My self-assigned
summer reading list included a tetrad of Shakespeare histories, all of which
come to a head in this famous play. I’m
glad to have finally read it – with Shakespeare, it’s definitely a case of “so
many plays, so little time.” While I don’t
find it as astonishingly well-written as my favorites of his, it’s a fine play
about a fascinating character.
Reading
through of the first 75% of the tetrad, the three Henry VI plays, I was surprised that Richard appears at the end of
part 2 and takes a significant supporting role in part 3. Richard
III is so well-known, but I hardly ever hear people mentioning the Henry VI plays, so it’s strange to think
of it as a conclusion to a larger story.
But now, having read all four plays in succession, I can’t quite imagine
knowing it out of context. Although it’s
clearly the best-written of the four, the play itself exists best in conjunction
with the other three. (It helps to have
read the Hollow Crown tetrad as well,
written later but set earlier. There are
a handful of references to people and events from these plays that I wouldn’t
have gotten otherwise. This is what
happens when you’re not up on your medieval English history – you have rely on
what Shakespeare tells you.)
Anyway,
Richard III is the story of how
Richard, the deformed, duplicitous Duke of Gloucester, contrives against those standing
between him and the crown, including his older brother and his young
nephews. A self-proclaimed villain,
there’s nothing Richard won’t do to advance his aims. His utter lack of compunction served his
family well in the earlier plays, when his House of York wrestled the crown from
the House of Lancaster and his oldest brother became king – he gladly got his
hands dirty to further the cause of York.
Now, though, that same ambition has turned his own flesh and blood into
enemies, and Richard isn’t an enemy you want to have.
It’s
interesting to look at Richard from our modern viewpoint. Where Shakespeare says “villain,” we would
probably say “psychopath,” and indeed, many hallmarks of psychopathy are
present and specifically acknowledged within his character. He has no sense of remorse or empathy, and he
views people as inconsequential pawns he uses for his purpose. Though he’s not emotional (in earlier plays,
he’s the only one not to weep when members of his family are killed,) he’s
skilled at mimicking the requisite feelings and is a master manipulator who
plays just about everybody.
As far
as the text goes, it’s rich with excellent lines. Many of them come from Richard himself: the dark dramatic irony in his deceptions,
the hungry vigor in his soliloquies, and the scathing aspersions hiding under
his barely-feigned niceties. My biggest
shock, quote-wise, comes at the very start, in line 1. I honestly had to laugh when I discovered
that “Now is the winter of our discontent” is immediately followed by “…Made
glorious summer by this sun of York; / And all the clouds that lour’d upon our
house / In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.”
So basically, everything is awesome and everyone who’s ever cribbed this
quote is saying the exact opposite of this speech? Yeah, sounds about right.
Warnings
Lots of
heinous acts of villainy, a fair amount of violence (including murder and battle
scenes,) and plenty of Elizabethan innuendos.
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