In which there are four Tom Stoppard plays, none of which inspired an interesting post title
- Reading, books 2016, 129.
107. Night and Day, by Tom Stoppard, 1978, play set in an African country that is an ex-colony of the UK so it probably goes without saying that this centres around white British men (and Fleet Street), but still manages to be racist (why, yes, the only Black characters are a cowardly servant and a psychopathic dictator, with "normality" represented by white economically-privileged "ex-pat" English minor aristocrats). The character second most on stage is the only (white) woman but she is only allowed to exist in relation to her husband, her son, or her male lovers, (i.e. who she is fucking and the product of her fucking) which is normal-for-Stoppard and sexist even for 1978, obv. Night and Day is aiming much closer to Well-Made Play structure than the author's earlier work and so sacrifices the one thing that made it interesting, experimental form, in favour of communicating the conservative content more tediously clearly, and it is a deeply conservative discussion of "the freedom of the press" (Victorian-style conservatism with exploitative free market libertarianism thrown in, obv). Ironically history, in the form of neoliberal-extremist Rupert Murdoch and his Conservative political enablers, has subsequently proved much of the argument in this play, in favour of Press Barons and the status quo, wrong and wronger (and being conservative means it's not even wromantic but merely wrong), although as usual Mr Stoppard's attempts at ethical philosophy are glib in form and facile in content. David Hare has done this sort of exploration of the British establishment, including journalists and journalism, better and more often. (2/5 because the first act does as intended and engages the audience with the characters, although the second act doesn't deliver).
109. Hapgood, by Tom Stoppard, 1988-94, play, includes a vicious EnglishEnglish racial slur used in a punning context against an African-American character, who doesn't react to the racism because he doesn't recognise it so Tom Stoppard manages to add a stoopid 'merkins trope to the racist "joke". Ben Wates is also only the third (?) Black character in Stoppard's mainstream theatre work and the first who is a westerner-with-a-western-job and not either a colonial servant or an African dictator. This excuses me from giving a shit about anything else in this script. P.S. I can't remember how bad Indian Ink is but, yes, I am planning to read it. (0/5)
111. Indian Ink, by Tom Stoppard, 1995 (after Arcadia, 1993), play. Felicity Kendal's positive influence on Tom Stoppard's writing rly shows. The conservative politics is still predominant, and the colonialism is eye-rolling, but this play includes the first non-white characters Mr Stoppard has written into a major stage play that aren't exclusively racist stereotypes. The protag is female but she only exists in relation to mens' heterosexuality, while her sister exists only in relation to mens' careers, which still allows this to be less sexist than most of Mr Stoppard's work even with the usual woman = undressed / men = clothed trope he insists on - perhaps because it's the only way to get audiences to pay to see most of his plays? (2.5/5 although I'm assuming most of the plus points belong to Felicity Kendal)
112. Reread, fluff that didn't stand up to rereading, alas, but I didn't expect it to. :-)
113. The Invention of Love, by Tom Stoppard, 1997, play. Odd that a play ostensibly about homosexuality stars a historical character who was to all appearances asexual and one of the world's best known bisexuals, lol. Note: anyone who believes Housman was a "repressed" [anything] needs to re/read his poems and criticism of other scholars. (4/5)
• At this point I developed an urge for very literally interpreted Unseen University fic: "This morning I had cause to have typewritten an autograph letter I wrote to the father of a certain undergraduate. The copy as I received it asserted that the Master of Balliol had a solemn duty to stamp out unnatural mice."
• "Eros, which I suppose we may translate as extreme spooniness; showers of kisses and unblemished thighs." [...] "The Loves of Achilles: more spooniness than you'd find in a cutlery drawer [...]"
• According to the words put into AEH's mouth, Sappho also didn't exist (which is especially ironic as she was namechecked about 25 pages earlier) so perhaps Joanna Russ' How To Suppress Women's Writing requires another category: she wrote it but she was bisexual and bisexuals don't exist so neither does their writing. Although, to be fair, logical argument is not Mr Stoppard's metier, and he's better at linguistic games with cheap appeals to emotionality, which works well for portraying Housman (who claimed he believed art/poetry is for emotional appeal ahead of intellect).
AEH: "Oh, yes, there'd been songs ... valentines - mostly in Greek, often charming ... but the self-advertisement of farce and folly, love as abject slavery and all out war - madness, disease, the whole catastrophe owned up to and written in the metre - no; that was new."
• By AE Housman, first published posthumously in 1937
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?
And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists?
And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?
Oh they’re taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.
‘Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his;
In the good old time ‘twas hanging for the colour that it is;
Though hanging isn’t bad enough and flaying would be fair
For the nameless and abominable colour of his hair.
Oh a deal of pains he’s taken and a pretty price he’s paid
To hide his poll or dye it of a mentionable shade;
But they’ve pulled the beggar’s hat off for the world to see and stare,
And they’re haling him to justice for the colour of his hair.
Now ‘tis oakum for his fingers and the treadmill for his feet
And the quarry-gang on Portland in the cold and in the heat,
And between his spells of labour in the time he has to spare
He can curse the God that made him for the colour of his hair.
This entry was originally posted at http://spiralsheep.dreamwidth.org/590720.html and has
comments Please comment there using OpenID.
