NAVSA 2015 Annual Conference – Victorians and the World

Surreal Foliage: Banang Trees

I have just come back from an extremely informative and rewarding conference at this year's NAVSA annual conference, Victorians and the World, held in Honolulu, Hawaii. I delivered a paper inspired by certain aspects that have popped up whilst I've been conducting the research for my thesis. Over the course of my study, I have noticed that as the century approached it's close, the style of the plays became progressively more realistic. However, in my paper I attribute this solely to the work of Henrik Ibsen. However, it is possible to identify elements of realism which predate Ibsen’s popular years by twenty or even thirty years in some of the plays. As such, whilst my paper for NAVSA posed that it was Ibsen’s influence that was changing the style of the plays so dramatically from one another (and the original sources), I now seek to identify the pre-Ibsen stage adaptations, which are ‘realistic’.

At the conference, a recently finished PhD student from the University of South Florida, Dan Brown, delivered a paper, which was appropriately (and somewhat embarrassingly) right before mine. In it, he refuted Ibsen's title as the father of the realism and rightly so. I then had to awkwardly stand up and follow Dan’s paper, which had thoroughly denied Ibsen his commonly accepted title, and lay the full stylistic changes I had recognised in my studies at Ibsen’s feet along, as such before I started speaking I had to nod to the fact that in that paper I was accepting Ibsen as the sole father of realism, but that there is plenty of evidence to show that he is not. I added that, what's more his crown needs to be re-evaluated in the light of new evidence. 

Certainly as the century reaches the fin-de-siècle, elements of realism became more frequent and more noticeable in the adaptations. In James Willings’ (1879) and Wills’ (1882) productions of Jane Eyre. They both focus on character development and show Jane struggling with her inner desire to be with Rochester despite his existing marriage. A vital element of the theatrical style of realism is the presentation of controversial issues. Both Wills and Willings present a discussion of delicate social issues. Willings’ goes so far as to present the burgeoning women’s movement with the ‘female sisterhood’ frequently invoked (Stoneman 2007: 330-331 and 336). Pre-dating both Wills and Willings, Charlotte Birch-Pfeiffer's adaptation of Jane Eyre from 1870 contains many elements that are recognisable as realism. Her production, and she herself, was German. This is particularly revealing regarding the state of European literature and Art in the nineteenth-century, as Ibsen himself was from Norway of course. On a separate note, it would be very interesting to chart specific plays in date order on a map to see whether the theatrical style of realism did originate in Northern and Central Europe before reaching Britain.

Birch Pfeiffer’s ‘realistic’ German adaptation is marked by the fact that it was the first one to entirely cut the novel’s telepathy scene between Jane and Rochester. The only British adaptation to do so was Willing’s in 1879. The omission of this scene in both plays indicates a definite move away from not only the sensationalism and Gothic aspects of the original source, but also a move away from the theatrical style employed by the earlier adaptations. The scene does re-appear in Wills’ production in 1882, however it is not shown directly on the stage and is only referred to by Jane on her arrival at Ferndean as a ‘vision’ to explain her return to Rochester. Evidently by 1870 the sensation of this scene had lost its charm for the Victorian audiences.

Examples of pre-Ibsen realism also extend to the stage adaptations of Mary Elizabeth Braddon’s Lady Audley’s Secret. In John Brougham’s adaptation of Lady Audley’s Secret (1866) the focus of the play is on social responsibility. A key aspect of realism is the presentation of taboo subjects and Lady Audley is shown being pushed to the edge by a restrictive patriarchal society as she is not given the much needed support she requires as an abandoned wife with a child to feed. This is the message that Brougham ultimately presents. He also indicates that Lady Audley may well have committed bad acts, but that ultimately she was not a bad woman. He lays the blame of Lady Audley’s ‘madness’ firmly at the audience’s feet by having Lady Audley accuse everyone gathered around her in the play’s climax for goading her to ‘madness’. You can easily see her stood on the stage in this scene, not just pointing at the characters gathered around her but at the audience too. For Brougham, crucially it was that Lady Audley tried to escape the restrictions imposed on her by a cruel, patriarchal society that made her ‘mad’ in the eyes of society. Or more succinctly, she was mad because she refused to conform. 

