Emily C.A. Snyder's Blog, page 10

Meet My Men: or Writing Heroes

Recently, Jessica from NarniaMum and IndieJane.org was describing her hero from (I believe) an upcoming novel and it got me to thinking about the fictional heroes we write.  Or in Jess' words, the crush-worthy heroes we write.

THE CHALLENGE
Dear fellow bloggers, is to show off your heroes as well!  Who would you cast?  What makes them tick?  How do they speak and interact with others?  Do leave a comment with your blogpost...or even a pretty picture for others to enjoy!

I don't know that I have anything particularly clever to say about mine, but I thought I'd list them and see if there were any corresponding marks among them.  Or, if I don't, perhaps you will....


You can read more about them after the jump.  Including:
Mr Tilney from Nachtsturm Castle Gethin (and Pwll and Liam) from Niamh and the Hermit Theophilus Snow from The Sable Valentine Poityr vol Rev from Elspeth [working title] I'm not including the heroes for Presumption or The House of Strangeways - the first because I've teased six chapters already! and the second because we have not yet met Mr Daedelus Stryke .




Henry Tilney isn't really my hero but Jane Austen's, however I'll list some of the things that strike me about him.  Henry's clever, one of Austen's most witty heroes, and he's not above a joke, which is a common trait among Austen's foils but not her leading men.

[image error] That said, Henry can also turn on a dime, and displays a passion about small matters, such as the misuse of the word "nice."  It may be flippant to say that his pique at such small affairs is itself 'nice' in the original sense of the word; but Henry knows the importance of details, and the importance of fighting over meaning.

He is also completely and utterly devoted to his wife, Catherine; and since in Nachtsturm he gets to be an, as Margaret Sullivan put it, "Action!Henry" we get to see his defensive nature go up.  I have two personal favourite parts of Nachtsturm, and they are both Action!Henry moments:

From Chapter XIV
 Sothey continued, neither faltering nor gaining more than the other, both evenlymatched.... Until, with one last swing,they both lay senseless on the damp ground.Williamcame to first, but Henry – typically – managed to secure the first words."ForGod's sake," he panted from where he lay, "Do not jump!""ForGod's sake, I will not," replied Will, pushing himself off the ground. Thenbaring his chest, he whispered, "But for God's sake, do what you must do quickly."Henryrolled over, grunting as he put his weight on his bruised elbows. "Quicklywhat, man?""Ihave disgraced myself, my family, my father and mother, my title, my home, mycountry, my love…O! Lucia!""Quitea night's work.""Andyou, Herr Tilney, and your wife. I have brought shame on all who come near me,but I shall not shame my God and take my life. Your sword, Herr Tilney – Ideserve much less for what I have done – but I beg you: quickly."Henryjumped to his feet. "Do you intend that I should kill you?"Tearswere in Will's dark eyes again, but he managed a weak smile. "It is thecustomary means of sawing off a husband's ill–got horns."Henrywas no slow wit and nearly did draw his flintlock, but good breeding andclerical office overcame his impulse. "Have you, then, cuckolded me?"Willbowed his head."Explainyourself."Willbegan to jabber in at least two languages.Henrycut him off in a deadly quiet voice. "Did you lie with my wife, boy?"Will'spale face flushed as he looked up. "I am a God fearing man!"
            "Thenfear me," Henry answered.

Considerably shorter is this nugget from Chapter XVIII:

 Another strike of lightning – nowaccompanied by the deep–bellied rumble, and the horse reared, incidentallysetting Henry very picturesquely against the inconstant moon. Alas, Catherinewas deeply engaged in her argument with Old Edric and thus missed entirely themelodramatic display. But we may assume that, possessing so strong animagination, Catherine had often pictured Henry thus; and, as realities areoften just short of what we dream, so despite Catherine's immediate loss, thereis no denying that her excellent mind had the wind blowing east rather thanwest – which is to say, in her fancy, Henry's many–caped greatcoat swirled in agraceful drape away from his body, whereas in reality, the wind blew againsthim, slapping the greatcoat about our hero like an untidy cocoon.

I don't know if I have an actor in mind for my Henry.  I very much enjoyed J. J. Fields' portrayal, but to me I think Hugh Dancy (if he would lighten his hair a bit) might do very well as Action!Snarky!Whimsical!Henry.

NIAMH AND THE HERMIT

The hero of this "fairy tale for grown ups" is the titular Hermit - with the face and tail of a lion, and the wings and claws of an eagle.  He's one of those tortured souls, or has been, when we first meet him - think of the Beast from Beauty and the Beast if he'd made the fairy's curse himself.

[image error] He's not really a smiling sort (unless it's to bare his fangs), so it might be interesting to note that my favourite part is (again) near the end of the book, when Gethin's finally found Niamh, to whom he is betrothed...only to discover that she's lost all of her memories.  And that this other guy has taken advantage of that.  So what does Gethin do?  Well, for the first time he doesn't fight with tooth and claw, but tells Niamh a story.  It's a gentle moment, and very sweet.

The whole thing actually takes up the majority of a chapter, but I'll put a bit of their conversation here.  Gethin has told his story, and Niamh (who now believes she is Brighid) asks him:

From Chapter XV

Brighid was silent for some time,folding the damp clothes reflectively, and placing them back in the basket. "Whatof the other girl?" she asked at last.  "Theone who was to be married to Fingal and who suddenly had her life turnedupside-down? What of her?""The stories do not speak of her.But I have often hoped that she found a nice ostler and married him—one whonever would run off on adventures where one is bound to meet the strangestfolk.""Do you think she was happy? Asthe ostler's wife, I mean. When she had been bound for the great Fingal?""I hope she was."Brighid, her work complete, satback on her heels and regarded the stranger beside her.  He was not handsome in the way she thoughtFairies ought to be—as though a statue come to life—and yet he was notunpleasant to look at…  "You said that you might tell mewho I am," she said softly.  The windrustled the tall grass at the water's edge, making unexpected ripples in theriver and splashing water upon the shore."I have told you, in a way. Youare Fingal, or rather, are like Fingal. And the fire that you dream of is the cursed blood that plagued him.""And you are….""Gethin," he said shortly, pullingat the grass and tossing it away.  Then,looking up, he added, "Niamh's love.""And who is the Niamh you seek?"Gethin closed his eyes and laydown on his back, speaking to the Heavens. "I begin to wonder if she is a dream.""But a dream of whom? Of what?"Brighid persisted, moving to sit a little closer to him."A dream of perfection," heanswered.  "Have you never heard of her?The Princess whose beauty could drive men mad."Brighid laugh but the sound washollow in her ear….  "Does she stilldrive men mad?""Oh yes," Gethin said, and in hiseyes was a dangerous light….

If I were to cast any actor now, it might be Armie Hammer, who certainly has the voice, but Richard Armitage has the gravity.  I'm going to give Armitage the slight advantage here, since he's sporting a beard for The Hobbit ! And Gethin must also sing.



Just to note two more fellas from Niamh and the Hermit.  I really, really, really love Pwll and Liam: in part for their bromance, in part because Pwll is so delightfully cocky, and Liam is so wonderfully wounded, but also because they become heroes through the course of the book...even when the world doesn't know how much it owes to them.  I love me an unsung hero!

I like me pretty much every scene they're in (their respective romances with - for Liam, the huntress Graithne, and for Pwll, the tempestuous Elowen - are epic, torrid, and at least for Pwll, amusing), but I'll put their first mini-adventure here:

