THE RAPE OF LUCRECE –STILL DISTURBING

I first read Shakespeare’s The Rape of Lucrece many years ago when I was a teenager, and passed over it pretty quickly because at that time I was more interested in the plays, but I returned to it a few years ago when I worked as language/text coach on The Norwegian Opera’s production of Benjamin Britten’s The Rape of Lucretia. The libretto for that was written by Ronald Duncan, based on a French play by André Obey. The story though is essentially the same in all these versions, and stems from the classical tale as told by Ovid in Fasti and Livy in his History of Rome. The opera fleshed out the narrative somewhat, introducing characters who are only mentioned in Shakespeare’s version, and staged much more of the pretext to the unfortunate act of transgression. Shakespeare does away with most of this background in a prose ”Argument” printed before the start of the poem, thus diving straight into the central action of the piece: The rape of Lucrece.

Thus, the poem concerns almost entirely the two main characters –the unfortunate Lucrece, and her husband’s supposed friend Sextus Tarquinius who forces himself upon her. The first part of the long poem belongs to him, the second to Lucrece. It’s at times a hard, disturbing read, and as a poem it is both a serious counter-poem to the frothier, mythological Venus and Adonis that precedes it, and a harbinger of some of the tragedies to come. Like Venus and Adonis it is essentially a drama, with lots of action and talking and atmosphere, but its power lies in Shakespeare’s brilliant, succinct language. It’s more direct, less playful than in the former poem, yet brimming with astounding pictures and a true command of the sounds of particular words. It is here I really start to sense the skillful way Shakespeare uses vowel sounds to convey various emotions –which he puts to use so brilliantly in many of the plays that follow. And I feel Shakespeare has worked hard on this piece –By that I don’t mean that it seems laboured, but more considered and weighty than the delightful musicality of Venus and Adonis. Like all of Shakespeare it is best served when read aloud, and each 7-line verse is a miniature drama of its own. (Venus and Adonis had verses of 6 lines, so the rhythm here is quite different, though both poems, like the sonnets, pack their punch into the final couplet of each verse.
When working on the opera there was relatively little I could use from Shakespeare to illuminate the Ronald Duncan text or Britten’s music, but it was intriguing to see how such different creative forces tackled essentially the same story. Duncan’s text clarified much that was difficult or obscure in Shakespeare (who is guilty of some digression here and there it must be said), and Britten’s haunting music captured what Shakespeare managed with mere music of words and poetry.

This work, like Venus and Adonis before it, was enormously popular in Shakespeare’s own time and saw many re-printings in his lifetime. Nowadays, hardly anyone bothers to read it (do they read long poems at all?), and admittedly it is not at all a ”feel-good” read. But it is gripping, disturbing, sad, tragic and moving. And you are encountering a master poet and dramatist in one.

Favourite Line:

Brand not my forehead with thy piercing light,
For day hath naught to do what’s done by night.

VENUS AND ADONIS –SIZZLINGLY HOT!

Most people today think of Shakespeare as a dramatist –the dramatist, and just about everyone knows something about his plays, even if they have never seen them. But relatively few people outside of us ”Shakspeareholics” know that at heart he was perhaps first and foremost a poet –and it was as a poet he really gained his reputation in his own time. Ok, perhaps (hopefully) you know he wrote sonnets –154 of them according to my collected edition– and that these are some of the finest, most beautiful love poems ever written, each 14 lines long. But he also wrote much longer poems – almost works of drama in themselves. The first of these is Venus and Adonis –and I’ll bet only a handful of you have ever read it. Yet, it was enormously popular in Shakespeare’s day, with at least ten reprints in his lifetime alone; in fact it was the most frequently printed of all Shakespeare’s works while he lived. Nowadays, you probably find it stuffed at the back of a ”Collected Works” where it is left unread by all but the most dedicated of readers –and admittedly, I too had never encountered it before, knowing it only by name, and assuming its obscurity meant that it was difficult and possibly not very interesting. How wrong I was!

For Venus and Adonis is a delight! And I want you all to go away and read it through, right now, aloud! It will take less than an afternoon, but it will fill you with the same experience as seeing a Shakespeare play, for this is drama –a drama poem– that is both simple and wide-ranging, comic and tragic, and oozing with lust, desire, eroticism and life! It has some of the most explicit sexual language in all of Shakespeare (which may partly explain why it has been pushed to the back of the collected editions ever since Victorian times), and some of the juiciest reflections on everything to do with ”love” that is found anywhere in literature. And its language is brilliant –this is Shakespeare discovering and cherishing his love of sounds, words, ideas vocalized and sheer poetry. This is why I urge anyone who reads this to read it aloud; so much of what makes this piece delightful is in the rhythm of the lines, and one is constantly astounded by the sheer creativity and sharpness of thought at work.

The story itself comes from Ovid –Shakespeare’s favourite writer, it would seem– and is a simple enough ”two hander” without the intricacies of plot that we find in the plays; yet it is easy to see this being performed as a stage drama –much of it is in dialogue, and there is something very theatrical about it. Apparently it was written during a time when the theatres in London were closed due to the plague, so there was no outlet for the young Shakespeare’s dramatic works –and thus he wrote a pair of dramatic poems that people could read for themselves (the other being The Rape of Lucrece). I would love to see it presented on stage in some way today.

Interestingly, there are echoes of the play that preceded it –Richard III– in the central role played by a boar in the poem, and the theme of a determined woman lusting for a young, beautiful man is something that clearly appeals to Shakespeare because the comedies that follow use similar elements of desire, sometimes to great comic effect –such as the poor Dromio in The Comedy of Errors being ”cornered” by the determined kitchen wench. But Venus and Adonis has some great comic moments too, that made me laugh out loud and whoop!

So for richness of language, incredibly creative imagery, and sheer delight, Venus and Adonis deserves to be FAR better known that it is. Though I said it could be read in an afternoon, I myself spread the reading of it over a couple of days. It is not difficult to tackle, once you grasp the ”tune” or ”metre”, but it needs a bit of concentration and plenty of time to savour each verse, for this is a meal with many delicious courses. Enjoy!

Favourite lines:

Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast.
Yet love breaks through, and picks them all at last.