Laurie,
let me start by thanking you very
much for your considered, respectful, and probing disagreements with my (admittedly
radical and unprecedented) claim that Iago is disguised as the Clown in 3.1 and
3.4 of Othello. It’s exactly the kind
of reply I hope to receive, whether in agreement or disagreement, because I
must sharpen my argument to keep it viable.
Laurie
wrote: “I recall that something very like this was posted in response to Larry
Weiss. I admit at the time that I was in transit from Australia to New Orleans
for SAA, so I skimmed it, but my memory served me well in thinking that you had
not yet addressed 3.1, Arnie”
Laurie,
as you discerned, in my early reply to Larry, I wrote “3.4” when I meant to
write “3.1”, and I only became aware of the typo when reading, and responding
to, your previous reply to me---hence my (silent) correction of that typo in
that reply. I apologize for any confusion, and I’m glad you went on to reply to
my claim as I originally intended it.
That
confusion has an inadvertent silver lining, as it suggests to me another line
of rebuttal to your critique of my argument re Iago’s wearing a disguise as a
Clown that Iago could readily remove and re-don in a very short time
period. I.e., while it appears that the
situation in 3.4 is different from that in 3.1 in terms of time lapse, upon
examination it is not materially different at all, as I’ll now explain:
On
the one hand, in 3.4 there’s clearly plenty of time between the Clown’s exit and
Iago’s entrance, to allow Iago to discreetly remove and stow away his disguise
as Clown. I imagine that disguise to have consisted of a face-concealing beard---like
the one Iago specifically directs Roderigo to wear while in Cyprus----together
with some appropriate loose-fitting Clown garb, which Iago could’ve worn right on top of his usual
clothing. Such a disguise would have been very easily and quickly removed, and
would also have provided an additional benefit—it would’ve concealed Iago’s actual
trim soldier’s body shape, making his build appear huskier. And the rest of
Iago’s disguise, such as change of voice and gait, would obviously have been
instantaneously shed.
In
3.1, on the other hand, it might seem at first glance that there’s not enough
time for Iago to pull off the same quick-change, when we read this sequence:
CASSIO
Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There's
a poor piece of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that attends the general's
wife be stirring, tell her there's one Cassio entreats her a little favour of
speech:
wilt thou do this?
wilt thou do this?
CLOWN She is stirring, sir: if she will stir
hither, I shall seem to notify unto her.
CASSIO
Do, good my friend.
Exit
CLOWN
Enter
IAGO
CASSIO
Why,
no; the day had broke
Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago,
To send in to your wife: my suit to her
Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona
Procure me some access.
Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago,
To send in to your wife: my suit to her
Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona
Procure me some access.
It’s
easy to take the path of least resistance, and read “Exit Clown Enter Iago”, as if only a few seconds elapse between
these two stage events. However, I suggest that would be an assumption based on
no actual evidence. Going further, if we study the above passage, I say it’s more
plausible and realistic if there’s a gap of about 30 seconds between that exit and
entry. Why?
On
the upper side, a gap of more than 30 seconds without spoken dialog or
significant action would begin to feel like dead air on the radio—but for 30
seconds, I think it would be dramatically quite effective if, after the Clown
enters the castle, we watch Cassio nervously pacing back and forth a half dozen
times. Cassio would not expect Emilia to appear instantaneously, because it
would take time minutes for the Clown to get to her, to speak to her, and then for
her to make her way down to the castle entrance. But Cassio would be very
agitated, and every second would feel like a minute to him. That would make
good theater, don’t you think? The absence of dialog for 30 seconds would work
perfectly.
And
then, when Iago suddenly shows up after only 30 seconds, instead of a few
minutes, Cassio would be pleasantly surprised, which neatly explains why he
says “In happy time, Iago”. This would translate today into “Even quicker than
I expected, and just the guy I needed to talk to as well.”
And,
in the same vein, there’s nothing in Iago’s “You have not been a-bed, then?”
that suggests that Iago, who presumably emerged
from Othello’s castle the same way the Clown entered, has encountered the Clown,
or that suggests that Iago has any idea that Cassio was going to be there when
he walked outside. Yet if Iago and the Clown had bumped into each other, you’d think
that the Clown would’ve immediately passed Cassio’s message on to Iago, to in
turn pass on to Iago’s own wife, Emilia, right?
