Rachael Eyre's Blog - Posts Tagged "literature"
Don't Restrict Our Kids' Reading
It's been a fraught weekend for British politics. As well as the repulsive right wing protest party UKIP cleaning up in the European elections, our Secretary for Education Michael Gove has decreed that the literature syllabus is "not English enough." With this in mind, stalwarts such as To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men (which Gove personally dislikes), The Color Purple and The Crucible are being banished from our children's reading list.
There are no words for what a monstrous imposition this is. Without these works, we're left with a hopelessly one sided curriculum bearing no relation to most kids' lives. I love Shakespeare, but the flat and uninspiring way it's taught in schools means many come away with the impression it's "boring". The satire of Austen still sparkles, but what window to the outside world does it provide?
By eliminating modern American books, they're
also getting rid of strong female characters, people of colour and thorny issues they can get their teeth into. We mustn't forget that in some cases, the books they study at school are the only books they will read. Can you blame them for not engaging with fiction when there's nothing for them to identify with?
Don't restrict our kids' reading, Mr Gove. They deserve better than that.
There are no words for what a monstrous imposition this is. Without these works, we're left with a hopelessly one sided curriculum bearing no relation to most kids' lives. I love Shakespeare, but the flat and uninspiring way it's taught in schools means many come away with the impression it's "boring". The satire of Austen still sparkles, but what window to the outside world does it provide?
By eliminating modern American books, they're
also getting rid of strong female characters, people of colour and thorny issues they can get their teeth into. We mustn't forget that in some cases, the books they study at school are the only books they will read. Can you blame them for not engaging with fiction when there's nothing for them to identify with?
Don't restrict our kids' reading, Mr Gove. They deserve better than that.
Mad About the Bard
Last week saw the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death, also his 52nd birthday (that must've put a dampener on proceedings). It highlighted the complex, contradictory relationship Brits have with the man from Stratford. The rest of the time we pretend his plays are outdated curios, enjoyed only by academics and luvvies - or (the real reason for people's dislike) the subject of impossible exam questions. But come the anniversary of his birth, we let our hair down and reflect on what has made him so durable, iconic and eminently quotable.
I bloody love Shakespeare. And I can tell you precisely how it began: getting my grubby mitts on a copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream aged ten. I can't say I understood all of it, but I loved the poetry and the situations. The fairies' custody dispute! The lovers' switcheroo! The mechanicals putting on their shambles of a play! (Shakespeare has always made me break out in exclamation marks).
This love didn't pall even once it was shoved under the microscope. I relished the gender bending of Twelfth Night, although I found the gulling of Malvolio barbarous. Romeo and Juliet was gorgeously written and accessible to teens, though a little emo for my taste. (I never forgave Romeo for killing Paris - a detail that's excised from most adaptations). I will always feel wretched about The Merchant of Venice, whatever modern, sensitive spin they choose to put on it. Defend the Bard all you like, but it was a blatant attempt to cash in after the success of anti Semitic plays like Marlowe's The Jew of Malta.
Which brings us to his other race relations play set in Venice, Othello. This is, to my mind, the pinnacle of Shakespeare's achievement. While past critics have denounced it as sordid, and hardly the stuff of tragedy, it's this smaller, more domestic sphere that makes it so good. Who hasn't doubted their partner's fidelity or placed their trust in the wrong person? And is there any fictional character more disturbing than Iago, a man so petty and evil he destroys lives on a series of pretexts? His plot is finally exposed by Emilia, his long-suffering wife. Brave, intelligent and a feminist centuries before the word was coined, she is the true heroine of this play.
Bearing in mind that Shakespeare's heroines would have been played by boy actors, they're a compelling, diverse bunch - arguably superior to many penned by male authors today. Think of Lady Macbeth, the original woman behind the man, or Cleopatra, who's much more than a queenly cougar. The "breeches" plot may have been done to death, but it allows various heroines to bond with their lovers in ways that would have been unthinkable otherwise.
True, his record isn't spotless. It's difficult to know what to make of The Taming of the Shrew, an early work that reads like straightforward domestic abuse to a twenty first century audience. And of course there's Titus Andronicus, a play so violent and depraved historians used to deny he had anything to do with it. Though even this schlocky horror show of rape, mutilation and cannibalism contains this gem:
Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother.
Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.
Zing!
The secret to Shakespeare's longevity - and why he stands up to repeat viewings and readings - is how open to interpretation he is. Is Hamlet genuinely mad or faking? Did Lear abuse his daughters? Is Prospero a benevolent magician or a despotic colonialist? Is Falstaff popping up in what's effectively a romcom (The Merry Wives of Windsor) a cheesy excuse to reuse a popular character or a stroke of meta genius? Can the Roman plays serve as commentary on contemporary politics?
Ignore the trendy teachers who say he's irrelevant, or the lunatic fringe who claim a glovemaker's son couldn't possibly write such wonderful plays. The jobbing actor, bisexual sonneteer and eventual gentleman was one of a kind. The canon would be far poorer without him.
I bloody love Shakespeare. And I can tell you precisely how it began: getting my grubby mitts on a copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream aged ten. I can't say I understood all of it, but I loved the poetry and the situations. The fairies' custody dispute! The lovers' switcheroo! The mechanicals putting on their shambles of a play! (Shakespeare has always made me break out in exclamation marks).
This love didn't pall even once it was shoved under the microscope. I relished the gender bending of Twelfth Night, although I found the gulling of Malvolio barbarous. Romeo and Juliet was gorgeously written and accessible to teens, though a little emo for my taste. (I never forgave Romeo for killing Paris - a detail that's excised from most adaptations). I will always feel wretched about The Merchant of Venice, whatever modern, sensitive spin they choose to put on it. Defend the Bard all you like, but it was a blatant attempt to cash in after the success of anti Semitic plays like Marlowe's The Jew of Malta.
Which brings us to his other race relations play set in Venice, Othello. This is, to my mind, the pinnacle of Shakespeare's achievement. While past critics have denounced it as sordid, and hardly the stuff of tragedy, it's this smaller, more domestic sphere that makes it so good. Who hasn't doubted their partner's fidelity or placed their trust in the wrong person? And is there any fictional character more disturbing than Iago, a man so petty and evil he destroys lives on a series of pretexts? His plot is finally exposed by Emilia, his long-suffering wife. Brave, intelligent and a feminist centuries before the word was coined, she is the true heroine of this play.
Bearing in mind that Shakespeare's heroines would have been played by boy actors, they're a compelling, diverse bunch - arguably superior to many penned by male authors today. Think of Lady Macbeth, the original woman behind the man, or Cleopatra, who's much more than a queenly cougar. The "breeches" plot may have been done to death, but it allows various heroines to bond with their lovers in ways that would have been unthinkable otherwise.
True, his record isn't spotless. It's difficult to know what to make of The Taming of the Shrew, an early work that reads like straightforward domestic abuse to a twenty first century audience. And of course there's Titus Andronicus, a play so violent and depraved historians used to deny he had anything to do with it. Though even this schlocky horror show of rape, mutilation and cannibalism contains this gem:
Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother.
Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.
Zing!
The secret to Shakespeare's longevity - and why he stands up to repeat viewings and readings - is how open to interpretation he is. Is Hamlet genuinely mad or faking? Did Lear abuse his daughters? Is Prospero a benevolent magician or a despotic colonialist? Is Falstaff popping up in what's effectively a romcom (The Merry Wives of Windsor) a cheesy excuse to reuse a popular character or a stroke of meta genius? Can the Roman plays serve as commentary on contemporary politics?
Ignore the trendy teachers who say he's irrelevant, or the lunatic fringe who claim a glovemaker's son couldn't possibly write such wonderful plays. The jobbing actor, bisexual sonneteer and eventual gentleman was one of a kind. The canon would be far poorer without him.
Sherlock Holmes's Strangest Cases
The news that Toby Jones will play an "iconic" villain in the next series of Sherlock has excited a great deal of comment. The Conan Doyle canon has a cornucopia of bad guys, unfairly overlooked due to the obsession with Professor Moriarty and Irene Adler. Begging the question: which stories will Gatiss and Moffat adapt for season 4?
Though we can't rule anything out, it almost certainly won't be one of these ...