The stage adaptations of Mrs Henry Wood’s East Lynne (1863) also presents evidence of the move towards more realistic theatre. Hamilton Hume’s adaptation from 1863 is the most sensational as a result of its use of dramatic, emotive language, asides and soliloquies and tableaux; key elements of the style. However as the nineteenth-century progressed the use of these dramatic devices declines as the chart below shows.

Number of Tableaux/Pictures

Author	No. of Tableaux / Pictures
Hamilton Hume 1863	7
Spencer 1865	2
Palmer 1874	1 1
Dick 1879	0

Whilst Dick’s production takes place on the edge of Ibsen’s most popular period starting, what this chart shows is that the style of the works performed in, what are dismissively called, minor theatres was changing before Ibsen became really successful.

As a final note, the most significant thing I took away from this year’s NAVSA conference was not an organised event or a planned meeting, it was something completely organic deriving from the pooling of all of our areas of research and the resulting discussions. Every year people will leave NAVSA with a completely new thought that will lead them on to a new path of enquiry or make them completely re-evaluate their whole research. This will largely be for the better, as was my personal experience. NAVSA has enriched my already significant research to date, not just by informing me of new authors or events, but by just encouraging deeper thought and greater probing. 

Review of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell BBC Adaptation

Susannah Clarke’s 2004 breakthrough novel has been beautifully adapted to the small screen, albeit very loosely! But that's the joy of adaptation, you don't have to be strict. The adaptor has complete control over his or her vision of the story. The only problem is that readers are very protective over their own interpretations of the story, confusing their individual, very personal reading experiences with the hard and fast and only true interpretation of the story.

In terms of the key differences between the original source and the adapted series, both the opening and the conclusion sequences are dramatically different. I won't say how here; no spoilers! However, it is important to recognise that they are different, and to understand that the differences derive from the difficulty in transferring a story from one medium to the other.

This means that some elements of the story may be lost due to either the practicalities of filming some particularly fantastical scenes, and also the confines of the time allotted to either the episodes in the series or the running length of the film. The events are also sped up to fill the time. For this BBC mini-series this means that the story moves along at a speedy but pleasant pace making it highly enjoyable to watch. The Napoleonic war scenes are particularly tense and emotive because of this.

What works really well is the characterisation of Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, played by Bertie Carvel and Eddie Marsan respectively. They are more believable and likeable in this series than in the book. Even at their lowest moments they are endearing and captivating. The gentleman with the thistledown hair, played by Marc Warren, was eery and dangerous, presenting not just a threat to Lady Pole and Jonathan Strange, but a very real threat to humanity itself.

The costumes and set are brilliant with real continuity to the past. And the special effects are truly magical!

The unexpected unhappy ending left me wanting another series, I also experienced this when I was reading the original. The date for the sequel is still to be confirmed. In 2004 Susannah Clarke stated that she was writing the sequel but that it instead follows Vinculus and Childermass so maybe I won't get the closure I desire for Jonathan, Arabella and Mr Norrell.

All in all, this is an adaptation to watch but try to just sit back, relax and enjoy the show and celebrate the director’s interpretation by not getting caught up in your own interpretation of the story.

The RSC’s The Merchant of Venice - August 1st 2015

Over the weekend, I pottered up to Stratford for yet another expedition to the RSC. This excursion was a very gratefully received Christmas present from my boyfriend’s sister and it ended up being the most innovative stocking filler ever! (Thanks again Cat!)

The director, Polly Findlay, took her production in a completely different direction to any I've ever seen before, and possibly of any I think I'll likely ever see again. Her, as far as I'm aware, completely original interpretation of Antonio’s motivation for agreeing to the heavy terms of  Shylock’s loan, was rooted in the gay love affair between the much younger Bassiano and Antonio. Bassiano’s marriage to Portia therefore became a kind of cover marriage. Making Portia’s later frustration with Bassiano having discovered he had given away her ring (albeit to her in disguise) even more relatable. Because disguised as the young but ingenious doctor, she had witnessed the aftermath of Antonio and Bassiano celebrating the success of defeating Shylock, by publicly kissing … a lot.