From Chapter IX

"I do not like this place," Liam saidsome days later as they led their horses through the close-set trees."You are not meant to like it,"Pwll replied.  "Or if you did, I'd slay you for a bogey."Liam grimaced. He had caught Pwllsinging twice now—in the early morning, when the squire thought the guardasleep.  When Liam had chastised him,though, Pwll had said that he sang songs to fright the beasts away, for if thesound of merriness were not enough to alarm them, then the atonality of his voiceshould surely daunt.  Still Liammaintained that it did no good to speak too loudly, much less to sing, in thatprickled web of twigs and bones.As though to verify the guard'sdiscretion, something snapped to the right of them."What is that?" Pwll breathed,swinging out his sword, even as Liam advanced, his own weapon at the ready.Brittle leaves, crusted with dirtand frost, rustled.  The horses pawed androlled their eyes, tugging at the reins held in their masters' hands.  Pwll threw Liam his rein and crept nearer thethornbushes.  All heard a snuffling, wetand slobbery, and a skittering here and there with sharp nails upon peelingbark. And then a strange and savage cry that chittered and brayed and howled tothe moon.Dead leaves exploded outward as acwynadd, as long as a man full-grown, pounced upon the horses' backs.  The chargers reared and kicked, trumpetingnervous warning.  Liam held tight totheir reins as they rushed away from the creature that bared its sharp teethand hissed.  Pwll set about him withsword, but the cwynadd leapt upon a tree, lashing its poison monkey-tail.  Again the squire swung and his sword bitdeep, slicing the sleek brown pelt. But before he could raise his arm, thecwynadd fell full upon him, anger in its black dog's eye.Squire and cwynadd rolled,wrestled. The creature shrieked and lifted its head to bite the human'sshoulder with fangs that darted venom. Shriek turned to whine as Liam beat thecwynadd with the flat of his blade again and again until the cwynadd fled, itswounded tail between its legs."My thanks," Pwll said, lyingbattered on the ground. "Where did you strike it?""I did not. That thing is partdog, part monkey—all fury if you bit it, all coward if you beat it. Have younever studied your bestiary?""No," Pwll laughed, accepting Liam'shand. "Except perhaps for horsemanship or hawking, or the care of a bloodhound."Then, stopping to star at the tangle of reins around a birch's trunk, thesquire exclaimed, "What have you done? A simple knot would have sufficed hadyou calmed them!""I have never had to calm a horsein peril of more than a shoeing. Findair plough horses are more even-temperedthan these beasts."The horses whickered and twitchedtheir ears as though they understood.Liam bent to undo the intricateconstrictor's hitch that he had learnt at his father's knee.  "Next time," he said, although not unkindly, "letme to the monsters and tend the horses yourself."

If I had my druthers, I'd cast Ben Barnes for Pwll of Branmoor, and Finn Jones as Liam.  Tra la!





THE SABLE VALENTINE

This is a sprawling novel which is giving me considerable difficulty in the plotting. (It's multiple POV, sometimes for the same scene, which bears enough similarities to The House of Strangeways , that Strangeways is serving as a good, more confined puzzles within puzzles epistolary novel!).

[image error] Anywho, without giving too much away, I can say that there's much more to Dr. Theophilus Snow than initially meets the eye.  Quite literally.  Snow is a man who laughs easily, a person with a wry and twinkling disposition...and a heretic.  At least to those who profess the demi-Puritanical religion of the Church of Flaming Arl.  Yet, he has no use either for the pantheon of the Laughing Gods.  He lives like a celibate, yet he's seen constantly in the company of the notorious socialite, Luce Thibeauld.  He's remarkably learnt; fluent in several languages; a lover of good opera (and a laugher at bad); a rescuer of women's reputations, and a ruiner of others.

Oh, yes! And sometimes his eyes are brown.  And sometimes they flash the traitorous blue of someone with sorcerous blood....

This is from perhaps a third or half-way into the first novel in the series.  It should be noted that the night before, our primary narrator, Giselle Pridieux, went searching for her missing father in a very unsavoury part of the city.  Unfortunately, this was on the same night that a fire was set in that same district, while the very wealthy attended a debauched event at which were drug-laced handkerchiefs.  Giselle wasn't mixed up in the latter, but as she escaped from the fire, she was seen by some reporters.  This is a longish excerpt, and you can read quite a bit of the novel at the website .

 I must admit that I picture Sean Bean in his Lovelace costume as Theophilus.  Who could play Dr. Snow now?  I leave that to you!


An Excerpt from  Giselle's Journal

  "But she is young yet, Theophilus,"Mme. Fournier amended.  "Give her anotheryear and she will make a pretty wife…" 

"Shewill not make a pretty wife, Antoinette,"the Prime Electman said when once we were all seated.  "She is very pretty now, is she notTheophilus?"Dr. Snow thanked Andrews who was pouringthe Lesseut rosé."However," M. Fournier continued, "I doagree that she will make a better bride in a year – say, six months' time.  Less prone to trip down the aisle, eh?""She would not falter now," Dr. Snowmurmured into his glass, "had she the proper attire.  Reverendress," he said rather more clearly,addressing my Aunt with a careless flick of his napkin, "I do hope you willallow me to lavish some gifts upon Mlle. Prîdieux.  I realise it is not wholly customary for thegroom to provide part of the bride's trousseau, but I should be more than happyto purchase many of the materials from you, Reverended Sir."Uncle Obadiah grunted into his soup,but did not deny him."Beats the d—n dimity," Pépé whisperedto me."And of course," Mme. Quinovoliot saidquickly, "we should be happy to provide for you any ornaments you deemnecessary, Dr. Snow.  Gizi" (she calledme Gizi!  She has no right to call me Gizi!) "would look divine in topaz or in amber, do you not agree?""Perfectly," Dr. Snow said.  "I have thought so for quite some time.""Then it is agreed," Mme. Fourniermerrily declared.  To which everyonesmiled, and applied themselves to their relative soups.Except, of course, myself.  "I beg pardon," I did not shout, "but what is agreed?""That you should marry Dr. Snow, ofcourse," came Mme. Fournier's cheerful response.My eyes flitted to Dr. Snow's profile,and I fancy the tips of his ears rouged.Still, I was not mollified."Is it?" I said, folding my napkin alltoo calmly."Yes, Giselle," Aunt Evangeline hissed."Ah.  Agreed. Agreed."  I confess I had begun to shout.  Much to no one's consternation, for theentire table—including the odious Dr. Snow—had the audacity to eat their soupin silence.  Only Pépé had the decency tonudge me.  Incensed, I threw down myspoon and cried again, "Agreed?"  The gesture, of course, sent dropletseverywhere, not the least of which on my skirts.Uncle Obadiah shot me a warning glancewhich, much to my chagrin, I did not heed. Nor did I heed him when he quietly called my name.  I colour to think of my behaviour now—It wasreally very childish and quite unnecessary—but then, I must remember, I had notyet read the evening paper.  How could Ihave known what had happened?  Nor whythey all had come?  Nor why they spoke so freely of my future….And yet, I do think that any one ofthem might have enlightened me more immediately.  But really, it is most disconcerting to have one night Maundy calmly stabbing strangemen in stranger alleys and the next the Prime Electman, the council of theLadies Egalité, my Uncle and even his clerk hedging me into marriage with aheretic sawbones…!But, no, that is too cruel.  (Would that I had such restraint at supper!  But alas, we cannot change what we havedone.  Only what we might do.)"Dr. Snow," I said, turning to thatpoor man, "I am very much afraid that your good nature has been abused.  Perhaps you were under the impression – quiteunderstandable given our mutual faith – that my hand, much less my goodwill,were my guardians' to give.  But assureyou that this is undoubtedly notso.  I am the ward of the state, Dr. Snow.  And I enter into my majority in a year andsix months' time.  Until then, andpossibly not even after then, I have no intention of bestowing my affectionupon anyone.  You will forgive me.""Do you mean to imply, Reverendress,"Dr. Snow said, turning to me so that I had little choice but to gaze at himmanfully (or womanfully as Aunt Evangeline might correct), "that I should haveapplied to the bureaucrats of the Palais Juste for your hand?""I dare make that answer," M. Fournierlaughed.  "No!""I mean," I said colouring, "that I amfree to make my own decisions."It was, perhaps, the wrong thing tosay.  Because all at once, AuntEvangeline put down her spoon (never a good thing), collected herself as thoughshe had been crying, and hissed, "Oh, free.  Yes, yes, Giselle – you are very free."  Then to Dr. Snow, "Reverended Sir, my niece hasbeen treated, I fear, far too freelyby her uncle and myself.  Certainly, asyou must know, she was never disciplined by her father who, I understand, hasquite abandoned her yet again.  We havealways been good to her, Doctor, perhaps too good and too indulgent, too freein her company with the ideals of the Egalité, too careless in our guardianship—allowingher to strike up friendships with men of every ilk—the Smith boy, Obadiah'sworkmen, even M. Pomeroy here."  (Pépéapplied himself vigorously at this point to attracting Andrews' attention foranother glass of wine.)  "Oh, no doubther father should be very proud.  We had great hopes, you know, Doctor Snow, ofGiselle marrying the Smith boy—but we can't have that now, of course.  So when, Giselle, you speak of freedom, and of choices," my Aunt continued, rising from her place to tower over usall, "you might have a care for consequencesas well!""Dr. Snow has made a very handsomeoffer," Uncle Obadiah added, as Aunt Evangeline collapsed into her chair,giving herself over to the dubious ministrations of Mme. Quinovoliot and Timony."Oh, nonsense, Obadiah," Mme. Fourniercut in.  "Look at her.  She doesn't care a whit for offers of money,clothes, or jewels.  The creature has no idea what has happened,that's clear enough for anyone to see!  Mydearest Giselle," she said, leaning across the table to take my hand.  She smiled sweetly and I swear her eyeswatered as though she were promising fields of daisies replete with gambollinglambs.  "Believe us when we say that notonly is Dr. Snow a good man, he is likely the only man who will offer for you now!""This is impossible!" I exclaimed.  "Pépé, explain how this is quiteimpossible!  Why, I have had severaloffers of marriage, and only three of those were from Maundy.  And…."I should have gone on to say…well, nowthat I come to think of it, I'm not quite sure what I should have said furtherin my defence, but Dr. Snow put all conversation to a halt, quietly clearinghis throat before remarking, "Perhaps if I might have a word with Mlle.Prîdieux alone for a moment?"Uncle Obadiah threw his arms up in theair, while Aunt Evangeline began another tirade about my willfulness, Pépé drownedhimself in his third glass of Lesseut and M. Fournier his second, Mme. Fourniermade encouraging noises rather like an anxious cat, Mme. Quinovoliot and Timonyapplied themselves more vigorously to their futile ministrations, and Andrews attemptedto resemble a piece of furniture—which he did quite well.More to escape their madness than toappease Dr. Snow, I agreed.He led me as far as the front hall,from whence I led him to the red parlour, reasoning that it had the fewestwindows and the most doors and best of all two separate couches.  Dr. Snow made no move to either sit or aid meto be seated, but strode purposefully enough into the room as though to takeits measure, turned his back to me while I struggled with the flint, and atlast declared when the room was only half-lit, "Well, I suppose this thingought to be done properly.""Dr. Snow!" I cried when once I turnedto see him kneeling before me.  "Dorise.  This is most impolitic.""I do apologise, Mlle. Prîdieux," hereplied, "however you must forgive me if I am not as graceful as your previoussuitors.  You have had the great fortune ofreceiving many proposals.  I, on thecontrary, am in the lamentable position of having never proposed at all.""Well," I declared, "you have begunmost stupidly.  Most gentlemen considerit prudent to speak to the lady prior to declaring their love.""But you misunderstand me, ReverendedMiss," he said, rising.  "I have notdeclared my love.  Nor do I intend todeclare my love.""Then," I said softly for—to rememberit even now, it strikes me like a blow, "then what are you asking?""For a loveless marriage?" he smiled,and drew me down to sit beside him.  "No,I am not so cruel.  Let us begin again, mademoiselle.  Have you a black silk handkerchief?"

