Magister Artium (Under CBSC) Text Book Semester II 9781981291724, 9443626593

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FIRST
BOOK COVER PSD PHOTO
FIRST PAGE TITLE
COPY RIGHT PAGE
ABOUT
ILE FULL BOOK
INDIAN LITERATURE IN ENGLISH TITLE & INDEX
INDIAN LITERATURE IN ENLISH BOOK
SHAKESPEARE FULL BOOK
SHAKESPEARE TITLE
SHAKESPEARE INDEX
SHAKESPEARE
AMERICAN LITERATURE FULL BOOK
AMERICAN LITERATURE TITLE & INDEX
AMERICAN LITERATURE

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M UM ABRARAHMEDS. STERARTI MAGI

SEMESTER - II

NAME: REGISTER NUMBER: UNIVERSITY REGISTER NUMBER:

Copyright: Islamiah College (Autonomous) Vaniyambadi Name of the Book:

Magister Artium (Under CBSC) Text Book Semester II

Compiled by:

Department of English Islamiah College (Autonomous) Vaniyambadi.

Year of Publication:

December 2017

Edition:

First

Quantity:

50 Copies

Pages:

203 excluding title page.

Price:

₹160 /-

ISBN:

978-19-8129-172-4

Published by:

Islamiah College (Autonomous) Department of English New Town, Vaniyambadi. 635752 Email: [email protected]

Printed by:

Limra Xerox Hassan Jewellery Kooza Complex. Vaniyambadi. 635751 Vellore Dist. Email: [email protected] Mobile: 9443626593

DTP done at:

S.M. Abrar Ahmed. M.A, DTAS, DCHM, DNT, DMT, HDCA 223/74 K.K.Street Muslimpur, Vaniyambadi – 635751

I am Abrar Ahmed S.M Editor of this book and this book is dedicated to my parents and professors who supported me a lot all the photos and whole letters of this book credit goes to www.google.com. In your hand is the New “Magister Artium” book for first year post graduate course M.A English prepared in accordance with the latest syllabus of Choice Based Credit System (CBCS) of our Islamiah College (Autonomous) introduced in the year 2017-2018. “Magister Artium” derived from Latin words it means Master of Arts. A person who admitted to a type of Master degree awarded by Universities. The title of the book “Magister Artium” in our colloquial words we can called as Master of Arts. So that i suggest the title “Magister Artium” to this book. In this book I have include the Subjects are Indian literature in English, Shakespeare and American literature. I have given introduction to the Authors and poem, Summary. In Particular Shakespeare’s plays Characters Map are given for the first time in our Department of English language and literature. In American literature also have given the introduction to the Authors and poem, Summary, Characters Map for Drama and novels. “Magister Artium” book is an invaluable material to any student of literature who wishes to acquire the spirit. I heartily recommend it to literature students of the post graduate. Abrar Ahmed S.M

﷽ ISLAMIAH COLLEGE (AUTONOMOUS) VANIYAMBADI NEWTOWN Department Of English M.A (English Literature) 1st Year Second Semester

INDIAN LITERATURE IN ENGLISH (UNDER CBSC) TEXT BOOK For First Year Postgraduate Course Subject Code: P6EN2002

EDITED BY

S.M.ABRAR AHMED.M.A, DTAS, DCHM, DNT, DMT, HDCA 223/74 K.K.STREET MUSLIMPUR VANIYAMBADI – 635751

INDIAN LITERATURE IN ENGLISH

UNITS

UNIT I

PAGE NO.

