Benjamin Jonson (1572-1637) was a Renaissance dramatist, poet and actor, known best for his satirical plays and lyric poems. He had a knack for absurdity and hypocrisy, a trait that made him immensely popular in the 17th century Renaissance period. However, his reputation diminished somewhat in the Romantic era, when he began to be unfairly compared to Shakespeare. The Theatre in London had had been denied to "The Admiral's Men" in 1597, but the troupe regained control of it sometime between 1608 and 1610 and "The Alchemist" was among the first plays chosen to be performed there. The comedy transported a classical drama into contemporary London, resulting in a fully modernized depiction of human folly, vice and foolishness. The Alchemist is generally considered one of Jonson's most vivid and characteristic works, and was recognized by Samuel Taylor Coleridge as one of the three most perfect plots in literature. It remains one of Jonson's most revived plays.
Benjamin Jonson was an English Renaissance dramatist, poet and actor. A contemporary of William Shakespeare, he is best known for his satirical plays, particularly Volpone, The Alchemist, and Bartholomew Fair, which are considered his best, and his lyric poems. A man of vast reading and a seemingly insatiable appetite for controversy, Jonson had an unparalleled breadth of influence on Jacobean and Caroline playwrights and poets. A house in Dulwich College is named after him.
So, The Alchemist by Ben Jonson is definitely a wild ride. It’s a classic comedy that really makes you think about human greed, deception, and how easily people can get played when they’re chasing something they want — like money and status. The story is about a con artist named Subtle, who acts like an alchemist and promises to turn base metals into gold, but really, he’s just taking advantage of people’s gullibility. Along with his partners Face and Dol, they scam anyone who’s desperate enough to believe in their fake powers.
Themes:
~ Greed and Deception: The play shows how greed blinds people to logic, making them easy targets for manipulation.
~Satire on Wealth: Jonson critiques society's obsession with material gain, exposing the absurdity in chasing unattainable desires.
~Dark Humor: The humor cuts deep, reflecting the absurdity of human nature and the consequences of unchecked ambition.
~Illusion of Control: Characters believe they control their fate, but they’re manipulated by their desires, exposing the illusion of control.
The humor in this play is pretty savage. Jonson doesn't hold back in making fun of human stupidity, and he does it in such a clever way. Every character seems to be more ridiculous than the last, which makes it even more entertaining. The way the dialogue is written is so sharp and fast-paced that it really pulls you into the chaos. It’s a mix of slapstick and dark humor that keeps you hooked.
What really struck me about The Alchemist was how relevant it still feels today. Even though it was written centuries ago, the greed, the desperation for wealth, and the willingness to ignore reason in pursuit of material gain is something that’s still happening around us. We still see people getting scammed because they want to believe in something that seems too good to be true. It’s kind of a wake-up call about how easily we can be manipulated when we're too focused on what we want.
Subtle, Face, and Dol are all such memorable characters. They’re not just funny; they also embody this sense of manipulation and opportunism that runs through the entire play. They’re funny because they’re so bad, but they also represent a certain type of person we all know — those who thrive on fooling others for their own gain. The play is full of these types of people, and it makes you reflect on how easily we let our desires cloud our judgment.
~Rating: 3/5 stars:
The Alchemist is a decent read, with some clever humor and insightful social commentary. It has its highs, but I didn’t find it as captivating as I’d hoped. While it’s worth reading for its historical significance and sharp wit.
Ben Jonson truly is a writer for our time, even if no one much reads or stages these plays anymore. Why would we?—we’re busy acting them out unwittingly.
No Shakespearean romance here. Many of the trusted ingredients, sure: word-drunk whimsy; pranks, pratfalls, and punning; whole hosts of schemers, fools, lovers and marks. But Shakespeare loved his heroes (and his antiheroes). Shakespeare’s plays have so much heart—however dark, however silly, however thorny, to read Shakespeare is to feel a great love—a great love for human beings.
The inimitable 20th century musician Brian Wilson described his goal as an artist, once, as: “To bring some love to people, spiritual love, you know? We wanted people to be covered with love, because there’s no guarantee that somebody will wake up in the morning with any love. It goes away, like a bad dream, it disappears.” To bring love to people—this is something great art can do.