ELSPETH [working title]

The hero of this (these?) novel(s) has been with me the longest.  He showed up one day when a story took over the one I was attempting to write, by the second paragraph.  Poityr vol Rev rescued Elspeth by climbing over rooftops when I was fifteen years old.  And he rescued me when, at seventeen, I spent a summer working at this miserable ice cream shop.  I'd volunteer to take out the trash...since it was at least outside.  I'd look up at the awnings and the flat building tops, and I'd imagine Poitry and Elspeth running hand in hand over them.

At any rate, Poityr is a brooder.  He's got the dark hair and light complexion to carry it off, and the right to carry it off, as well.  Nearly his entire family was destroyed in his native country, and he's traveling to a new life as a wanted man.  Like Theophilus, he's fiercely intellectual, but unlike Theophilus (who's just trying to live quietly without being killed), Poityr is an active revolutionary.  I'll admit there's a lot of Les Miserables in him.

Interestingly, every time I turn around, I find another actor who could play him: some we've mentioned already (Richard Armitage, although he's a little old now; Ioan Gruffudd, ditto), and others who are my go-to guys (Rufus Sewell, also too old but oh-so-pretty, Joaquin Phoenix and John Barrowman, same), or new gents (Ben Barnes springs again to mind).

But I think I'm going to have to go with Henry Cavill, for having the physical prowess, the pathos, and the panache to carry it off.  He doesn't seem to have a Dickensian film on his CV, so we'll go with this very pretty picture from his extraordinarily layered work on The Tudors.  You're welcome.


The following excerpt is from a little later in the original novel (I keep waffling between writing out the prequel, which is pretty much just all Poityr, or jumping into things from Elspeth's point of view).  Poityr has just returned from an unexpected and unpleasant visit with the anarchist, Kian, who's showing an unhealthy interest in the goings on of the revolutionaries in Gyve.  This novel takes place in the same world as The Sable Valentine, but in another country, where tensions are considerably higher.

Elspethhad kept vigil the whole night, waiting for her erstwhile tutor, ready toaccost him as soon as he walked in the door. Yet, although she had practiced her speech a million million times thatevening, words failed her as a familiar and unwelcome sight entered the mainhall. She regained herself quickly, though, and was on the point of rising whenMaster Muret turned towards her—and she saw wrinkles, brow, moustache, sideburns, evensallow skin fade into the young, smooth, angled face of Poityr.  His eyes were tired, and he seemed  at once glad and angry to see her."Elspeth,"he said before she had a chance to speak. He removed his hat and bowed.  Remembering her manners, she dropped a low curtsy, calculated to softenhis demeanour."Poityr,"she said."Youare awake well past your usual hour. Does something ail you?" He was unbuttoning his coat now, and she wentaround him to help him out of it."Iam well enough," she answered, handing him the garment.  He gestured to a cluster of chairs and shefollowed his direction, seating herself on a couch while he chose a soft highbacked chair to the side."Haveyou a question about the lesson I left you?" He asked.  "I assume you received it…""Yes,Tomas and Alec brought it to me.  But thereason they gave me as to your absence did not quite satisfy me."Poityrpassed one hand over his eyes and let out his breath.  "Is that why you waited for me?" Elspeth wasabout to protest but he cut her off with a little smile. "Well," he said.  "What did not satisfy your hungry curiosity?""Theysaid you were out on business.""Iwas.""Butthey did not specify what that business was."Poityrshrugged. "You have a vivid imagination, Elspeth.  I'm sure you could imagine many excitingadventures for me this night which would be much more interesting than thetruth.""Andwhat is the truth?""Noneof your concern." Poityr's tone was hard, but Elspeth would not be deterred."Myevery concern.""Ihad no idea you cared so much."Theodd mix of jest and urgency in his beautiful voice brought an unwanted blush toElspeth's cheeks.  "My continued existencedepends entirely on you," she said.  "Naturallyyour welfare interests me.""Well,I am glad that something other than study can intrigue you these days.""Ihave had little time for anything but study, considering the way you have beenpushing me so.""Areyou now blaming me for your discomfort? I have only tried to accommodate you," he said.  Elspethraised one eyebrow in silent accusation. Petercrushed his teeth together.  "Have I evertried to cajole you into disclosing what your father said to you?"  His strong hands kneaded the arms of hischair.  "No.  Not even when you refused to come to lessonsuntil three days after the event.  Not evenwhen you threw yourself into your studies. You wanted to forget the whole episode, so I gave you more work to keepyour mind off your father's words.  Youdistanced yourself from me, so I did not pursue you. And yet you wait for me lateinto the night…." Peterhad stood and paced during the course of his speech, like he often did duringhis lessons, and only now stopped to look at her.  She had not moved.  Her hands were folded neatly over her knees,her ankles were crossed demurely.  "Youconfuse me Elspeth," he said weakly."Wherewere you tonight.""Whyshould someone whose life is wrapped up somewhere inside her head be interestedin my goings on?""Wherewere you tonight."Peterturned away and walked toward the window. Elsepth allowed herself to look at him, and found her breath catching inher throat.  The conversation was not proceedingas it should have been."Wherewere you tonight, Peter?" she asked, softening her tone.Helaughed.  "Why?  Did you have need of me?"Elspethopened her mouth to say yes, yes she had, but she checked herself with thethought of her father's words, and the lateness of the hour, and the look onPoityr's face when he first came through the door.  "No,"she said finally, "I had no need of you this evening.  And I was foolish to demand the truth fromyou." She stood and curtsied, even though his back was still turned towardsher.  "Good night, Poityr," shesaid.  "I'm sorry to have kept you fromyour bed so long."Elsepthwaited a moment, perhaps expecting him to detain her, and when he didn't,asked: "Did you find what you were looking for?"Poityr only looked at her with eyes sunk deep in sockets, and said:"Youleft the candle burning."Andhe snuffed it.

 That's it for me!  Happy writing and happier surfing for pictures and descriptions of your heroes!

House of Strangeways: Voices of the Dead

Part Five, " Voices of the Dead " continues our serialized novel of The House of Strangeways available exclusively here on this blog!