POETRY

1. Nissim Ezekiel

: Goodbye Party For Miss Pushpa T S

01

2. Arun Kolatkar

: Jejuri

03

UNIT II

POETRY

1.Rabindernath Tagore: Gitanjali UNIT III

27

PROSE

1. Jawaharlal Nehru : A Discovery of India

49

2. Sri Aurobindo

53

UNIT IV 1. Girish Karnad

: The Renaissance in India DRAMA : Nagamandala

2. Manjula Padmanabhan: Harvest UNIT V

58 60

NOVEL

1. Sashi Deshpande’s : The Dark Holds No Terrors

67

2. Kamala Markandaya: A Handful of Rice

70

GOODBYE PARTY FOR MISS PUSHPA T S Nissim Ezekiel About the poet Nissim Ezekiel (24 December 1924 – 9 January 2004) was an Indian Jewish actor, playwright, editor and art-critic. He was a foundational figure in postcolonial India's literary history, specifically for Indian writing in English. He was awarded the Sahitya Akademi Award in 1983 for his Poetry collection, "LatterDay Psalms", by the Sahitya Akademi, India's National Academy of Letters. Ezekiel is universally recognized and appreciated as being one of the most notable and accomplished Indian English language poets of the 20th century, applauded for his subtle, restrained and well-crafted diction, dealing with common and mundane themes in a manner that manifests both cognitive profundity, as well as an unsentimental, realistic sensibility, that has been influential on the course of succeeding Indian English poetry. Ezekiel enriched and established Indian English language poetry through his modernist innovations and techniques, which enlarged Indian English literature, moving it beyond purely spiritual and orientalist themes, to include a wider range of concerns and interests, including mundane familial events, individual angst and skeptical societal introspection. Friends, Our dear sister is departing for foreign in two three days, and we are meeting today to wish her bon voyage. You are all knowing, friends, what sweetness is in Miss Pushpa. I don‟t mean only external sweetness but internal sweetness. Miss Pushpa is smiling and smiling even for no reason but simply because she is feeling. Miss Pushpa is coming from very high family. Her father was renowned advocate in Bulsar or Surat, I am not remembering now which place. Surat? Ah, yes, once only I stayed in Surat with family members of my uncle‟s very old friend, his wife was cooking nicely… that was long time ago. Coming back to Miss Pushpa she is most popular lady with men also and ladies also. Whenever I asked her to do anything, she was saying, „Just now only I will do it.‟ That is showing Page 1

good spirit. I am always appreciating the good spirit. Pushpa Miss is never saying no. Whatever I or anybody is asking she is always saying yes, and today she is going to improve her prospect and we are wishing her bon voyage. Now I ask other speakers to speak and afterwards Miss Pushpa will do summing up. Introduction Nissim Ezekiel, a famous Indian poet, makes fun at Indians and their way of using English. Indians have their own use of English, which is different. This poem ridicules the Indian functions and the funny behaviour of Indian speakers. The poem is about a send-off party to Miss Pushpa, who goes to abroad. Her colleagues have gathered at one place to wish her bon voyage. One speaker, through whom the poet ridicules the Indian culture and language, speaks the whole poem. The Character of Miss Pushpa The speaker, throughout the poem, talks about Miss Pushpa and slowly reveals her character. The opening lines reveal two different characters of Miss Pushpa. First is that she is intelligent, because she goes to some foreign country. The second is that the speaker calls her as his sister. This sows that Miss Pushpa is a woman of some respect. Miss Pushpa has a smiling face. The speaker says that Miss Pushpa is always found smiling. She takes life in a happy way. The speaker also says that Miss Pushpa is kind. She is kind at heart too. She is popularly known for her kindness among many men and women. The speaker also talks about her family background. He says that she comes from a rich family. Miss Pushpa is also known for her helping tendency and good spirit. The speaker says that whenever someone approaches Pushpa, asking for help, she would never say no. She helps everyone at all times. The Use of Language in the Poem The poem right from its first stanza makes fun at the way we speak English. In the first stanza the speaker says that Miss Pushpa will depart in “two three days” instead of “two or three days.” Instead of saying that Miss Pushpa is kindhearted and gentle woman the speaker says that she is sweet both „internal‟ and „external‟. In the same stanza the speaker instead of saying that Miss Pushpa is a pleasant looking woman he says that she is “smiling and smiling even for no reason.” While giving her family background the speaker says that she come from a „high family‟ for saying „rich family‟. The speaker‟s deviation while talking about Surat shows the Indianism. He remembers his past, when he went to Surat to stay with one of his uncle‟s friend. “Just now only I will do”, is again a mistake committed by the speaker, when he attempts to say that Miss Pushpa would do things within minutes. Conclusion The speaker of this poem is not given a definite identity. We do not know whether it is male of female speaker. Nizim Ezekiel by hiding the identity of the speaker renders the mistakes to every Indian in general.