Or not. Ben Jonson has no interest in love, spiritual or otherwise. His plays are vinegar in a wine bottle. Frankly, they’re mean.
And we live in mean times. A time of quack alchemists and vainglorious conmen—of “rogues, cozeners, imposters, bawds.” Forget Julius Caesar, this is the play that should have been put on in Central Park with a Donald Trump lookalike in the lead. This story of a “chemical cozener” and his “captain pander,” and all the fools they took in—“ladies and gentlewoman, citizens’ wives, and knights in coaches ... oyster women, sailors wives, tobacco men,” not to mention pastors and deacons—and all of them willing, nay, eager, to trade all their earthly possessions for “some twelve thousand acres of fairy land.”
The play must be read as quickly as possible! Avoid annotations. No footnote is worth the loss of momentum—half the play is nonsense anyway, that’s the whole point! But Jonson, too, was a wizard in his way.
I didn't expect to be able to give The Alchemist a rating above one star, as I didn't know that there was an exquisite alternative version, a prequel so to say, written several centuries before the rubbish novel, in 1610, showing the reverse development of human intelligence and wit from then until the arrival of Coelho, when sheepish worship of empty words and stupid comparisons became popular. The omens however are provided (much to my disturbance) in the earlier text already, for in the initial dialogue of Benson's play I read:
"Oh, let the wild sheep loose!"
How did he know?
He is a wise man, that Ben Jonson, and addresses his audience as follows:
"Fortune, that favours fools, these two short hours We wish away, both for your sake and ours, Judging spectators; and desire in place To the author justice, to ourselves but grace. Our scene is London, 'cause we would make known No country's mirth is better than our own."
Fortune that favours fools let the whole universe conspire to make this spectacularly funny play remain almost unread while one fool of our times wrote another Alchemist to let the wild sheep enthusiastically loose on it.
Jonson also prematurely explains some rather bizarre developments in the world in the doomsday-like year of 2016 with this simple acknowledgement of human character:
"I speak not this out of a hope to do good on any man against his will, for I know, if it were put to the question of theirs and mine, the worse would find more suffrages, because the most favour common errors!"
If this is not enough to make you want to read the real Alchemist, let me tell you that it is full of old-fashioned English indecencies. It actually made me blush to look up some of them in the dictionary. And, as icing on the cake, it contains an introductory argument in the form of an acrostic poem.
T H E A L C H E M I S Till it, and they, and all in fume are gone.
What happens before that, you will have to find out for yourselves, because I actually, unbelievably, truly, really, without sarcasm, sheepishly, somewhat surprisedly, recommend you to read : THE ALCHEMIST!
The general gist of this play among commentators on Goodreads is that much of the humour is dated which is why they don't think the play works all that well. It is not so much that people seem to hate the play, but rather feel that the content belongs to the past. That, and the fact that Johnson is overshadowed by Shakespeare, though I would suggest that Johnson wrote in the generation after Shakespeare, meaning that while he was a contemporary, it seems that his career is mostly post-Shakespeare, and Johnson probably wrote up to the time when the Puritans closed down all of the theatres in England. In any case it is always going to be difficult to write plays that last when you are up against a behemoth like Shakespeare, since Shakespeare was always going to attract most of the attention, and most of your work is going to be left to those who what to explore the literature that existed around his time (much like me). In a way it is sort of like competing with a reviewer like Manny on Goodreads, who has such a huge following that pretty much the rest of us pail in comparison.
What attracted me to this play though was that it seemed to deal with ordinary people. Okay, Shakespeare had ordinary people in his plays as well, such as the soldiers in Henry V and Falstaff and company in the two Henry IV plays. However, the main focus of his plays tended to be on the princes and kings (with maybe the exception of Henry IV where Prince Harry spends a lot of time mingling with the commoners). I remember one of the things that came out of history when I was in university was that there was the development of an interest in the lives of the commoners. In a way, history was moving away from being little more than dates and dead people, and beginning to be a sociological examination of the lives of people at the time. For instance I remember that in high school and university, the lecturer would give us a lecture on the common feudal village that existed at the time. However, with me, being young, impressionable, and into Dungeons and Dragons, when I did history all I wanted to learn about wars and heroes, not about how peasant kids would be beaten by their fathers in the paddock so that they would know where to grow their crops.