To read the first four chapters, click here.  At the official site, you can also examine the library for clues , and explore the House of Strangeways for yourself!  New content is being added weekly, so keep checking back for more!

THIS WEEK: 

We learn more about our narrator, Miss Meadowlark's mysterious past, including an Hungarian aunt, the spiritualist and charlatan the Great Solandro, and a little more about the incorrigible Harry Potsdrain.  Also...
Will Jeremy Cavendish Mumm speak?  What is the significance of the brass feather Miss Meadowlark's father gave her?  And how do you react when your world is stolen from you?
All this and more are explored in this week's double-sized chapter of "Voices of the Dead."

And in case you missed it, check out all of the Free Fridays , including six chapters of Presumption, the forthcoming sequel to Pride and Prejudice that brings together Colonel Fitzwilliam and Maria Lucas.  The Presumption preview will be available for 30 days.

Enjoy!

Writing in Iambic Pentameter

Previously , I asked the question: Where are the "new Shakespearean" plays.  There appear to be three qualities at which he particularly excelled:

1) The Beauty of Verse
2) Paradoxical Orthodoxy
3) Content Dictating Form

Today, I'd like to look at the first quality: POETIC VERSE.

To learn about the basics of Shakespeare's verse, please scroll down just underneath this text.To see how to use Shakespeare's techniques in modern plays, please press "Read more" at the bottom of this post.
What follows is a basic primer, but if you've the time, here's the best masterclass , courtesy of  the RSC, Trevor Nunn, John Barton, and very young Patrick Stewart, Ian McKellan, and David Suchet!




Now, one of the first things any student of Shakespeare learns is about something called "respecting the verse."  Essentially this means that, when performing, one should be aware of the following things: 

1) Looking for, in general, five strong stresses. 

In a perfect iambic line, it sounds like "ba-DUM ba-DUM ba-DUM ba-DUM ba-DUM" such as "But SOFT! What LIGHT through YON-der WIN-dow BREAKS?"

However, sometimes a line might have a feminine ending, which is basically a syllable that drops off at the end, such as "To BE or NOT to BE  that IS the QUES-tion."

And often, Shakespeare varies the rhythm of a line altogether. "LET ME NOT to the MAR-riage OF true MINDS"  In this case, the first two words are part of a foot (series of stresses), called a "spondee."  You can read all about  the various types of metrical feet here .

Basically, when we're in perfect iambs, the character is in full possession of his or her faculties and temper, and when it goes into varying stresses, the character is in possession of some strong humour.

2) Be aware of metrical variations

Occasionally, Shakespeare includes a line which sort of cuts off in the middle.  For example, Hamlet in II.2 cries in the middle of his "Rogue and peasant slave" speech, "For Hecuba!" giving us only two strong beats...and leaving us without three.

This is a clue that the actor may want to take those extra beats before or after or some combination thereof to either allow for strong, non-verbal emotion, or to allow for movement.  The actor can also lengthen the sounds of the feet he has to make up the length of a single line...slow down the meter from quarter notes to half notes, as it were!  Actually, take a look at Hamlet's speech: it's punctuated by these short outbursts.  ( Scroll to bottom of link .)

Alternately, sometimes Shakespeare uses entirely different verse.  The witches in Macbeth IV.1 speak in iambic quatrameter, typically in rhyming couplets: 

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Similarly, the rude mechanicals from Midsummer Night's Dream, when they perform "Pyramus and Thisbe" in V.1 fall into two strong stresses with rhyming couplets all over the place:

But stay, O spite!
But mark, poor knight
What dreadful dole was here?
Eyes, do you see?
How can it be?
O dainty duck!  O dear!

By changing the meter, Shakespeare tells us something about the character.  Both of the above forms are much more like our own nursery rhymes or common limericks, rather than the graceful swoop and fall of a line in iambic pentameter.

However, reader beware: occasionally you can also tell that someone else stuck something in by checking the meter.  Hence, in Macbeth III.5 the character of Hecate shows up out of nowhere and berates the witches with:

Have I not reason, beldams as you are,
Saucy and overbold? How did you dare
To trade and traffic with Macbeth
In riddles and affairs of death;
And I, the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or show the glory of our art?

The first two lines are in iambic pentameter, and then falls into a meter we know well from "roses are red, violets are blue."  Moreover, the following lines all end very heavily and neatly (see below).  Frankly, the meter and the language are clunky; apprentice-level, which Shakespeare in the court of James I was assuredly not.

One final note: obviously, it's also important to note when a character slips into prose, since this heralds something about the prosaic nature of the scenes.  So Benedick and Beatrice quarrel in prose, and make love in poetry.  Rosalind and Celia banter in prose, then slip into verse when the Duke enters with full formality.

3) Catch your half-lines!

Shakespeare loves to divide a single line between two or more character.  For example, Kate and Petruchio in their wooing scene of The Taming of the Shrew in II.1:

KATHARINA 

Moved! in good time: let him that moved you hither
Remove you hence: I knew you at the first
You were a moveable.

PETRUCHIO

                                 Why, what's a moveable?

KATHARINA

A join'd-stool.

PETRUCHIO

                                  Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me.

KATHARINA

Asses are made to bear, and so are you.

PETRUCHIOWomen are made to bear, and so are you.

Here we have not only half lines which are thrown to one another...and need to stay in the rhythm of a single line, but also lines that are compliments to one another, whose speed of one sort of knocks into the speed of the other.  By "throwing the line" to your partner (something you do whether you line is short or not), you keep the energy of the scene alive through the verse.  You can see the effect of that in our version of Shrew below:





4) And most important, love your line endings.


What this means, is that the final word (or stress) of each line, should not be dropped.  You can lift your voice, or put an italic on the final word - I usually encourage my actors to "lean" on the word - while some say that taking a small breath after each line does the same thing.

In Shakespeare's earlier plays, he tends to stop a line heavily, in a natural place.  For example, in The Comedy of Errors, II.1, Luciana not only speaks with heavy line endings, but she also speaks in rhyming couplets. (See below.)

Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe.
There's nothing situate under heaven's eye
But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky:
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their males' subjects and at their controls:
Men, more divine, the masters of all these,
Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas,
Indued with intellectual sense and souls,
Of more preeminence than fish and fowls,
Are masters to their females, and their lords:
Then let your will attend on their accords.

 However, in later plays, Shakespeare puts line endings in places that look like they should be enjambed (that is, the speaker just runs over the line-break, respecting more the punctuation than the line ending).  Even these lines, however, benefit from giving some weight to the final word of each line, such as in I.2 of A Winter's Tale, when Leontes says:

Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd one!
Go, play, boy, play: thy mother plays, and I
Play too, but so disgraced a part, whose issue
Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour
Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play.  There have been,
Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now....

 Listen to this video to hear the difference between enjambing the verse, or respecting the line endings.

5) But don't neglect your rhyming couplet lines/Which tell us much about our poet's mind.

Forgive my near-rhyme there, but you get the idea.  While rhyming couplets are found in many places in Shakespeare - more often in his early work than his later - whenever he deploys a rhyming couplet at the end of a scene or within it, it hits the ear with a stronger sound.  Hence, it works well as an almost musical "button" on a scene, or on the conclusion of an argument.  Rhyming couplets are there better deployed with care when writing blank verse, since they stand out so much!
But how do we do use this knowledge to write "new" Shakespearean plays?

Well, I can only write about how I used this knowledge to write verse, but in basic, I'll go through the above five points and you can judge for yourself how I did.

1) Playing with stresses

I found, while writing Cupid and Psyche that the various characters favoured different metrical feet.  For example, while the iamb (ba-DUM) was still the measure of normality, the gods - especially Aphrodite - favoured trochees (BA-dum), and the silly mortals always fell into anapest (ba-da-DUM).
 
MOSTLY IAMBIC (III.1 Psyche's father, Thanos addresses the audience.)

This is a quiet moment between Cupid going mad with lust for Psyche and thus transforming into the beast who kills one-half of all the lovers, and the eventual "Rape of Psyche."  The insistent iambic pentameter (and alliteration) lull the audience into a little breathing space.

THANOS.                      So stilland silent hangs this ancient earth                                    Thatno wise man now dares to stir abroad,Lest he disturbthe slumber of the vengeful,Jealousgods.  A plague upon us have they cast,A subtle plague,to rid the world of men.Some say a god isangered, and others sayThe languid godsbut play their careless games.But I believe agod does grieve.... 
HEAVY TROCHEES (I.1 Aphrodite speaks to Psyche)

Here we're at the beginning of the play, where Aphrodite does not so much cajole as command.  Hence, many of her lines begin with a stress...and a few even end with a stress.