Page 2

JEJURI Arun Kolatkar About the poet Arun Balkrishna Kolatkar was a poet born on (1 November 1932 –and died 25 September 2004 ) from Maharashtra, India. Writing in both Marathi and English, his poems found humor in many everyday matters. His poetry had an influence on modern Marathi poets. Jejuri is the name of a series of 32 poems written in 1976 by Arun Kolatkar, an Indian poet who wrote in Marathi and English. Jejuri won the Commonwealth Prize in 1977. About the Jejuri Arun Kolatkar‟s poetry collection Jejuri reminds us of our connectedness. Claims about Jejuri range from “one of the great books of modern India” to its being the poetry equivalent of Rushdie‟s Midnight‟s Children. But the sad reality is that many literary-minded Indians haven‟t even heard of the poet or his work (including myself until some time back). So, what‟s the value of Jejuri for the Indian writing in English and for Indian literature in general is a debate I won‟t go into detail here. But the fact that I was unaware for such a long time of such a fine piece of modern Indian literature is a deeply humbling fact for me. So as I was saying Arun Kolatkar‟s poetry collection Jejuri reminds us of our connectedness. At the level of narration, symbolism, and affect, Jejuri is about reminding us how densely we‟re tethered to multiple beings and things in our lives. We‟re always attached to places for obvious material and sentimental reasons; such connections are discernible. But then there are many illusive ones, which require traveling back in time, retrieving the details that‟s faded/fading from our minds, searching cluelessly for that moment of original register, or paradoxically, not noticing the connection because it‟s so deeply ingrained with our reality. And we wonder that if this illusiveness could be pinned down and articulated, then the fragile impression of our connection could be bolstered to some extent. Jejuri is a project in that regard. Kolatkar probes connections not only as a skeptic but also as someone enchanted. And in that simultaneity lies the excitement of the place Jejuri, and Jejuri. Jejuri is a small pilgrimage town, not too far from Mumbai/Bombay, in the state of Maharashtra in Western India. As the Notes section of the book proclaims, this town is dedicated to the legacy of Khandoba, a popular local god who cuts across the caste barrier. Even more, this mythic figure had a Muslim wife and a Muslim name, Mallu Khan. The legends of Khandoba are numerous and so are his devotees. Hence, Jejuri‟s history largely derives from the tales of Khandoba, the legends his devotees have spun, and the hold the god has upon his devotees which has fueled the lore in the first place. Kolatkar writes in the poem “Scratch”: “there is no crop / other than god / and god is harvested here / around the year / and round the clock / out of the bad earth / and the hard rock…scratch a rock / and a legend springs.” And these legends, their copiousness, their free peddling by the Jejurians do not stop amusing Kolatkar as he asks the priest‟s young son, “do you really believe that story…” The answer is irrelevant because a believer is not going to turn a skeptic; not in Jejuri. The bonding between the believer and his/her god is cemented here. Miracle-wielding Khandoba is too good a catch for the needy and afflicted devotee; so why let a poet‟s skepticism play spoilsport? Here, the big issues of life, death, mystery, universe, and love are on the side of the devotee, while the poet only has reason. The lifestyle in Jejuri has a predictable rhythm. Complacently caught up in the monotony, its inhabitants take the routine for granted, like the legends around them, the hills, rocks, temples, ruins, and devotees/tourists. Is it a surprise then that the book Jejuri begins with the image of the sunrise and ends with the sunset? The chronology is respected since the poems seem to follow the timeline of the poet arriving in Jejuri in the first poem and leaving from the railway station in the last one. And in between, each poem seems to be linked to the next as the poet is strolling through the town and discovering it bit by bit. More or less this pattern is maintained, explicitly or implicitly. For example, one could speculate as the order of the Page 3