And,
getting to my main point, if 30 seconds have elapsed between the Clown’s exit
and Iago’s entrance, that gives Iago plenty of time to shed his Clown disguise
and stow it away safely in a dark hall corner near the castle entrance, where
he can quickly get at it again (which he will need to do so after he leaves
Othello’s room at the castle at the end of 3.3). And so Iago can then bolster his
disguise as the Clown by speaking to Cassio as if he did not bump into the (imaginary)
Clown in the hall inside.
Laurie
also wrote: “You begin the revised comment with “What if…,” which always
concerns me when it is offered for an explanation of what is supposed to be
true for the play (in this case, that the Clown’s true identity is
Iago). The moment we have to supplement the explicit content of the play with a
“what if” explanation to cover what isn’t there, we are moving away from the
play, I suggest. “
As I
think I’ve already made clear in the first part of this reply, above, when I
wrote “What if”, I wasn’t suggesting a departure
from what is written in the text of the play, so much as I’m suggesting a
departure from reading the stage directions too passively, and assuming
Shakespeare always wrote them to be as complete and clear as possible.
I’d also
like to answer by presenting my specific claim in larger context.
First,
apropos my claim that it’s a normal part of Shakespearean stagecraft for performers
to have to answer questions like “how much time to leave between exits and
entrances”, correct me if I am wrong, but I don’t believe it was common for Shakespeare
to micromanage so closely, as to specify time lapses between the exit of one
character followed without intervening event by the exit of another character. My
recollection is that Shakespeare did not do this, not because it is unimportant,
but because he expected the performer to examine the context of the scene, and to
determine what sort of time lapse would make sense. Just as the greatest
musical composers left a great deal to the interpretive imagination of the
performer in their musical notations.
Second,
think about all the careful analysis that any actor must engage in, in order to
determine how to deliver lines – again, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t
believe there are many speeches in the Shakespeare canon in which he
micromanages by, e.g., telling actors which lines are meant to be delivered
ironically, and which are to be delivered straight. Why is that silence any different from the
silence I see regarding time lapses and other similar issues pertaining to
entrances and exits?
While
it’s beyond the scope of this thread of posts, my research over the past decade
has repeatedly suggested to me that, in some very significant aspects,
Shakespeare deliberately wrote his
stage directions with “significant silences”. By this I mean, he didn’t explicitly
say there was an implicit gap in those directions to be filled in, but he was
(like Iago at the end of Othello) going
“to never speak word” about that, one way or the other. That leaves it up to
the reader of the play to discern what is implicit.
This
is the very same methodology that Iago often used, where, like the devil he
was, he was happy to avoid outright lying if he could achieve his deceptions by
letting his victims make their own false assumptions about what he was telling
them. And it’s also the same methodology as is employed by many other
Shakespearean characters, like Viola, who, while still in disguise as a man,
speaks truthfully but cryptically to Olivia and Duke Orsino about her gender.
In
other words, I see myself as extending an old and rich strand of Shakespearean
criticism that has seen Shakespeare engaging in metafictional games with his
readers. By this I mean, Shakespeare conceived the relationship between himself
as playwright, and his readers, as involving the same Machiavellian manipulations of point of view as are employed
by a number of his most memorable characters. And there is no character more
that way than Iago, so therefore it is particularly fitting that Shakespeare
should engage in such subtle misleading in the way Iago is presented to the
audience.
In
short, then, I attribute to Shakespeare a didactic motive in leaving silences
and gaps in his play texts which invite the sort of inquiry I’ve made in this
case, and which provide a great payoff in discovering major, surprising aspects
of his greatest characters.