107. Night and Day, by Tom Stoppard, 1978, play set in an African country that is an ex-colony of the UK so it probably goes without saying that this centres around white British men (and Fleet Street), but still manages to be racist (why, yes, the only Black characters are a cowardly servant and a psychopathic dictator, with "normality" represented by white economically-privileged "ex-pat" English minor aristocrats). The character second most on stage is the only (white) woman but she is only allowed to exist in relation to her husband, her son, or her male lovers, (i.e. who she is fucking and the product of her fucking) which is normal-for-Stoppard and sexist even for 1978, obv. Night and Day is aiming much closer to Well-Made Play structure than the author's earlier work and so sacrifices the one thing that made it interesting, experimental form, in favour of communicating the conservative content more tediously clearly, and it is a deeply conservative discussion of "the freedom of the press" (Victorian-style conservatism with exploitative free market libertarianism thrown in, obv). Ironically history, in the form of neoliberal-extremist Rupert Murdoch and his Conservative political enablers, has subsequently proved much of the argument in this play, in favour of Press Barons and the status quo, wrong and wronger (and being conservative means it's not even wromantic but merely wrong), although as usual Mr Stoppard's attempts at ethical philosophy are glib in form and facile in content. David Hare has done this sort of exploration of the British establishment, including journalists and journalism, better and more often. (2/5 because the first act does as intended and engages the audience with the characters, although the second act doesn't deliver).
109. Hapgood, by Tom Stoppard, 1988-94, play, includes a vicious EnglishEnglish racial slur used in a punning context against an African-American character, who doesn't react to the racism because he doesn't recognise it so Tom Stoppard manages to add a stoopid 'merkins trope to the racist "joke". Ben Wates is also only the third (?) Black character in Stoppard's mainstream theatre work and the first who is a westerner-with-a-western-job and not either a colonial servant or an African dictator. This excuses me from giving a shit about anything else in this script. P.S. I can't remember how bad Indian Ink is but, yes, I am planning to read it. (0/5)
111. Indian Ink, by Tom Stoppard, 1995 (after Arcadia, 1993), play. Felicity Kendal's positive influence on Tom Stoppard's writing rly shows. The conservative politics is still predominant, and the colonialism is eye-rolling, but this play includes the first non-white characters Mr Stoppard has written into a major stage play that aren't exclusively racist stereotypes. The protag is female but she only exists in relation to mens' heterosexuality, while her sister exists only in relation to mens' careers, which still allows this to be less sexist than most of Mr Stoppard's work even with the usual woman = undressed / men = clothed trope he insists on - perhaps because it's the only way to get audiences to pay to see most of his plays? (2.5/5 although I'm assuming most of the plus points belong to Felicity Kendal)
112. Reread, fluff that didn't stand up to rereading, alas, but I didn't expect it to. :-)
113. The Invention of Love, by Tom Stoppard, 1997, play. Odd that a play ostensibly about homosexuality stars a historical character who was to all appearances asexual and one of the world's best known bisexuals, lol. Note: anyone who believes Housman was a "repressed" [anything] needs to re/read his poems and criticism of other scholars. (4/5)
• At this point I developed an urge for very literally interpreted Unseen University fic: "This morning I had cause to have typewritten an autograph letter I wrote to the father of a certain undergraduate. The copy as I received it asserted that the Master of Balliol had a solemn duty to stamp out unnatural mice."
• "Eros, which I suppose we may translate as extreme spooniness; showers of kisses and unblemished thighs." [...] "The Loves of Achilles: more spooniness than you'd find in a cutlery drawer [...]"
• According to the words put into AEH's mouth, Sappho also didn't exist (which is especially ironic as she was namechecked about 25 pages earlier) so perhaps Joanna Russ' How To Suppress Women's Writing requires another category: she wrote it but she was bisexual and bisexuals don't exist so neither does their writing. Although, to be fair, logical argument is not Mr Stoppard's metier, and he's better at linguistic games with cheap appeals to emotionality, which works well for portraying Housman (who claimed he believed art/poetry is for emotional appeal ahead of intellect).
AEH: "Oh, yes, there'd been songs ... valentines - mostly in Greek, often charming ... but the self-advertisement of farce and folly, love as abject slavery and all out war - madness, disease, the whole catastrophe owned up to and written in the metre - no; that was new."
• By AE Housman, first published posthumously in 1937
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?
And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists?
And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?
Oh they’re taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.
‘Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his;
In the good old time ‘twas hanging for the colour that it is;
Though hanging isn’t bad enough and flaying would be fair
For the nameless and abominable colour of his hair.
Oh a deal of pains he’s taken and a pretty price he’s paid
To hide his poll or dye it of a mentionable shade;
But they’ve pulled the beggar’s hat off for the world to see and stare,
And they’re haling him to justice for the colour of his hair.
Now ‘tis oakum for his fingers and the treadmill for his feet
And the quarry-gang on Portland in the cold and in the heat,
And between his spells of labour in the time he has to spare
He can curse the God that made him for the colour of his hair.
This entry was originally posted at http://spiralsheep.dreamwidth.org/590720.html and has
comments Please comment there using OpenID.