APHRODITE.                   Iwill curse you, Psyche.  Speak!  But one word,                                    Onedelicate phrase, one damning verb, one                                    Sound– a laugh, a cry, a curse, a plea – Speak!                                    Tellme why men love you, why they follow you                                    Withblushing breath; these finger-fumbled men.                                    Whydo they sigh and pine and suspire, when you                                    Havenot touched them, not spoken, nor yet glanced,                                    Notwounded one with a single, careless shot                                    Stolenfrom the blind-boy's bow.  Speak!                                    Whatis your power?  Mortal or divine?                                    Speak,Psyche.  As I am a goddess – Speak.

Similarly, when Aphrodite is in control, her trochee-speak infects Cupid's verse.  When he gains power, her language changes into iambic.  From IV.6:

CUPID. Mother!  Appear! I heard thee.  Show thyself.
APHRODITE. Rudesomeboy.  The light is very dim.
CUPID. Theblackness of my soul, dear mother.Ithought to test a stint into despair.Butsee, it suits me well.  Where hast thoubeen?
APRHODITE. ToHades' shore, there to find Adonis.
CUPID. 'Tisdark there, too.  Good mother, hast thoudied?
APHRODITE. No Charon cameto claim me, though I wore these rags.
CUPID. Themore the shame.  Didst thou Adonis find?
APHRODITE. Didst thouAdonis kill?
CUPID. I did.
APHRODITE. Oh.  I did not think thou wouldst confess it.
RHYMING ANAPEST (II.1 Chrysos, Psyche's brother-in-law, is infected with Cupid's touch)

The "four lovers" or mortals who provide both a mirror to Cupid's hidden emotions, as well as comic relief, tended to fall into anapest almost all the time (when they weren't speaking prose).  Since it's a bouncy rhythm, it allows for some fun scenes!  I'll embed the workshop production of this scene below.  It's been revised since, but you'll get the gist.

PSYCHE. Are you well?
(Chrysos who has been leaning or climbingon Cupid is cast off by the god ofLove, and reels.)CHRYSOS. Asudden heartburn.  'Twill pass.
PSYCHE. Here,let me attend you.  Let's go within.
Give me your hand, brother.  Rest on my arm.
CHRYSOS. On yourarm?  In thy bosom!  Heaving and warm!
SweetPsyche!  Dear sister!  O, Beauty divine!  
Thou art sweeterthan flowers and richer than wine!
One kiss, I begthee.  I am a man parched
For thy lips, forthy breasts, for thy…other parts.
Come sweet, letme have thee!
PSYCHE.                              Chrysos!  Forbear!
CHRYSOS. Forbear,love?  Wherefore?  Let's call to the airOuramorous passion!
PSYCHE.                     Oncemore, sir, forbear!Youare not yourself – Sir, think of your wife!
CHRYSOS. And nonethe dearer!  The love of my life!Butnothing to thee, sweet Psyche, dear saint!She'sbut a statue – cold marble and paint.Whilstthou hast a heart that cares not for goldButfor mine arms to enfondle and hold.
PSYCHE. Dearbrother, desist!  Indeed, I shall scream.
CHRYSOS. Then Iwill join thee!  And loudly declaimThesweet name of Psyche whom I love and adoreMore than goddessor god!  And shall love evermore!O Psyche!
PSYCHE. O God.






2) Metrical variations


I'm hoping eventually to conquer Molieresque rhyming couplets, but I haven't yet.  However, in Cupid and Psyche, I realized that Cupid when wooing Psyche, needed to change his tempo entirely.  I referred to his poem as "his aria" since it followed more a lyrical than a spoken verse rhythm.  I think, as well, by changing the meter so significantly, it made the section feel like a spoken song.  You can judge for yourself.


I.1 Cupid meets and woos Psyche for the first time. 
CUPID and PSYCHE.  Forgiveme.  I –
PSYCHE. Pray, speak.
CUPID. I am not accustomed –That is, I'm very sorry, I seem –How do they do it?  In books and in verse –If Iprofane with my unworthiest hand,Thisholy shrine, the gentle sin is this:
PSYCHE.                                             What?
CUPID. These blushing lips, twoblushing pilgrims –
PSYCHE.                                                          Please,stop.
CUPID. Why?  This is how loversspeak, is it not?
PSYCHE. I am not your lover.  Nor amlike to be.
CUPID. Then do not be yourself.  Puton your mindA mask of some lover with tender heartAnd look thou with another's eyes, that seeBeyond the mask of me.
PSYCHE.                     You wearno mask.
CUPID. I do indeed.
PSYCHE.                 I see it not.
CUPID.                                        Youdo not see.You look, you glance, but seeing?  No. But –
If thou couldst see with eyes like mineIf I could be thy glass;If thou wouldst wander through my mindAnd know my present past;If thou couldst open up thine eyesWith new eyes not thine own,Then thou wouldst see the truth of meAnd look on me alone.
If thou couldst see, as I do see,Thy beauty in compareWith ev'ry distant, dancing starThat bows before the grace thou artThou shouldst never call them fair.And I would pluck them from the sky –Yes, every one that shone –That no eye in Heaven, but mine eye,Should look on thee alone.
If thou couldst see, if thou wouldst look,If more myself thou knew beyond;If from my lips thine own lips tookThe name of he whose name is fond –Then wouldst thou quiver?  Wouldst thou quake?Or hide thee in the dark alone –Or wouldst thou with the dawn awakeAnd look, and love me as thine own.
(They kiss.)The above scene happens about 30 minutes in.






3) Half lines (shared between two characters)
Half lines also shown above, but I'll also show the first part of the first scene of To the Dark Tower Came, based on the " Childe Rowland " stories.  This was written for the Thornton Wilder Playlet Competition .  My play, which I grant was written overnight on the day of the deadline, managed to make the final three.  It has yet to be performed.

Admittedly, I lurve half-lines.  They electrify the verse.  One of the things that works here - these are the very first words spoken - is that it gives that sense of urgency and suspicion on a battlefield.

ROWLAND. Hail!  Who goes there?
DARK WOMAN.                             A friend.
ROWLAND.                                                             Showyourself, friend.                        Thereare many here: uncles, and other spies,                        Who would take the nameof "friend," then stab                        His friend within his side.  You wear a hood.
DARK WOMAN.                                                                 I do.
ROWLAND. Show yourself.
DARK WOMAN.                 I have.
ROWLAND.                                     Are you ugly, friend?
DARK WOMAN. There are those who do notfind my features…nice.
ROWLAND. Not I. Ugliness enthralls me.  Show yourself.                        Nay,come.  A glimpse. I promise not toscream.
4) Loving line endings!
I had line endings drilled into me while I studied Shakespeare in England, and I've found their importance invaluable.  I try to learn from Shakespeare and put line endings not only in heavy obvious places (e.g., at the end of a phrase or sentence), but also mid-sentence, as an indicator that there should be some pause or weight given to that part of the sentence.

The crucial thing - and this is where I take exception with the modern blank verse playwrights whom I've perused - is that a line of blank verse is approximately five STRESSES, not just ten syllables.  Now, I have my Emerson Shakespeare Ensemble to thank for clarifying this, and if you watch the masterclass linked above you'll learn about it yourself, but essentially, it's the difference between putting a line ending like so:

REGULAR LINE ENDINGS
(From Turn to Flesh, another short play about the death of Medusa.  It's had a reading in Boston, but not yet been produced.  First written with a line ending ON the tenth syllable.)

MEDUSA.     No.  No.  You'veturned my heart to flesh.  It beatsLike a cagèd bird againstmy breast, and                        'Minds mewhat I am. O turn me back to
Stone, avertyour eyes!  Look not on me, god-Ling.  Look not so loving on me!  You killMe with your look.  Be not so kind. [dangling foot]
This yields some interesting stresses.  "beats" and "kill" are good...but "and," "to," and "god-" hang there purposely.  Hence, I've broken up the line this way:
  
MEDUSA.     No.  No.  You'veturned my heart to flesh.It beats like a cagèd bird againstmy breast,                        And 'minds mewhat I am.
O turn me back to stone, avertyour eyes!Look not on me, godling.  Look not so loving on me!You kill me with your look.  Be not so kind.
Everything ends heavily, but hopefully that forces the actor to chop up all the sentences, as though gasping for breath while Medusa is in Perseus' hold.  Likewise, you'll notice metric inconsistencies.  In the first, I intended that the "No. No." would actually read as two separate feet - a spoken stress, an unspoken breath.  So it would sound like:

NO. (rest)  NO.  (rest) You've TURNED my HEART to FLESH.