poems progresses that “The Bus” arrives in Jejuri, which is observed by “The Priest” and the poet disembarks and notices on his way to the temple features of the town like “Heart of Ruin”, “The Doorstep”, “Water Supply”, “The Door” until he arrives at “A Low Temple” etc. But the orderliness of sequence is synonymous with the ubiquitousness of shrines, temples, and scared places in Jejuri. Like time, the routineness of space is taken for granted here. And the mastery of Kolatkar lies in how slyly he undermines that predictability: “The door was open. / Manohar thought / it was one more temple…It isn‟t another temple, / he said, / it‟s just a cowshed.” Again, in the poem “Hills”, Kolatkar tries to point out this regularity: the ubiquitousness of shrines and legends equals the repetition of rocks and boulders on.

THE PRIEST An offering of heel and haunch on the cold altar of the culvert wall the priest waits. Is the bus a little late? The priest wonders. Will there be a puran poll in his plate? With a quick intake of testicles at the touch of the rough cut, dew drenched stone he wins his head in the sun to look at the long road winding out of sight with the evenlessness of the fortune line on a dead man's palm. 'the sun takes up the priest's head and pats his cheek familiarly like the village barber. The bit of betel nut turning over and over on his tongue is a mantra. It works. The bus is no more just a thought in his head. Ifs now a dot in the distance and under his lazy lizard stare it begins to grow slowly like a wart upon his nose. With a thud and a bump the bus takes a pothole as it rattles past the priest and paints his eyeballs blue. The bus goes round in a circle. Stops inside the bus station and stands purring softly in front of the priest. A catgrin on its face and a live, ready to eat pilgrim held between its teeth.

WATER SUPPLY a conduit pipe runs with the plinth turns a corner of the house stops dead in its tracks shoots straight up Page 4

keeps dose to the wall doubles back twists around and coms to an abrupt halt a brass mouse with a broken neck without ever learning, what chain of circumstances can bring an able bodied millstone to spend the rest of his life under a dry water tap

THE DOOR A prophet half brought down from the cross. A dangling martyr. Since one hinge broke the heavy medieval door hangs on one hinge alone. One corner drags in dust on the road. The other knocks against the high threshold. Like a memory that gets only sharper with the passage of time, the grain stands out on the wood as graphic in detail as a flayed mall of muscles who cannot find his way back to an anatomy book and is leaning against any old doorway to sober up like the local & milt. Hell with the hinge and damn the jamb. the door would have walked out long long ago if it weren‟t for that pair of shorts left to dry upon its shoulders.

CHAITANYA Come off it said Chaitanya to a stone in stone Language wipe the red paint off your face i don't think the colour suits you i mean what's wrong with being just a plain stone ill still bring you flowers you like the flowers of zendu don't you Page 5

i like them too AN OLD WOMAN An old woman grabs hold of your sleeve and tags along. She wants a fifty paise coin. She says she will take you to the horseshoe shrine. You've seen it already. She hobbles along anyway And tightens her grip on your shirt. She won't let you go. You know how old women are. They stick to you like a bun. You turn around and face her with an air of finality. You want to end the farce. When you hear her say. 'What else can an old woman do on hills as wretched as these?' You look right at the sky. Clear through the bullet hole, she has for her eyes. And as you look on the cracks that begin around her eyes spread beyond her skin. And the hills crack. And the temples crack. And the sky falls with a plate glass clatter around the shatter proof crone who stands alone. And you are reduced to so much small change in her hand.

