Andrew's Reviews > Shakespeare and the Arts of Language

A very worthwhile journey through the linguistic arts of Shakespeare's dramatic poetry (and prose), particularly the dominance of the figure, or metaphor; but not only. McDonald has the ability to maintain a highly sustained concentration on the abstract, and while this develops into a very interesting foray into the rhetoric toolkit of the playwright's portfolio, illustrated by many interesting examples (some delicious), it can become very difficult to sustain that level of concentration oneself, as a reader. This is why illustrative examples from the plays are essential (it would be a little achievement without, of course).

There are moments which spark the brain into life like an electric frieze of pattern. Such moments include the schemata of figures in the illustration of Henry Peacham's Garden of Eloquence (1577); the examples from Richard II and Romeo and Juliet; and Brutus' soliloquy on Caesar from 2.1. These fair catch fire in the mind's eye, and reading them out of context elevates them in their exemplification.

But there are whole passages which cause one to drift off, catch the breath, pull back and re-read. When giving illuminations from a broad spread of critical theorists of the twentieth century, clarity reigns, and you cannot help but wonder, with this complex topic, if the task is simply too ambitious for a casual (non-study) read. Yet, while the discussion around metonymy, for example, is akin to visually following a telescoping perspective, you need to know the premise of metonymy in the first place. While technical terms are explained (in parenthesis) during the illustration of an example - anaphora (fine), metalepsis (?) - some, such as the latter, evade clear understanding, or do not quite illustrate the definition. For these occasions, re-reading is essential. For the error or omission of understanding is clearly on my side.

It does take a couple of chapters to get going, building from the historicist view of historical context, before we get into examples from the plays; and as each chapter brings increasing rewards, it becomes a book you would rather pick up than put down. There can be no better recommendation. So persistence through the opening passages pays off, and proportionally more as you progress. I found that schema perfectly placed to give my mind something totally clearly structured to lean on and move on from. More of these flashpoints - of discrete, highly structured visual cues - would have improved my experience, but pacing helps as well. One chapter a day is not a fool's cop-out. And that's how I read (red) it: for pleasure, not for any other reason than the reward of enquiry.

I had a bit of a problem with definitions in the section on Prose. Firstly, McDonald's comparison of style in the first to second tetralogies, and his assertion that in the later tetralogy (R II, 1-2 H IV and H V), "a great deal of prose is spoken, mostly in the tavern and on the battlefield by non-ranking soldiers", may apply to the 3 Henries (I have not yet read the two Fourths), but Richard II is 100% verse, so it is, in the canon, the most opposite of his point. Secondly, when delineating the difference between 'protaxis' and 'hypotaxis' in prose construction, his definition of the former, that "elements are linked with conjunctions, 'and' or 'but' or 'neither...nor', is contrary to the OED's definition that such elements (i.e. lists) are NOT linked by conjunctions, which clouds the issue. The crux of the definition is, according to the OED, 'the relation (of coordination or subordination) between them' [a series of propositions or clauses] without indicatory conjunctions. This is technically the most demanding section of the book, and clarity and accuracy of definition are pretty important for understanding. I get the 'colour' of his argument, but other sources disagree with his definitions.

On the whole, though, this is the kind of detailed investigation of the arts of Shakespeare's rhetoric, and especially of his figurative writing, which is essential not just to understanding some of the plays (Macbeth, especially), but for enjoying them. Each time you read a book like this, you feel that your treasured knowledge of a challenging author's work is enriched, through more discrete awareness, through little cross-fertilisations of referents, through a gradual accretion of understanding. Shakespeare's plays are a network of feasts, and within each something sits which electrifies as the eye crosses it, the sound forms, the mind builds the imagery, and the smartness of the point (or compound points) impresses. Shakespeare can thrill, and the more you read works like this, the more you become aware of those thrills, and the more you relish the next experience of the kind.

It is an intriguing realisation as you move through this book that the author is building up a pattern of meaning from a simpler introduction to more and more sophisticated means of illustration; just as Shakespeare started his early plays with the conventions of iambic pentameter, and then moved through the sophistications of the tragedies and into a denser language of metrical variation, syntactic disjuncture and a form of linguistic compression. Perhaps there are also disjunctures within this emerging sophistication, such as Richard II (1595-6), roughly a third the way through his portfolio, 100% verse, marking the end of medievalism and the chivalric period. Different forms or poesy and device, illustrating wider cultural significance or concentrating our attention - albeit often semi-consciously - on psychological as well as behavioural states. Finding patterns, searching for greater meaning, is what our minds naturally do, and it is quite pleasurable to follow McDonald's path through this vast and vastly impressive body of work. It seems, at times, a shame to limit the discussion to so few examples. But maybe, if you grow to love this linguistic approach to Shakespeare's hidden messages, this book is merely a primer for a far greater body of research.

One of those areas, which McDonald ends his book on, are the late romances; something got me about those last two of them, The Tempest, a long time ago, and The Winter's Tale, a couple of years ago. That move from the potentially tragic disaster to the optimistic (comic) ending. That something is reflected in McDonald's summing up, and it is the optimism on which they end, and the achievement of a seeming impossibility, another chance at a broken relationship, which makes them so valuable. Such hope is persistent, and fitting to a career and a life. And to this book.

Certainly I have come away with a greater appreciation of the later plays, particularly the romances and their artifice and turbulent language. I want to read more about the linguistic content of these plays. I shall read his next: Shakespeare's Late Style. I want to see more performances. I want more - and that is wonderful tribute to a book.