I've also purposely left three empty feet after "And 'MINDS me WHAT i AM" so that the actress has a moment to look at herself in Perseus' shield and then burst out into the rest of the speech.

IRREGULAR LINE ENDINGS
Conversely, you can see a bit of To the Dark Tower Came with irregular or inter-sentence line endings.  I put an emphasis on "Childe" although it's not strictly necessary if one knows what to do with line endings.  But on the off-chance someone tends to enjamb no matter what, I put italics on it!

(ROWLAND, perhaps satisfied that the DARK LADY means him no harm, or else caught up with the vision of his lost sister, laughs and hands the DARK LADY a bandage which she wraps gently about his waist.)

ROWLAND. Would you believe I once was known as Childe                        Rowland?  No child I, now, who have seen                        Too many deaths, whohave been the cause                        Of far too many deaths,who have walked                        Each day with my pretty neighborDeath.                        I've courted her, eachday upon the battlefield,                        But she'll have none ofme!  Death avoids me, Lady,                        As I've avoided you.  I've brought her twelve bouquets                        Of severed limbs,wrapped with the guts of Saracens –                        But still she will nottake me to her bed!  The tease.                        Not so tight.

5) Rhyming coupletsAs I said, I'm not so great at these.  What I'd really LOVE to learn is how Moliere's verse trips along so merrily!  The best I've got right now is something like this from To the Dark Tower Came, when Childe Rowland wanders into a bunch of fawning social peacocks.


MATRON.     Myvery dear Rowland, how can you endure                        The fawning caresses ofsomeone like her?                        What you want is wisdom,one who knows why                        All of those terribleSpanish must die.                        You'll find mypolitics are impeccably liberal                        For those petty crimes some find unforgiveable.                        To me, the firstquestion must be and should:                        "Is the dreadful thingdone for the greater good?"                        Or barring a generalgood should come of it,                        I'm in favor of crimes that help turn a profit.                        I think you'll discover that we quickly agree                       That true good requires flexibility!
Not perfect, but you get the idea.
Next up, I'll talk about metaphors and why Shakespeare would run on with purple poesy!

Where Have All the Iambic Pentameter Plays Gone?

Someone was once asked who the greatest American playwright was.

He answered: Shakespeare.

Now, that answer may seem flip, but it's also got a lot of truth to it.  The brio of the Elizabethan stage very much mimics the rip-roaring-ness of the American spirit.  Shakespeare festivals abound in every corner of our nation, to the point where modern playwrights have blogged about how we need to stop doing Shakespeare and take a chance on new plays.

The question I'd like to pose to my fellow playwrights is: If the masses want Shakespeare, why aren't we writing new Shakespearean plays?

VERSE: The question then becomes: Well, what is this so-called "Shakespearean play?"  Is it merely a matter of writing in verse?  Because T. S. Eliot did that and only got so far.  (Although I think his Murder in the Cathedral is one of the most beautiful plays ever written, and I'm itching for the day I get to direct it in full.)  Moreover, there are all these Greek and Roman verse plays lying around...heck, there are Elizabethan iambic pentameter plays for the taking...that are performed considerably less than Shakespeare.  So it can't be just the verse.

WORLDVIEW: Is it the content or the worldview?  I think we may be onto something closer here. Shakespeare's plays are lusty and moral; as Chesterton might say, the "centre is central."  Because Shakespeare believes in an ordered world, he's free to explore disorder.  His view is entirely Catholic - both upper and lower case - but that sort of robust Catholicism that revels in the body (and the bawdy) with respect to the soul.  It's a worldview of contrasts, or more accurately, of paradoxes.  It's a worldview wherein heroes are always on the brink of damnation, and villains in danger of salvation.  It's got something of the serious child in it: fancies are taken as importantly as realities - and sometimes realities are best laughed at.  It's beautiful, too.  It's important that we remember the grounded beauty: "The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces/The solemn temples, the great globe itself...." ( Tempest 4.1 ).

A picture of Prospero surrounded by his sprites fromThe Tempest (November 2011)
CONTENT DICTATES FORM: Of course, one of the other things that must be taken into consideration is, as Sondheim puts it: "Content dictates form."  (He's not the only one who says it, but I love his book, Finishing the Hat so much, I'll credit Sondheim for explaining why content dictates form!)  That is, you can write anything in verse...but not every story wants to be written in verse.  Shakespeare's "common comedies" are almost entirely in prose - Benedick and Beatrice, Orlando and Rosalind - because they, as characters, do not speak in flights of spontaneous verse.  In fact, Shakespeare himself allows their changes into verse to herald a higher feeling within those characters: only love or nobility spring them into verse.  (Shakespeare only really wielded prose as a tool in his middle to late plays; his earliest are almost entirely in verse, revealing a young playwright first experimenting with form.)

MODERN VERSE PLAYS - A HUNT: So, what sort of modern verse plays can we find?

David Hyde Pierce & Mark Rylance, La Bete Moliere's Couplets: David Ives recently adapted Moliere's The Misanthrope in tripping, rhyming couplets, in The School for Lies .  Although he updated the jokes and fleshed out the plot, it's curious that the design team felt the need to put the actors in wigs and panniers - content dictates form.  Likewise, in David Hirson's La Bete - another Molieresque comedy - everyone lives somewhere in the time of the Louis XIV, hence the verse.  In fact, rhyming couplets seem to be the new darling among the stylists.

While these plays are not Elizabethan or Shakespearean blank verse, what they do have is both clever language, content that dictates the form, and most importantly, something both high and low, beautiful and base, jauntily paradoxical in its thought.  (Although it should be noted that the first production of La Bete failed miserably; perhaps due to a stodginess that the recent revival seems to have shed.)

Irregular Verse:  J.B. by Archibald MacLeish is a play in irregular verse; a modernization of the book of Job.  Gilgamesh has also been turned into an irregular verse play by the poet, Yusef Komunyakaa.  Andrew Chavez turned to a Neanderthal gravesite for his irregular verse play, Shanidar Cave , and again in Three Verse Plays: A New Romantic Use of an Old Romantic Format which appear to be modern stories with archetypical underpinnings. Philip Begho also used irregular verse in his award-winning, five-act play, Esther - based on one of my favourite Biblical heroines!

It's fairly easy to find irregular verse plays.  My own publisher, Playscripts.com has published quite a few, including Beowulf by Gabriel Dean (which is written in prose, but makes extensive use of verse), Cupid & Psyche by Joseph Fisher (all in irregular verse), and of course The Seussification of Romeo and Juliet by Peter Bloedel (which is in coupleted iambic quatrameter, combining the best of Seuss, Moliere, morality play meter, all with Shakespeare's best known play...no wonder this play is a hit!).

Irregular verse doesn't seem to play as well to the masses - possibly because it sounds like regular speech with more stilted language, possibly because English lends itself to iambs...who knows.  Once again, although all these plays require verse due to their content, and all three plays are based on epic stories which ought to combine the high and the low, and the silly and sublime, it looks like only Seussification and perhaps Cupid & Psyche has done well.

In fact, audiences seem to react better to silly in not-genius-level verse better than tragic in the same.   Perhaps that is our difficulty in finding the author of "new" Shakespeare plays.  Comedy will cover a multitude of metric sins; tragedy will reveal them.

Iambic Pentameter: But what about iambic pentameter?  I know there must be more, although I'm having trouble finding them.  A quick search of Amazon yields The Mother of God Visits Hell by Daniel Guyton, that bills itself as being in iambic pentameter; which as a morality play makes sense.  (Although I take issue with the fact that the author doesn't seem to get line endings, simply ending after ten syllables...nnngh...or Dostoyevsky's original vision worldview-wise.)  Stuart Spencer's play, Go to Ground , about fox hunting (nice to see a non-Biblical or epic subject!), appears to have the same difficulty as Guyton - that is, presuming ten syllables make five feet of verse.  Lucy Nordberg takes on King Arthur in iambic pentameter, using an old form to examine modern war (no sample found to sample the verse).  Crossword puzzle writer, Henry Rathvon, also went to Arthurian times for for his iambic pentameter farce, Trapezium , based on the myth of Tristan and Isolde.

From reviews (no sample available), Trapezium appears to be a comic farce ("Monty Python-esque") which may be why the reviews are generally favourable.  To me, King Arthur looks the most interesting, and promising (at least from production stills) in our quest to find someone who can "get" the tragic side of Shakespeare.  (Whether anything in King Arthur would make you laugh remains to be seen.  Macbeth is full of hilarious jokes...although Black Adder would disagree.)