THE PRIEST'S SON these five hills are the five demons that khandoba killed says the priest's son a young boy who comes along as your guide as the schools have vacations do you really believe that story you ask him he doesn't reply Page 6

but merely looks uncomfortable shrugs and looks away and happens to notice a quick wink of a movement in a scanty patch of scruffy dry grass burnt brown in the sun and says look there's a butterfly there

AJAMIL AND THE TIGERS The tiger people went to their king and said, 'We're starving. We've had nothing to eat. not a bite, for 15 days and 16 nights. Ajamil has got a new sheep dog. He cramps our style and won't let us get within a mile of meat.' That's shocking,' said the tiger king. 'Why didn't you come to see me before? Make preparations for a banquet. I'm gonna teach that sheep dog a lesson hell never forget' 'Hear hear,' said the tigers. 'Careful.' said the queen. But he was already gone. Alone into the darkness before the dawn. In an hour he was back, the good king. A black patch on his eye. His tail in a sling. And said, 'I've got it all planned now that I know the lie of the land. All of us will have to try. Well outnumber the son of a bitch. And this time there will be no hitch. Because this time I shall be leading the attack.' Quick as lightning the sheep dog was. He took them all in as prisoners of war, the 50 tigers and the tiger king, before they could get their paws on a single sheep. Page 7

They never had a chance. The dog was in 51 places all at once. He strung them all out in a daisy chain and flung them in front of his boss in one big heap. 'Nice dog you got there, Ajamil: said the tiger king. Looking a little ill and spitting out a tooth. 'But there's been a bit of misunderstanding. We could've wiped out your herd in one dean sweep. But we were not trying to creep up on your sheep. We feel that means are more important than ends. We were coming to see you as friends. And that's the truth.' The sheep dog was the type who had never told a lie in his life. He was built along simpler lines and he was simply disgusted. He kept on making frantic signs. But Ajamil, the good shepherd refused to meet his eyes and pretended to believe every single word of what the tiger king said. And seemed to be taken in by all the lies. Ajamil cut them loose and asked them all to stay for dinner. It was an offer the tigers couldn't refuse. And after the lamb chops and the roast, when Ajamil proposed they sign a long term friendship treaty. all the tigers roared, 'We couldn't agree with you more.' And swore they would be good friends all their lives as they put down the forks and the knives. Ajamil signed a pact with the tiger people and sent them back. Laden with gifts of sheep, leather jackets and halls of wool. Ajamil wasn't a fool. Like all good shepherds he knew that even tigers have got to eat some time. A good shepherd sees to it they do. He is free to play a flute all day as well fed tigers and fat sheep drink from the same pond With a full stomach for a common bond. Page 8

A SONG FOR A VAGHYA It tore in two when I took this yellow scarf from the sun. I know it's only a half but I'll throw it away when I've found a better one. I killed my mother for her skin. I must say it didn't take much to make this pouch I keep turmeric in. It's my job to carry this can of oil. Yours to see it's always full. But if I can't beg I'll have to steal. Is that a deal? Khandoba's temple rises with the day. But it must not fall with the night. I'll hold it up with a flame for a prop. Don't turn me away. I must have my oil, main. Give me a drop if you can't spare a grain. This instrument has one string. And one god awful itch. As I scratch it, it gives me just one pitch. But if it plays just the one note, who am I to complain when all I've got is just a one word song inside my throat? God is the word and I know it backwards. I know it as fangs inside my flanks. But I also know it as a lamb between my teeth, as a task of blood Upon my longue A this is the only song Ive always Sung. A SONG FOR A MURLI look the moon has come down to graze along the hill top you dare not ride off with it don't you see khandoba's brand on its flank Page 9

you horse thief look that's his name tattooed just below the left collar bone keep your hands off khandoba's woman you old lecher let's see the colour of your money first THE RESERVOIR There isn't a drop of water in the great reservoir the Peshwas built. There is nothing in it. Except a hundred years of silt. A LITTLE PILE OF STONES find a place where the ground is not too uneven and the wind not too strong put a stone on top of another find a third to rest on the two and so on choose each one with the others in mind each one just the right size the right weight if you choose your first stone well the kind you can build upon the stones will stand god bless you young woman may you be just as lucky as you are smart go home now with your husband may you find happiness together and may it last