This approach is one I’d never considered, or even heard of before, but for me it makes complete sense in the context of the play. It had always seemed strange that Antonio had been willing to risk so much for a friend, but when the potential ‘win’ is a cover marriage so that they can carry on their love affair undisturbed, it seems a lot more comprehensible that Antonio accepted the terms of the loan.  It might seem very unsympathetic to the original context of the play, you might assume that the Elizabethans were very conservative. There is a trend of assuming our ancestors, like the Victorians, were very conservative. This is not the case in either the Elizabethan or the Jacobean periods. Male love was for more accepted in these periods than in many other. This is largely due to the Renaissance, anything classically Greek or Roman was admired and emulated. Today one of those lesser discussed elements , was homo-erotica and male love. The mighty warrior Alexander the Great was a homosexual. And so for the Tudors homosexuality was not as shameful as it became for us in later centuries. We now know that there were many male courtiers in King James I’s court who were as queer as queer can be! King James I of England and VI of Scotland was widely rumoured to be homosexual.


So maybe Polly Findlay’s idea wasn't too far from the mark after all! Maybe we, and our conservative  theatrical forefathers, have completely missed latent homosexuality as we have utterly wrongly assumed that Shakespeare was a prude. Any students of Shakespeare past GCSE level know just how bawdy Shakespeare was. Look at Hotspur in Henry IV and even Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet who thinks that if Romeo could just get his end away he’d get over Rosalind straight away… and he was right of course! The problem is we’ve allowed the Bowdlerisation(footnote) of Shakespeare to enter public consciousness. Shakespeare, like Chaucer hundreds of years beforehand, was filthy! He loved a cheap laugh. So maybe Antonio and Bassiano were meant to be camp stereotypes so that the audience could laugh at the witless Portia being cuckolded by the man who made her marriage possible … I’ll leave that up to you to decide.

The anti-semitic elements are not as prominent as in The Jew of Malta which I saw a few weeks beforehand and that I studied during my MA. I confess that I've not read The Merchant of Venice so I do not know if Findlay cut a lot of the anti-Semitic language. The beginning scenes contain the most anti-semitism with Shylock even being spat in the face. Jessica, Shylock’s daughter, is called an ‘infidel’ by her husband’s friends upon meeting them, but really the instances are few and far between in the play, however The Jew was full of references from beginning to end. Polly Findlay’s focus is not on Shylock and Jessica’s strained relationship, rather the audience’s attention is firmly on Portia and Bassiano’s relationship.  This makes a real contrast from The Jew of Malta where it's on Barabas and his daughter Abigail.

Further surprises came in the style of the play. There were some very Brechtian elements such as the actors waiting just off stage to feature, and even a tableau where the costume change was done on stage as Portia and Nerissa adopted their male alter-egos. The costumes were modern dress but had an Elizabethan air about them, for example, long to mid-length full coats being worn by several of the male characters, but in very bright and even neon colours.

The set was also unusual. It felt like we were inside a giant Newton’s cradle; gently nodding to the typical ‘80s American Wall Street production.

Makram J. Khoury was a brilliant Shylock, with plenty of gravitas. Tim Samuels as Launcelot Gobbo, the fool, was hilarious and surprising! Nerissa was played by the disabled actress Nadia Albina, whose right arm finishes at the elbow. She kept her arm visible at all times not attempting to hide or disguise it at all. Something I admire deeply after she received negative reviews for being cast as Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire last year
(http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2014/jun/02/disabled-actor-plays-blanche-dubois-streetcar-named-desire). Although she had one of the smallest parts in the play, she was active, engaging and captivating.

My final thought is that this was a truly innovative, breath of fresh air that really encapsulates the RSC’s objective to keep Shakespeare alive by making it relevant for us today.