However, as I grew up I come to understand that there is more to history than simply heroes and wars, and that the voice and life of the common people are actually quite silent. This changes as more people became literate and the ability to write developed, however back in Shakespeare's time the little people, namely the illiterate ones, would simply remain hidden from our eyes, and when they appeared, they would appear as the laughing stock, the comic relief, and the foil in the plans of the hero. We see this in Henry IV and we see this here, where the actual lives of the commoners are hidden behind a farcial display of comedy and tomfoolery.
The other thing that I wish to raise with regards to this play is that question of making mockery of alchemy. The idea behind alchemy may be dated, but the idea of mocking it is not. Take for instance these guys:
Okay, this may not necessarily be what we have in the Alchemist (particularly since those guys are not a bunch of commoners that are trying to make money off of conning people into thinking that they can cure diseases and turn lead into gold) but it does show how playwrights and producers bring science, and even psuedo-science, into the world of comedy. In fact, much of what those guys (Sheldon et al) are studying could actually be considered psuedo-science since much of it is based upon mathematical assumptions and hypothesis, and in many cases these theories are little more than educated guesses. For instance, Einstein's theory of relativity is actually still just that, a theory (I was going to retract this statement based on a couple of comments below but, since I rarely actually delete comments, I decided to keep it, but also not because I think Einstein was wrong - he is far, far, far smarter than I will ever be, but more because sometime in the future somebody could possibly prove him wrong and a theory that supercedes his).
I was also fortunate enough to see a performance of this play when I was in London last year, and have finally gotten around to writing a blog post on it.
Ben Jonson is the Martin Amis of early 17th century English theater. His prose is bloated with dense analogies and shows of learnedness that jarringly contrast with a preoccupation for criminal lowlifes and jokes about bodily secretions of both the sexy and non-sexy persuasions. Jonson also has a knack for ornamenting his rogue gallery of ne’er-do-wells with handles such as Doll Common, Subtle, Face, Dapper, Tribulation and Epicure Mammon. And, like Amis, unrelenting farce is pickled in picric satire. Not to be confused with Coelho’s novel of New Age nonsense, Jonson’s The Alchemist is a savage laugh at the exact same kind of self-help fraudulence that hacks (like the aforementioned Brazilian author) and crooks peddle to the greedy, ignorant masses in an unending cycle of disappointment and disaster. Groaners and moaners about the difficulty of Shakespearian verse may want to skulk off to parts elsewhere; even for an old hand at early Modern English, such as myself, I was very thankful for the copious footnotes that helped me puzzle my way through the punches of puns (huzzah for collective nouns!) that regurgitate out of esoteric references to alchemic processes. Effort on a good-natured reader’s part does pay off— the juggling-on-a-tight-rope comedic plot takes an unexpected swerve (another Amis hallmark) in the last few lines of verse that makes this play a finger-in-your-eye to classical English theater conventions as well as damning statement about the integrity (read “lack thereof”) of our fellow children of God.
A servant, a thief, and a whore walk into a bar......and that's essentially how this rollicking good comedy from Elizabethan England gets started. The servant's master has gone out of town for a few months to escape the plague, and so the servant goes to a local establishment, finds a local troublemaker and prostitute, and convinces them to set up camp with him in his master's house, pretend to be an alchemist and his assistants, and rip people off. It's a brilliant plan, and relies, of course, on the gullibility and greed of the "customers" who are ready to pay anything for the power to control life and death itself. The play begins with the two men arguing over who is more crucial to the success of the scam and should therefore take more of the spoils. Before long, there's a knock at the door. Another customer! It's the knight, who has been promised the ability to turn all metals into gold! How will they get his money without delivering the goods? Quick, you go put on your costume! You, go get the door! And the play goes on from there.