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THE TEMPLE RAT The temple rat uncurls its tail from around the longer middle prong. Oozes halfway down the trident like a thick gob of black blood. Stops on the mighty shoulder of the warrior god for a quick look around. A ripple in the divine muscle. Scarce a glance at the fierce eyes and the war paint on the face of Malhari Martand, and it's gone. The temple rat blinks as it loops down the chain hung from the stone ceiling and its eyes shine among heavy metal links licked by highlights. It slips down a slope and looks brassily over the edge of the bigger bell at the green sparks shaking in the glass bangles massed in the hands of the teen age bride on her knees. crushing bananas on the top of the stone linga. And having noticed the trace of a smile on the priest's face. buried tinder a grey, week deep beard, the temple rat disappears in a corner of the sanctum just behind the big temple drum. Not a minute too soon. Because just then the bell springs into action.

A KIND OF A CROSS Tail tucked between its legs and legs tucked under a metal plated body, the bull calf sits on a pedestal in the temple courtyard. You stroke a horn. Thump him on the hump and look up at the strange instrument of torture that even the holy bull calf has turned his tail upon. Ifs a kind of crass that rises. Page 11

on creaky joints, above a stone platform. It's a kind of a cross with two cross bars you lie between and come apart, limb from limb. As the one with spikes and hooks stays where it is and the one with you on swings around. Hills and temples dance around. Bull calls and tortoises swim around. Constellations wheel overhead like vultures in one mad carousel. Except of course that they don't. It‟s illegal. It's the wrong time of the day for constellations anyway. No scrcandog diup of blood firebrigades down the good wood ten lancd with time and deepening grain. With a fingernail, you try to pry a rivet from the sirloin. And hurriedly, with the ball of a thumb, to smooth a dent from the brass rump.

THE CUPBOARD broken glass is held together with bits and pieces of an old yellowed newspaper each rectangle of the doorframe is an assemblage Insecure setsquares of glass Jagged silvers thrusting down precarious trapeziums the cupboard is lull of shelf upon shelf of gold gods in tidy rows you can see the golden gods beyond the strips of stock exchange quotations they look out at you from behind slashed editorials and promises of eternal youth you see a hand of gold behind opinion stiff with starch as one would expect Page 12

there is naturally a lock upon the door

THE BLUE HORSE The toothless singer opens her mouth. Shorts the circuits in her haywire throat. A shower of sparks flies off her half burnt tongue. With a face fallen in on itself and a black skin burnt blacker in the sun, the drummer goes blue in the face as he thumps and whacks the tambourine and joins the chorus in a keyless passion His pockmarked half brother twiddles, tweaks and twangs on the one string thing. Gods own children making music. You turn to the priest who has been good enough to arrange that bit of sacred cabaret at his own house and ask him, The singers sang of a blue horse. How is it then, that the picture on your wall shows a white one?' 'Looks blue to me.' says the priest, shifting a piece of betel nut from the left to the right of his mouth. And draws an end of a nutcracker along the underbelly of the noble animal. Picking on a shade of blue that many popular painters like to use to suggest shadow on an object otherwise white. The tambourine continues to beat its breast.

BETWEEN JEJURI AND THE RAILWAY STATION You leave the little temple town with its sixty three priests inside their sixty three houses huddled at the foot of the hill with its three hundred pillars. live hundred steps and eighteen arches. You pass the sixtyfourth house of the temple dancer who owes her prosperity to another skill. A skill the priest's son would rather not talk about. A house he has never stepped inside Page 13

and hopes he never will. You pass by the ruin of the temple but the resident bitch is nowhere around You pass by the Gorakshanath Hair Cutting Saloon. You pass by the Mhalsakant Cafe and the flour mill. And that's it. The end. You've left the town behind with a coconut in your hand, a priest's visiting card in your pocket and a few questions knocking in your head. You stop halfway between Jejuri on the one and the railway on the other band. You stop dead and stand still like a needle in a trance. take a needle that has struck a perfect balance between equal Scale with nothing left to add or shed. What has stopped you in your tracks and taken your breath away is the sight of a dozen cocks and hens a field of jowar in a kind of harvest dance. The craziest you've net seen. Where seven jump straight up to at tau four times their height as five come down with grain in their teaks And there you stand forgetting how silly you must look with a priest on your left shoulder as it were and a station master on soul right