Laurie
also wrote: “Yet let us go further. The explanation goes on to say that upon
the direction to “exit,” the actor playing the Clown/Iago would not leave the
stage, but would still be seen “at the extreme side of the stage, behind some
sort of wall …” – I’d be curious to find out where else in the early modern
dramatic canon a stage direction to “exit” was expected to be a direction to not
leave the stage. This would seem to be a significant departure from the
practice of entrances and exits as they have been understood. Even where there
have been debates about where an entrance or exit is to be made (Fitzpatrick vs
Gurr and Ichikawa, for example), I’ve never heard it said that an exit was
actually not an exit at all. I’m also unsure that “some sort of wall” might be
built to erect on the Globe stage, or the Blackfriars’ stage, or at court, for the
sole purpose of allowing this switch to be made on-stage: does the play offer
other situations in which this set element would be used?”
I
would guess that there have been such
stagings and usage of props, and I ask anyone else reading this with knowledge
of stage history (that I lack) to chime in if you know of any.
But
let’s assume for purposes of argument that you are correct, Laurie, that my
suggestion regarding an exit not being a full exit vis a vis the audience would
be unprecedented in the staging of Othello.
That doesn’t make it incorrect, it may just mean that no one who has
previously staged Othello has read
the stage directions of the Clown’s exit followed by Iago’s entrance from the
metafictional perspective I put forward, above. I.e., perhaps my interpretation
has always been implicit in the text, but has been hiding patiently in plain
sight for four centuries, waiting to be recognized.
But,
as I think about it further, my interpretation does not depend upon an exit of
the Clown being a partial exit – I can also readily imagine, instead, that Iago
(disguised as the Clown) makes his exit, then discards the disguise entirely offstage, and
then enters within 30 seconds, appearing as himself. I believe that the actor
playing Iago/Clown could easily do things gesturally that would clue the
audience into that disguise. For example (and I imagine an experienced actor
could think of several ways of pulling this off), Iago, while disguised as the
Clown, might have walked with a limp (a fitting idea, given Othello’s later imagining
he sees Iago’s hooves!) in order to further distance the Clown’s appearance
from Iago’s. But then, as the Clown exits, and Cassio is not looking at him, he
might instantly stop limping and give a significant look at the audience as he
walks off.
But….I
still prefer the idea of the exit
that is not entirely an exit, because I still believe it would be more dramatic. Speaking of which….
Laurie
also wrote: “I’m sorry, Arnie, but I don’t think that the pause required for
the shedding of a disguise (since nothing else happens on stage while this is
supposed to take place) lends itself to an electrifying dramatic moment, but
that’s a difference of opinion.”
Yes we
do disagree, But I guess neither of us will really know unless and until my
version is enacted before a real audience, and we observe their reaction! ;)
Laurie
also wrote: “Of more interpretive importance, I think, is the suggestion that a
costume or at least mask and prop change constitutes the “same sort of duping”
Iago inflicts on others. I simply don’t see this as anything like the sort of
duping to which he subjects other characters in the play, where his arsenal is
routinely verbal.”
But
you forget---Iago deploys Roderigo in physical disguise as his secret agent! Doesn’t
that totally rebut your point, since it shows that Iago’s “toolkit” of deception
does include physical disguise? And then,
it’s a distinction without a difference between Roderigo in disguise at Iago’s direction,
and Iago in disguise at his own direction.
And
even if it weren’t for that, I’d still aver that knowing Iago to be a master of
deception in verbal ways does make it more likely that he’d also
achieve deception in nonverbal ways as well.
Laurie
also wrote: “The final concern I have relates to the added comment in response
to my query: “it’s a giant hint to a creative director” = first, this suggests
Shakespeare foresaw the advent of the director as a focus for creative
oversight of a production….”
And
I reply: that’s another distinction without a difference! In every staging of a
Shakespeare play, going back to his own, someone,
whether Shakespeare himself, or a director, or an actor, has to decide how to make
performance questions like this one. So whether you want to think of it as a
hint to a director, or to an actor, or to whomever else you like, it’s a hint.
Sometimes silences can be deafening.
Laurie
concluded with: “As I say, then, I’m yet to be convinced.”
If
you will favor me with another substantive reply, addressing my further
arguments, above, I will be honored. Perhaps I will nudge you a step or two
closer to convincing. ;)
Cheers,
ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode
on Twitter
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