What a relief to read an Elizabethan comedy that isn't about romance or courtship for once. All props to Shakespeare, naturally, but The Alchemist feels very different from Shakespearean comedy, and I found it refreshing for that reason. This play is not about love or feelings at all. It is the opposite of sentimental. It's about a wonderful scam, and the idiocy of the scammed, and the cleverness of the scammers. The play follows the various lies and schemes cooked up by the three crooks, taking time to reveal the strains building in their own relationship as well as the twisted motivations and desires of the customers who stop by. The trio promises one thing to one person, then another thing to another person, and as happens in any good comedy, the lies begin to collide, contradict each other, and reveal holes in their false identities, and the whole thing threatens at every moment to blow up in their faces. Some of the customers begin to get suspicious. Some begin to suspect the existence of the others. If they meet and trade information, all is lost. Two of the trio conspire together to betray the third, while a different pair in the trio conspire together to betray a different third. You can be sure that, by the last act, all the customers have started banging at the door one after the other demanding explanations, and the way the servant, who has played both his customers and his partners like a fiddle, spontaneously juggles and steers his way through these lies with everybody present in the same room is really quite astonishing. And does the master suddenly come home in the middle of all of this, ahead of schedule, right into the middle of a heated argument between his servant and a bunch of strangers demanding their money back? I'll leave that for you to discover.
This play is great fun. Like any piece from the period, it requires time and effort to get through, but get yourself a well-annotated copy (Penguin or Oxford will do), and you'll find an old play worthy of the best con-artist farces and satires of the present day. Everyone gets made fun of - knights, priests, alchemists, lords, thieves, idiots, the whole shebang. The pace is quick, the dialogue is witty, the characters are sufficiently well-drawn and ridiculous, and it's one of the best plays of Elizabethan England not written by Shakespeare.
بنجامین (بن) جانسن (1637- 1572)، بیشتر بخاطر کمدی هایش مشهور است، به ویژه "ولپن"، "کیمیاگر" و "رابطه ی بارتولومی". نوشته اند که کیمیاگر 1610، یکی از سه نمایش نامه ی کمدی تاریخ است که از داستانی محکم و گفتگوهایی بی عیب برخوردار است. شیوع یک طاعون در لندن سبب می شود تا "آقای لاوویت" خانه و زندگی اش را به پیشخدمت همه کاره اش "جرمی" بسپارد و خود موقتن به حومه ی شهر برود. جرمی که از پس ارباب، "کاپتین فیس" می شود، از غیبت ارباب استفاده می کند و به یاری دوستانش "سابتل" و "دال" (یک فاحشه) خانه را به دفتر کلاهبرداری های خود تبدیل می کنند. یک مشتری را که طالب برد در قمار است، به "ملکه ی پریان" وصل می کنند. دومی را که طالب شغلی نان و آبدار است، به نجیب زاده ی ثروتمندی که برای درخواست دیگری مراجعه کرده، وصل می کنند. یکی به "سنگ فلسفه" محتاج است تا برایش ثروت و غنای روحی بیاورد چرا که شنیده این سنگ، هر فلزی را به طلا تبدیل می کند. به یکی تلقین می کنند که "دال" (فاحشه) خواهر یک "لرد" که به جنون مبتلا شده و همه ی دارایی اش به خواهرش رسیده. خبر می رسد که بیوه ی ثروتمندی (سرکار علیه پلیانت) همراه برادرش به شهر آمده. آنها تحریک می شوند تا بیوه را به دام اندازند. برادر از آنها می خواهد تا برای خواهرش جفتی جور کنند... رفت و آمد پیاپی مشتریان رنگارنگ و برخورد هریک از آنها با دیگری، وصل کردن وقایع و اشخاص به یکدیگر و اتفاقات پیاپی و تعلیق های مداوم، تداخل اتفاقات و موقعیت ها و بر ملا شدن واقعیت کلاهبرداران، تماشاگر درگیر در وقایع نفس گیر را چنان از خود بیخود می کند که وقتی "دال" وارد می شود و خبر بازگشت آقای لاوویت، صاحب خانه را می دهد، همه به سرعت خود را جمع و جور می کنند تا برای آنچه گذشته، توجیهی بتراشند. کاپتین فیس که دوباره "جرمی" شده، به ارباب می گوید که در تمام این مدت بخاطر طاعون، در خانه را بسته بوده است. با وجودی که لاوویت از همسایه ها شنیده که در غیبت او چه گذشته، با مراجعه ی یکایک مشتری ها جرمی رسوا می شود. او به ارباب قول می دهد که اگر او را ببخشد، بیوه ی ثروتمندی را می شناسد ... در انتها لاوویت دستمزد جرمی را می پردازد و کاپتین فیس از تماشاگران معذرت می خواهد.