THE RAILWAY STATION I : the indicator a wooden saint in need of paint the indicator has turned inward ten times over swallowed the names of all the railway stations, it knows removed its hands from its face and put them away in its pockets if it knows when the next train's due Page 14

it gives no clue the clock face adds its numerals the total is zero

2 : the station dog the spirit of the place lives inside the mangy body of the station dog doing penance for the last three hundred years under the tree of arrivals and departures the dog opens his right eye just long enough to look at you and see whether you're a man a demon a demigod or the eight armed railway timetable come to stroke him on the head with a healing hand and to take him to heaven the dog decides that day is not yet

4 : the station master the hooking clerk believes in the doctrine of the next train when conversation turns to time he takes his tongue hands it to you across the counter and directs you to a superior intelligence the two headed station master belongs to a sect that rejects every timetable not published in the year the track was laid as apocryphal but interprets the first timetable with a freedom that allows him to read every subsequent timetable between the lines of its text he keeps looking anxiously at the setting sun as if the sunset were a part of a secret ritual and he didn't want anything to go wrong with it at the last minute finally he nods like a stroke between a yes and a no Page 15

and says all timetables ever published along with all timetables yet to be published are simultaneously valid at any given time and on any given track insofar as all the timetables were inherent in the one printed when the track was laid and goes red in both his faces at once

5 : vows slaughter a goat before the clock smash a coconut on the railway track smear the indicator with the blood of a cock bathe the station master in milk and promise you will give a solid gold toy train to the booking clerk if only someone would tell you when the next train is due 6 : THE SETTING SUN the setting sun touches upon the horizon at a point where the rails like the parallels of a prophecy appear to meet the seting sun large as a wheel

The Pattern A checkerboard pattern some old men must have drawn yesterday with a piece of chalk on the back of the twenty foot tortoise smudges under the bare feet and gets fainter all the time as the children run.

Hills demons sand blasted shoulders bladed with shale demons hills cactus thrust up through ribs of rock hills Page 16

demons kneequartz lime stone loins demons hills cactus fang in sky meat hills demons vertebrated with rock cut steps demons hills sun stroked thighs of sand stone hills demons pelvic granite fallen archways demons.

Makarand Take my shirt off and go in there to do puja ? No thanks. Not me. But you go right ahead if that's what you want to do. Give me the matchbox before you go, will you ? I will be out in the courtyard where no one will mind it if I smoke.

The Horseshoe Shrine That nick in the rock is really a kick in the side of the hill. It's where a hoof struck Page 17

like a thunderbolt when Khandoba with the bride sidesaddle behind him on the blue horse jumped across the valley and the three went on from there like one spark fleeing from flint. To a home that waited on the other side of the hill like a hay stack.

The Door A prophet half brought down. from the cross a dangling martyr. since one hinge broke the heavy medievel door flangs on one hinge alone. one corner drags in dust on the road. the other knocks against the high threshold. like a memory that nly gets sharper. with the passage of time, the grain stands out on the wood. as graphic in detail as a flayed man of muscles hwo could not find his way back into the anatomy book. as is leaning against any old doorway to sober up like teh local drunk helll with the hinge and damn the jab the door would have walked out long long ago if it weren`t for that pairs of shorts Page 18

left to dry upon its shoulders.