You have to look back in time a bit to find better verse, such as Jane Alice Sargant's five-act Joan of Arc (1840) or Henry Copley Greene's Pontius Pilate (1871), or Attila, my Attila! (1896) by Michael Field (aka Katherine Bradley and Edith Cooper).  In fact, the 1800's seems to have been rife with iambic plays...which I've never heard of, or which don't seem to be produced much if at all.  One has to wonder why they did not resonate with the theatrical world, when a quick scan of their verse seems to show everything in promising shape.

Insert your face here!CURRENT VERDICT: Of all the plays mentioned, The School for Lies, and La Bete have performed well in New York City, helped immensely by excellent casts, directing, and all the fun that comes from rhyming couplets.  Likewise, The Seussification of Romeo and Juliet is performing gangbusters in the high-school arena...and is also in rhyming couplets.

As for modern iambic plays, "new" Shakespearean plays, I don't know that we've quite seen them yet.  Or seen them take off, at any rate!  And part of that may not be the content (as witnessed above, by and large those who've written the form have done so because of the content), but actually because...of the verse.

In my next post, I'll ruminate on what it means to write Shakespearean verse, which is more than just writing ten syllables at a time.  In the meantime, comment and let me know about an iambic pentameter or verse play that more people should know about!  I'd love to know.

SO...WHO IS THE NEXT SHAKESPEARE?  Well, maybe it could be you!

House of Strangeways: Beauty & the Beasts

Part Four, " Beauty and the Beasts " continues our serialized novel of The House of Strangeways available exclusively here on this blog!

To read the first four chapters, click here.

And make sure you keep checking out the House of Strangeways website to find clues to this Gothic mystery.  Look inside the library books (pop-ups must be enabled) to find what else the people of Strangeways are hiding in their walls.

Jane Austen Birthday Soiree

Happy birthday to Jane Austen!  Looking good at 236 years old!

Today, over thirty bloggers are celebrating Austen's birthday with a Soiree.  You can see all the blogs, and the presents you can enter to win just by commenting!   So blog hop and comment away!

Here at O Beauty Unattempted, we're giving two presents back to Jane.  After all, she gave us a refuge from a very bitter world, something beautiful and pure and worth striving after.  I think we can give her a little back.

Since she can't be here to accept them, I hope you will!
The first is a present for everybody: the first six chapters of Presumption, a sequel to Pride and Prejudice that matches the coming of age Maria Lucas with luckless in love Colonel Fitzwilliam.  (This story will be available for 30 days.  Read it here .)

Our usual Free Fridays will continue later tomorrow night with the House of Strangeways...now complete with a growing text-adventure game! Explore the house with Governess Sera Meadowlark, and discover clues, hidden scenes, and much more. (Updated weekly.)

The second is a book giveaway!  For those die-hard Austenites, here's a special treat: comment below and enter to win a free e-copy of Letters of Love & Deception , a collection of Austenesque short stories, that brings together all of your favorite heroes, heroines, foils, villains, and fools from Jane Austen's six novels.Happy birthday, dear Jane, and thank you for giving us such wonderful gifts!  God's blessings be with your soul, amen!

How to Write Your Own Jane Austen Novel

So, you want to write a Jane Austen novel?  But where to start?

My article, Deconstructing Jane is now available at Maria Grazia's blog, My Jane Austen Bookclub !  And lucky you...it comes with a giveaway just in time for Christmas of Letters of Love & Deception, a collection of Austenesque stories sure to please fans of all of her books.

In Deconstructing Jane, you will learn all about the:
Heroine (spunk a plus; strength a necessity)Hero (a man of upstanding and outstanding virtue)Foils (those who steal the hero away, and those who steal the audience)Clergy (from silly to serious, a must in any Austen novel)Military (often luckless in love, but happy to help!)Nobles (inadvertent assistants to Cupid's designs)And much more!
 
Maria recently joined us for the Teatime Ten , and was good enough to host me on her blog Talking Austen .  Maria, along with Katherine Cox, and over thirty other Austen bloggers, will be hosting a Jane Austen Birthday Soiree this Friday - I hope to see you there!

Jane Austen's 236 Years Young

Or, as Oscar Wilde might put it, there are some women who have remained 236 for years!

Yes, that's right mesdames et monsieurs, our own Jane Austen turns 236 years young this Friday - and to celebrate, O Beauty Unattempted! is joining other Austenites across the blogosphere in Jane Austen's Birthday Soiree.

Our Soiree hostesses are Maria Grazia of My Jane Austen Book Club and Katherine Cox of November Autumn.  You can hop around to each of the thirty-two blogs, each of whom will be giving a gift to you in honour of the birthday girl.

Here at O Beauty Unattempted! I'll be giving away a free e-copy of Letters of Love & Deception , a collection of Austenesque short stories, including characters from all of Austen's novels, perfect for any enthusiast!

Fridays are also Free Fridays here at O Beauty Unattempted!, which is currently chronicling the original Gothic novel, The House of Strangeways ...but there will also be an extra Austen ficlet surprise!  (Hey, you only turn 236 once!)

How do you enter to win any of the giveaways?  Easy!  Just comment on the Soiree posts!  A full lists of sites and presents is below.  See you Friday!

Soiree Participants and Presents
Katherine Cox
Blog: November's Autumn
Giveaway: one $10 B&N Gift-card (US only)Maria Grazia Read her Teatime Ten Interview
Blog: My Jane Austen Book Club
Giveaway: A selection of Austenesque readsEmily C. A. Snyder
Blog: O! Beauty Unattempted!
Giveaway: one copy of Letters of Love & Deception Jennifer Becton Read her Teatime Ten Interview
Blog: Jennifer W. Becton
Giveaway: one copy of the eBook of the Personages of Pride and Prejudice Collection, which contains Charlotte Collins, "Maria Lucas," and Caroline Bingley. Open internationally.Vera Nazarian Read her Teatime Ten Interview
Blog: Urban Girl Takes Vermont
Giveaway: a copy of Vera Nazarian's gift hardcover edition of her inspirational calendar and diary, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration Regina Jeffers Read her Teatime Ten Interview
Blog: ReginaJeffers's Blog
Giveaway: one signed copy of Christmas at PemberleyFarida Mestek Read Emily's Interview on Farida's Site
Blog: Regency stories set against the backdrop of Regency England
Giveaway: one copy of I was Jane Austen Best Friend, by Cora Harrison
Sharon Lathan
Blog: Sharon Lathan
Giveaway: one copy of Miss Darcy Falls in Love
Laurel Ann Nattress
Blog: Austenprose
Giveaway: one signed copy of Jane Austen Made Me Do ItC. Allyn Pierson
Blog: SemiTrue Stories
Giveaway: one copy of Mr. Darcy Little Sister (open internationally)Cindy Jones
Blog: First Draft
Giveaway: one signed copy of My Jane Austen Summer and a package of Lily Berry's Pink Rose Tea by Bingley's, Ltd.Marilyn Brant
Blog: Brant Flakes
Giveaway: A canvas ACCORDING TO JANE tote bag and a pair of A SUMMER IN EUROPE luggage tagsPrue Batten
Blog: Mesmered's Blog
Giveaway: one copy of Georgiana Darcy's Diary: Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice continued, Anna ElliottErin Blakemore
Blog:  The Heroine's Bookshelf
Giveaway: Pride and Prejudice notecards, by Potter StyleVVB
Blog: vvb32 reads
Giveaway: Jane Austen's Little Instruction Book (Charming Petites), by Jane Austen, edited by Sophia Bedford-Pierce, illustrated by Mullen & Katz, introduction by Barbara PauldingKaren Doornebos
Blog: The Fiction vs. Reality Smackdown
Giveaway: 2 Jane Austen candles and 2 signed copies of Definitely Not Mr. Darcy plus drink coasters and tea!Alyssa Goodnight
Blog: Alyssa Goodnight   
Giveaway: one Jane Austen Action figureDeb Barnum
Blog: Jane Austen in Vermont
Giveaway: 2012 calendars from the Wisconsin JASNA RegionLaura Hile, Susan Kaye, Pamela Aidan, and Barbara Cornthwaite
Blog: Jane Started It!
Giveaway: one copy of Young Master Darcy: A Lesson in Honour, by Pamela Aidan; one set of Frederick Wentworth, Captain (Books 1 and 2), by Susan Kaye; two copies of Mercy's Embrace: So Rough a Course (Book 1), by Laura Hile; one copy of George Kinghtley, Gentleman (Books 1 and 2), by Barbara CornthwaiteJuliet Archer
Blog: Choc Lit Authors' Corner
Giveaway: one copy each of Persuade Me and The Importance of Being EmmaJane Greensmith
Blog: Reading, Writing, Working, Playing
Giveaway: one copy each of Intimations of Austen, and Sense & Sensibility (Marvel Illustrated)Jenny Allworthy
Blog: The Jane Austen Film Club 
Giveaway: a copy of Northanger Abbey DVD starring Felicity Jones and JJ Feild (The winner will choose region 1 or 2 DVD)Sitio Jane Austen
Blog: El Salón de Té de Jane
Giveaway:  one copy of the Spanish edition of Sense and Sensibility and one copy of  DVD package with adaptations of Jane Austen. (It's only zone 2, but it's in Spanish and English ), and one copy of BBC's Emma with Romola Garai (Blue-ray)Kaitlin Saunders
Blog: Kaitlin Saunders
Giveaway: one copy of A Modern Day PersuasionBecky Rhodehouse
Blog: One Literature Nut
Giveaway: selection of Austenesque ReadsPatrice Sarath
Blog: Patrice Sarath
Giveaway: one copy of The Unexpected Miss BennetAdriana Zardini
Site: Jane Austen Brasil
Giveaway: DVD – Sense and Sensibility (1995) – English / Portuguese subtitlesJane Odiwe
Blog: Jane Austen Sequels 
Giveaway: one mug with one of Jane Odiwe's illustrations and one copy of Mr. Darcy's SecretCourtney Webb
Blog: Stiletto Storytime
Giveaway: one copy of Noble Satyr by Lucinda Brant (Regency Romance)Abigail Reynolds
Blog: Pemberley Variations
Giveaway: one signed copy of Mr. Darcy's Undoing Blog: AustenAuthors
Giveaway: one copy of Georgette Heyer's Regency World, by Jennifer Kloester