A wench is a rare bait, with which a man No sooner's taken, but he straight firks mad.
Funny that firk, it means many things: to both expel and to fuck as well as become or carry. I felt only the fervor of the former in my experience with brother Ben Jonson. Anthony Vacca has noted here on GR that Jonson was the Marty Amis of the Elizabethan underbelly. That might just be correct. It didn't help my flailing. Such wasn't pretty or becoming.
Funny and engaging, The Alchemist is almost like a play within a play, another theatre on a theatre stage. Somehow I keep thinking of The Master and Margarita when reading this.
The scammer trio of Face, Subtle, and Dol - "fearsome threesome" in the words of Shmoop - are great fun to witness in their shenanigans, but also amazing satire. Their alchemy brewing false gold scammed people of money and hope. It's then truly ironic when . In the end, nothing has changed.
With the fourth-wall-breaking ending, the line between drama and reality is blurred. This lively world of Jonson's The Alchemist is a stage in itself, reflecting what he saw in his time. Perhaps he wished to remind the reader/audience that our world is too a theatre, with its own farces and comedy.
Isn't it weird how Shakespeare is the only pre-1800s Western European playwright most of us read? In the *mumble mumble* years since high school, I've probably read or attended performances of roughly a dozen plays by the Bard. (Apparently it took 100 monkeys typing non-stop for 400 years or something to produce all those plays. I need to hire some of them to write for me, too.) What about all those other playwrights working around the same time--bunch of hacks, right? Not worth our time.
Poor Ben Jonson. I've now read his play The Alchemist, and the man can write. But I take issue when people say things "yeah, but he's no Shakespeare." Because what does that mean? The comedic timing, pacing, rising stakes, and witty dialogue are all top notch. So why is Ben Jonson "no Shakespeare?" Well, what does The Alchemist have--that Shakespeare plays do not? How about a contemporary, Elizabethan London setting, and a focus on low-class, conniving characters. Oh, and the scenes never move to anything more more poetical and romantic than poor Lovewit's temporary House of Vice. I can't help but imagine some ghostly Will chuckling to himself, saying "oh Ben, if only you had set more plays in Rennaissance Italy, and excised the words "faeces" and "fart" from your scripts, then maybe 20th century teenagers would have had you foisted on them, too!" (but in more flowery language than that, obviously.)
Perhaps this sounds like I'm making fun of The Alchemist, but I'm not. It's tight, it moves quickly, and I laughed much more heartily than at any of Shakespeare's comedies (with the possible exception of Midsummer Night's Dream, Will's comedies run together in my head). The colorful characters are ludicrous, devious, gullible and sweet in turn, the plot is twisty, the prose full of hilarious double entendre that you soon stop doubting whether "that whole scallop kissing thing meant what I think it did" because, yes Virginia, it did. Maybe it's difficult to follow at first, especially with the archaic turns of phrase, but it all feels true to its era. In fact, I can't help but wonder if there was some Victorian-era conspiracy to bury any old plays that they deemed not classy enough to be viewed by delicate 19th century ladies. So clutch your pearls tight and get thee a copy of this play. And let me know if there are any live performances in the works.
Ben Jonson is a great writer who's only mistake must be to have been born at the same time as the great Shakespeare. Full of satire and sexual innuendos, The Alchemist narrates the tale of two rogues, one the alchemist who promises people to turn all their items to gold and the other his helper. Matched with a prostitute who fools around with them it makes a comic tale of lust and greed.