Silver Blaze
The eponymous horse is the most sympathetic murderer in the series, acting in self defence against his scummy trainer. Although this tale of race fixing and corruption is as topical now as on publication, it's hard to imagine Cumberbatch making the big reveal with a straight face. A pity - as well as being one of the best adventures, it coined the phrase "the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime," where the fact a dog didn't raise the alarm holds the clue to the mystery.
The Yellow Face
Although liberal for its day, this story of race relations hasn't worn well, coming across as patronising and - dare we say it - racist. It's bad enough that Elsie feels the need to disguise her little girl with a mask (the 'yellow face' of the title), but the assertion her late husband was remarkably handsome and intelligent despite his colour, and Grant Monro's hesitation over whether or not he can accept a black stepchild, won't fly with a twenty first century audience.
The Three Gables
Oh, Sir Arthur. The good intentions of The Yellow Face are severely undermined by this, the most problematic story of the sixty. The portrayal of thuggish black boxer Steve Dixie is cringe making; the Great Detective's naked prejudice, abusing Dixie's smell and 'woolly head', even worse. The villain is a femme fatale called Isadora Klein - is he commenting on her heritage as well? Best avoided.
The Creeping Man
A dirty old git and quack science result in this, the oddest story Conan Doyle concocted. Professor Presbury worries he'll disappoint his considerably younger fiancée, so starts taking a rejuvenating drug. Which causes him to develop monkey like characteristics. Oh, dear.
The Illustrious Client
At times Holmes doubled as an agony aunt, helping clients with messes they could have easily solved themselves. One such case was preventing the marriage of Violet de Merville to Baron Gruner, seducer, murderer and general bad lot. The whole thing plays like a telenovela. It opens with the boys chilling down the Turkish bath (slash fics ahoy!), takes in the Baron's playbook and culminates in his Cockney ex flinging acid in his face. Lovely!
Honourable mentions
A consummate tease, Watson tantalises us with cases he never makes public. Who wouldn't want to see the giant rat of Sumatra or Ricoletti of the club foot, abominable wife in tow? Perhaps the most evocative of these glimpses is "the politician, the lighthouse and the trained cormorant -" we demand to know more!
Though we can't rule anything out, it almost certainly won't be one of these ...
Silver Blaze
The eponymous horse is the most sympathetic murderer in the series, acting in self defence against his scummy trainer. Although this tale of race fixing and corruption is as topical now as on publication, it's hard to imagine Cumberbatch making the big reveal with a straight face. A pity - as well as being one of the best adventures, it coined the phrase "the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime," where the fact a dog didn't raise the alarm holds the clue to the mystery.
The Yellow Face
Although liberal for its day, this story of race relations hasn't worn well, coming across as patronising and - dare we say it - racist. It's bad enough that Elsie feels the need to disguise her little girl with a mask (the 'yellow face' of the title), but the assertion her late husband was remarkably handsome and intelligent despite his colour, and Grant Monro's hesitation over whether or not he can accept a black stepchild, won't fly with a twenty first century audience.
The Three Gables
Oh, Sir Arthur. The good intentions of The Yellow Face are severely undermined by this, the most problematic story of the sixty. The portrayal of thuggish black boxer Steve Dixie is cringe making; the Great Detective's naked prejudice, abusing Dixie's smell and 'woolly head', even worse. The villain is a femme fatale called Isadora Klein - is he commenting on her heritage as well? Best avoided.
The Creeping Man
A dirty old git and quack science result in this, the oddest story Conan Doyle concocted. Professor Presbury worries he'll disappoint his considerably younger fiancée, so starts taking a rejuvenating drug. Which causes him to develop monkey like characteristics. Oh, dear.
The Illustrious Client
At times Holmes doubled as an agony aunt, helping clients with messes they could have easily solved themselves. One such case was preventing the marriage of Violet de Merville to Baron Gruner, seducer, murderer and general bad lot. The whole thing plays like a telenovela. It opens with the boys chilling down the Turkish bath (slash fics ahoy!), takes in the Baron's playbook and culminates in his Cockney ex flinging acid in his face. Lovely!
Honourable mentions
A consummate tease, Watson tantalises us with cases he never makes public. Who wouldn't want to see the giant rat of Sumatra or Ricoletti of the club foot, abominable wife in tow? Perhaps the most evocative of these glimpses is "the politician, the lighthouse and the trained cormorant -" we demand to know more!
