For reasons literary rather than
political, I was just reading the brief, angry exchange in Act 2 Scene 1 of A
Midsummer Night’s Dream between Titania and Oberon, who are of course the Fairy
Queen and King. So it was a big surprise when, while reading Titania’s long,
eloquent speech about the chaos in the world caused by the rift between them
she blames on Oberon, I was struck by an unlikely yet, upon reflection, chilling
coincidence with our current political world.
Of course I mean by this the (literally)
Mexican standoff that began nearly a month ago between Trump, the (would-be)
King of the United States, and Nancy Pelosi, the valiant Queen. She has, since
reassuming power as Speaker of the House, repeatedly given us fresh hope, by showing
an iron spine in politely but firmly refusing to bow to his insane, malevolent demands.
But how will this compelling
political drama -- our seemingly never-ending national nightmare which began just
over two years ago, got really bad a
month ago, and just refuses to leave the stage, or to let us leave our seats ---
reach its resolution? Will it be tragedy with bodies littering the stage, or a comic
ending in which evil is banished and harmony prevails? How can we write the final
act of this play to get us to the latter?
I’ve written in the past --- “Did Greenblatt overlook the most
unkindest cut of all? Steve Bannon’s Shakespearean Caesarean ghostwritten misbegetting
of Donald Trump” http://tinyurl.com/ycsqnbkn
---
about how I see Bannon, the failed literary modernizer of Shakespeare’s
Roman plays, successfully wrote the real-life lines that Donald Trump read,
which enabled him to usurp control of the “Rome” of today. Today I am back with another Shakespearean
riff on Trump.
And so now I will present to you the
text of Titania’s eloquent, impassioned speech. As I proceed, I’ll point out the
many eerie parallels between Shakespeare’s dreamworld and the all-too-real nightmarish
tragedy unfolding before our eyes -- parallels which are so striking that it might
almost make one wonder whether Shakespeare out-Nostradamused Nostradamus, by
having his plays double as predictions of the far distant future. Or is it
really just that history repeats itself?
The scene is set by Puck, who of
course is Oberon’s “fixer” (and aren’t we all counting the days until Michael “Puck”
Cohen takes the microphone in the House and spins a web of incriminating truth
around his former master, telling all about the many times he has sprinkled green-backed
“fairy dust” in order to accomplish his master’s every wish and command?:
The king doth keep his revels here
to-night:
[with Stormy? Karen?]
Take heed the queen come not within his sight; [no worries, Melania is in Florida]
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath, [Isn’t that Trump’s constant state?]
Because that she as her attendant hath
A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king; [or a Latino child, stolen from his parents?]
She never had so sweet a changeling;
And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild; [or put him in a cage after deporting his parents]
But she perforce withholds the loved boy,
Crowns him with flowers and makes him all her joy: [cheers for the many who advocate for the caged]
And now they never meet in grove or green,
By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,
But, they do square, that all their elves for fear
Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there.
Take heed the queen come not within his sight; [no worries, Melania is in Florida]
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath, [Isn’t that Trump’s constant state?]
Because that she as her attendant hath
A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king; [or a Latino child, stolen from his parents?]
She never had so sweet a changeling;
And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild; [or put him in a cage after deporting his parents]
But she perforce withholds the loved boy,
Crowns him with flowers and makes him all her joy: [cheers for the many who advocate for the caged]
And now they never meet in grove or green,
By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,
But, they do square, that all their elves for fear
Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there.
Titania won’t sleep with Oberon anymore,
out of jealousy for his many affairs (hmm… where have we seen that headline
recently?), and Oberon counters with allegations of her own dalliances, That’s
when Titania steps up and, like Nancy Pelosi in her recent televised addresses,
really socks it to the Oberon of that ersatz greenworld, Mar-a-Lago:
TITANIA
These are the forgeries of jealousy:
And never, since the middle summer's spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,
By paved fountain or by rushy brook,
Or in the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, [Here begins an Elizabethan description of Global Warming!]
As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
Contagious fogs; which falling in the land [Hurricanes]
Have every pelting river made so proud [Massive flooding]
That they have overborne their continents: [Earthquakes]
The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, [Famine]
The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green
For lack of tread are undistinguishable:
The human mortals want their winter here; [Drought]
No night is now with hymn or carol blest:
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound: [Epidemics]
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts [Climate change!]
Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which:
And this same progeny of evils comes [All of the above caused by human beings]
From our debate, from our dissension;
We are their parents and original.
And never, since the middle summer's spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,
By paved fountain or by rushy brook,
Or in the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, [Here begins an Elizabethan description of Global Warming!]
As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
Contagious fogs; which falling in the land [Hurricanes]
Have every pelting river made so proud [Massive flooding]
That they have overborne their continents: [Earthquakes]
The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, [Famine]
The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green
For lack of tread are undistinguishable:
The human mortals want their winter here; [Drought]
No night is now with hymn or carol blest:
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound: [Epidemics]
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts [Climate change!]
Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which:
And this same progeny of evils comes [All of the above caused by human beings]
From our debate, from our dissension;
We are their parents and original.
What happened next in Shakespeare’s
dark comedy? Oberon, in the throes of a massive masculine narcissistic injury, first
took spiteful revenge on Titania, by having Puck sprinkle a love potion on
Titania, causing her to fall in love with a jack-ass. Is that not what Putin
did to the American people, using the love potion of fake news and
disinformation which caused 1/3 of the American people to fall madly in love
with that monstrous jack-ass, Donald Trump? But in the end, somehow, magically,
harmony is restored to Shakespeare’s dreamworld.
But in our real world, far removed
from Shakespeare’s, we are going to need our new Titania (the role that Hillary
Clinton would have played had she not been denied election by fraud), Nancy
Pelosi, to stand her ground (and thereby our ground) against tyranny. She has
no option but to use all her political skills to coordinate the continuing massive
resistance that will bring the tyrant to his knees –harnessing the power of all
the good people in our country. And perhaps then begin to restore the natural
world to harmony before the curtain falls forever on our human stewardship of
planet Earth, so that a later 21st century Titania will tell a different
tale about the State of the Earth.
Cheers, ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode on Twitter
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