A huge waste of time. I read Volpone and thought it was great, it was funny had interesting characters etc. Then I read this one. It is almost the exact same plot as Volpone, with almost the exact same characters, only that they characters are conning people in a different way. The big problem is that so much of it's humor involve spoofing the science of alchemy which needs a great many footnotes to explain, (and remember jokes aren't funny if they need to be explained). Okay, imagine someone decided to write a parody of Scientology and they read it 400 years in the future, would it be funny, probably not. That is the problem with the Alchemist, also his scenes go on to long and he doesn't seem to know when to end a joke. Seriously, if you want to read a Ben Johnson play, read Volpone, it is way better and still holds up.
This was an interesting play, mostly because Jonson is a contemporary of Shakespeare who has been pretty much overshadowed by him. He's no Shakespeare, but it was interesting. This is basically a farce about servants overtaking the house of a Lord who is away. They pretend to be alchemists, promising to turn metal into gold and all of these Londoners coming to them hoping to have all of their dreams come true.
Less accessible than most Elizabethan plays, but worth the effort. The ending is especially fun. I would really like to see it performed. And soon-- before I forget all the explanations from the footnotes. Parts of it remind me of various diets and cures being sold today. Also, the prologue's reference to "manners" being called "humours" shows we're not the first generation to be caught blaming our behavior on our biology (my brain made me do it!).
"The Alchemist" by Ben Jonson is a satirical play that explores the themes of greed, deception, and the search for wealth and power. The play is set in London, and it follows the story of a group of con-men who set up a fake alchemy laboratory in order to swindle wealthy clients!
The play is a comedy of errors, as the con-men's schemes are constantly foiled by their own incompetence and the intervention of various characters, including a wealthy businessman, a love-struck nobleman, and a pious widow. The play is a commentary on the greed and superficiality of the characters, and it shows how their desire for wealth and status ultimately leads to their downfall.
One of the most striking aspect of the play is Jonson's use of wit and irony to satirize the characters and their actions. The play is filled with clever wordplay and puns, and the characters are all stereotypes, which adds to the comedic effect. Jonson's portrayal of the alchemists' fraudulent schemes is also clever, as it exposes the superficiality of their actions.
The play also explores the theme of deception, and how it can be used to manipulate and control others. The con-men's schemes rely on their ability to deceive and manipulate their victims, and the play shows how their actions have a negative impact on the lives of the people they deceive.
The play is written in the Jacobean era's language, which may be challenging for some modern readers to understand, but the characters and their actions are relatable even today. The play is a perfect example of the era's satire and how it was used to comment on the society of that time.
Overall, "The Alchemist" is a clever and entertaining play that is filled with wit and irony. It is a must-read for anyone interested in Jacobean literature, as well as anyone looking for an exploration of the human condition. The play not only entertains but also makes the reader reflect on the societal issues of greed and deception and how it has been prevalent throughout history!
Hilarious! Oh, if only we were able to better understand the spoken English of the early seventeenth century, this play would still draw the same crowds that it had in London! The rapier wit is unassailable. Jonson shows his brilliance as a playwright and as an expert in Ancient Greece and Rome, and does so in such an unassuming way, that all London adored him. The fault with this play lies only in the manner of its presentation. This volume is terrible. It seems to have been published primarily to avoid costs of paper and ink. The pages are few, the font minuscule, the verses avoid familiarity but appear as run-on sentences. There is little, if any, stage direction to afford even the hint of order. If you have no background in theater, if you lack an understanding of Shakespearian English, if you are ignorant of history, you will curse this play as too challenging. There’s the pity.
Some geniune laugh out loud moments, I would much prefer to have seen this performed as opposed to having read it. It's a social satire from 1610, when people still could believe in eternal elixirs, philosopher's stones, alchemy which was fuelled by a ever present lust for gold and its equivalents. I did not truly enjoy it but I could see the humour popping out on a stage so very clearly anyway, so maybe I rushed through this one? Coleridge believed this play had the most perfect plot according to Wikipedia and though I'm yet to read Biographia Literaria, maybe other readers would agree with him.