favorites," discovered no new morsel day after tedious day.  And methadone won't help.  My sympathies!  The problem has now been solved by my technical advisor, who doubles as worthy spouse.  In tough times, you need people who can function at a high level in a variety of roles.

While I was offline, Romney won the Iowa caucuses by eight (8) votes over Rick Santorum, who, in a display of linguistic virtuosity by political journalists, was said to be "surging" 12,674,386,525 times.  More recently--while I was typing the above first paragraph, in fact--I heard him (Santorum) on the radio asserting that today's good jobs news should be attributed to rising confidence triggered by optimism over the prospect of Obama's imminent defeat.  An alternative view might suggest itself to members of the reality-based community but let us not intrude on the wishful thinking of a man momentarily enjoying the sun.  Besides, cheeriness is a political virtue.  Reagan loved to tell the story about the boy who thought a few tons of manure was a sure sign of a pony. 

Yet you will be forgiven by me if, having paid some attention to the Republicans vying for their party's presidential nomination, you come 'round to the conclusion that sometimes what appears to be a very large wagon load of shit is composed of just a single substance that is, in fact, shit.

Netflix: "Please Give"

This one made it into our queue because several years ago, when we still were "going out to the movies," we saw "Friends With Money," directed by Nicole Holofcener and starring Catherine Keener as one-half of an affluent married couple ruining the views of their neighbors, and the character of the subdivision, by putting a vertical addition on their house.  "Please Give" is also directed by Holofcener and features Keener, who is now one-half of an affluent married couple who have bought the neighbor's Manhattan apartment so that they can knock down the dividing wall and make their own living quarters roomier soon as the ninety-something inhabitant dies.  In both movies, the Keener character is afflicted with guilt--to the extent that, in "Please Give," she reads the ads for volunteers, and even goes to a couple of interviews.  But assisted living centers and schools for mentally handicapped children are not for her.  She has no talent for good works. When she offers cash to a slightly scruffy black man standing on a sidewalk, he explains that he's just waiting for a table.

It's not only the neighbor whose death will help her prosper.  She and her husband, played by Oliver Platt, have a used furniture store full of pieces purchased from estates being administered by harried survivors too eager to get on with their lives to make counter offers.  The least she can do is grocery shop for the nonagenarian, which brings her into contact with the old lady's granddaughters, one of whom is nice and one of whom isn't.  Her husband sleeps with the bad one.  The nice one has a notably flattened affect, like the house-cleaning maid played by Jennifer Anniston whose friends had money in the earlier film. Toward the end, the good one gets a nice boyfriend, Platt and the bad one break it off, and everyone comes together for the funeral of the old lady.  As if that may not be enough to cheer you up, in the very last scene Keener reconciles with her troubled teen-aged daughter by buying her a very expensive pair of blue jeans.  

"Thank you," says the girl.  "You're welcome," Keener replies.  Then dark screen, roll credits.

The movie has its moments, like when the good granddaughter, an x-ray technician specializing in mammograms, tells her nice boyfriend that to her breasts are just "tubes of potential trouble."  I think Amanda liked the movie more than I did, and I'd recommend it.