House of Strangeways: The Woman in the Walls (Pt. 4)

Part Four, " The Women in the Walls " continues our serialized novel of The House of Strangeways available exclusively here on this blog!

To read the first three chapters, click here.

And make sure you keep checking out the House of Strangeways website to find clues to this Gothic mystery.  Look inside the library books (pop-ups must be enabled) to find what else the people of Strangeways are hiding in their walls.

Macbeth: Character Descriptions

With auditions coming up next Monday & Tuesday ( see here for more information! ), I'm getting excited by our Macbeth on the boardwalk, dans le funfair, mit der sandcastles.

A common theme between both this and Tempest can be summed up from the Coldplay lyrics for "Viva la Vida:"

"And I discovered that 
My castles stand
Upon pillars of stone
And pillars of sand...."

Macbeth CharacterDescriptions
MACBETH.   (Male) Avery minor soldier at the outset, self-effacing, jocular, who becomes by acombination of pressure, fear, and ambition, more bloody.  It is important that he radiate a sense ofwarmth and kindness that draws the audience in, despite his increased monstrosity.  He should be always in danger of salvation—justbefore he rejects it.  In some ways, heis driven by a need to please and prove himself to others.
LADYMACBETH. (Female) A powerful andalluring woman, whose beauty lies not in her face, but in her fascination.  She is of better birth than Macbeth, andfeels the unevenness in their stations, and her present situation keenly.  Her marriage was a love match, but to aMachiavellian woman, who would sleep with Duncan to get Macbeth his firstadvancement (pre-show), and then ruthlessly urge Macbeth to kill to get thenext.  This production is particularlyinterested in her statement that she had a child, who seems not to exist.  Unless Lady Macbeth's tryst with Duncanproduced an heir…whom she disposed of while very young.  The death of children will prove her undoing.
DUNCAN.     (Male)The King is not necessarily an oldman, although he is older than the Macbeths, but he more perfectly resemblesthe rowdy boisterousness of Henry VIII, even in his later years.  He is lecherous, and has enjoyed an affairwith Lady Macbeth, for which he gives her husband advancements.  As a consequence, both Macbeths are indebted and resentful of him.
MALCOLM.  (Male) Theyoung prince, eldest child of Duncan.  Hehas reacted to his father's wantonness with an almost Puritanicalsanctity.  But once he is forced to flee,he takes on, Hamlet-like, the face of wantonness and excess, to look like a harmlessfool to others, and so to spare his life. After his father's death, there is the look of one who has grown up toofast.
DONALBAIN.(Female) A few years younger thanMalcolm, and in the full bloom of her youth, she is engaged to Mentieth.  The men in her life have all worked to keepher innocent of the ills of this world, or to make light of them, but when shereturns for war, she proves the true daughter of a war-like king.  (Thischaracter will take Siward's lines as Donalbain's.)
BANQUO.     (Male)In some ways, Banquo is Macbeth's doppelganger, his other self if he hadlet his conscience rule.  He has a child,but no wife (she died in childbirth), and the Macbeths are both friends andgodparents to his child, Fleance.  He isof a humble gentry that spans the way between dukes and common men, so that atfirst it was Macbeth's honour to be befriended by Banquo, and then his peerage,and now his usurping sovereign.  LikeMacbeth, we must see a real warmth from him, a deep and painful friendship.
FLEANCE.     (Maleor Female) Banquo's young child, about eleven years old or so, and full ofthat sort of careless innocence that kicks at beehives to see what willhappen.  The Macbeths are his secondparents, and he is especially fond of Lady Macbeth who has taken him under herwing as a surrogate for her own child. Later, Fleance is saved through the intervention of Mentieth, who bringsFleance disguised to Dunsinane, to tend on Lady Macbeth in her madness (taking the Gentlewoman's lines).
MACDUFF.  (Male)A bull of a man, this fellow is an army all in himself.  Second in rank only to the king, he isfiercely loyal to his motherland, even before the mother of his children.  His lineage may be as old or older than theking's own, and so firmly ensconced within his rights, he has noambitions.  There is great love beween heand his wife—very Catholic in its size, and in its dealings with the world,quite open.
LADYMACDUFF. (Female) Also from oldfamily, whose lineage crosses over many continents and many kings, her loyaltyto the idea of kings transcends who the king may be.  Protected by her birthright, she is one ofthose sturdy women who's accustomed to speaking her mind, as though the wholeworld were her child or her subject.  Herblind patriotism, and refusal to budge destroys herself and all her youngchildren, however.
MACDUFFCHILDREN. (Males and females) Theeldest, hopefully a boy, worships his father to the point of defending himagainst every accurate accusation.  Thenext eldest, a girl, is at that age when everything's a joke, especially anyonefoolish enough to be serious.  Ifpossible, another child, very young and innocent; the type who can makesandcastles for hours without saying a word. And a baby, played by a doll (notauditioned!).
ROSS.             (Female)The silly spinster aunt of the Macduffs. She is the type of woman who tries to be everyone's friend, playing allsides and pretending she's a peacemaker. Therefore, through her foolish simplicity, she becomes an unwittingpawn.  Only when her family is destroyeddoes she choose a side.  A coward, whorather than face a crisis, denies it.
LENNOX.      (Maleor female) A lord who enjoyed the excesses that Duncan's court allowed, andnow enjoys and encourages the excesses of Macbeth's court.  Like Ross, he is very willing to play bothsides of the field.  But where Ross doesso to stay unnoticed, Lennox does so to remain on top.  He is not ambitious, allowing others to takethe fall should things go sour.  At best,he may be called a ruthless survivor.
MENTIETH.  (Male)The fiancé of Donalbain, Mentieth is the son of a high lordling, perfectlyfit for the younger daughter of a king.  Heis fresh-faced and noble in every deeper sense, perfectly ready to go into waras he is to go into love.  However, wheneveryone flees after Duncan's death, he is trapped in Macbeth's service, wherehe plays the role of the obedient servant…even while undermining thetyrant.  It is he who takes the ThirdMurderer's lines, saving Fleance .  He willalso take Young Siward's lines at the end of the play, where poor Mentieth'sheroism will be paid with death at Macbeth's hands.
FIRSTWITCH. (Male or Female) Most often inthe guise of a beachcomber, a scavenger who lives off the hoity-toity noblemenwho come to picnic.  There is somethingof the seagull in 'em.  (Will also play the First Murderer andSeyton.)
SECONDWITCH. (Male or Female) A jack of alltrades, who now sells hot dogs, now ring-tosses, now nickelodeons, or plays thehurdy-gurdy; the keeper of the games.  (Will also play the Second Murderer and thePorter.)
THIRDWITCH. (Male or Female) A child or someonechild-like, the type who is amused by carousels.  (Maydouble as one of the many children needed!)