Heart Of Ruin The roof comes down on Maruti's head. Nobody seems to mind. Least of all Maruti himself May be he likes a temple better this way. A mongrel bitch has found a place for herself and her puppies in the heart of the ruin. May be she likes a temple better this way. The bitch looks at you guardedly Past a doorway cluttered with broken tiles. The pariah puppies tumble over her. May be they like a temple better this way. The black eared puppy has gone a little too far. A tile clicks under its foot. It's enough to strike terror in the heart of a dung beetle and send him running for cover to the safety of the broken collection box that never did get a chance to get out from under the crushing weight of the roof beam. No more a place of worship this place is nothing less than the house of god.

A Low Temple A low temple keeps its gods in the dark. You lend a matchbox to the priest. One by one the gods come to light. Amused bronze. Smiling stone. Unsurprised. For a moment the length of a matchstick gesture after gesture revives and dies. Stance after lost stance is found and lost again. Who was that, you ask. Page 19

The eight-arm goddess, the priest replies. A sceptic match coughs. You can count. But she has eighteen, you protest. All the same she is still an eight-arm goddess to the priest. You come out in the sun and light a charminar. Children play on the back of the twenty-foot tortoise.

Yeshwant Rao Are you looking for a god? I know a good one. His name is Yeshwant Rao and he's one of the best. look him up when you are in Jejuri next. Of course he's only a second class god and his place is just outside the main temple. Outside even of the outer wall. As if he belonged among the tradesmen and the lepers. I've known gods prettier faced or straighter laced. Gods who soak you for your gold. Gods who soak you for your soul. Gods who make you walk on a bed of burning coal. Gods who put a child inside your wife. Or a knife inside your enemy. Gods who tell you how to live your life, double your money or triple your land holdings. Gods who can barely suppress a smile as you crawl a mile for them. Gods who will see you drown if you won't buy them a new crown. And although I'm sure they're all to be praised, they're either too symmetrical or too theatrical for my taste. Yeshwant Rao, mass of basalt, bright as any post box, the shape of protoplasm or king size lava pie thrown against the wall, without an arm, a leg Page 20

or even a single head. Yeshwant Rao. He's the god you've got to meet. If you're short of a limb, Yeshwant Rao will lend you a hand and get you back on your feet. Yeshwant Rao Does nothing spectacular. He doesn't promise you the earth Or book your seat on the next rocket to heaven. But if any bones are broken, you know he'll mend them. He'll make you whole in your body and hope your spirit will look after itself. He is merely a kind of a bone-setter. The only thing is, as he himself has no heads, hands and feet, he happens to understand you a little better.

Chaitanya Sweet as grapes are the stone of jejuri said chaitanya. He popped a stone in his mouth and spat out gods

The Doorstep That's no doorstep. its a pillar on the side. Yes thats what it is.

Chaitanya A herd of legends on a hill slope looked up from its grazing when chaitanya came in sight. the hills remained still when chaitanya was passing by a cowbell tinkled when he disappeared from view and the herd of legends returned to its grazing Page 21

The Butterfly There is no story behind it. It is split like a second. It hinges around itself. It has no future. It is pinned down to no past. It's a pun on the present. Its a little yellow butterfly. It has taken these wretched hills under its wings. Just a pinch of yellow, it opens before it closes and it closes before it o where is it?

The Manohar The door was open. Manohar thought it was one more temple. He looked inside. Wondering which god he was going to find. He quickly turned away when a wide eyed calf looked back at him. It isn't another temple, he said, it's just a cowshed.

Scratch What is god and what is stone the dividing line if it exists is very thin at jejuri and every other stone is god or his cousin there is no crop other than god Page 22

and god is harvested here around the year and round the clock out of the bad earth and the hard rock that giant hunk of rock the size of a bedroom is khandoba's wife turned to stone the crack that runs right across is the scar from his broadsword he struck her down with once in a fit of rage scratch a rock and a legend springs You've seen it already. She hobbles along anyway and tightens her grip on your shirt. She won't let you go. You know how old women are. They stick to you like a burr. You turn around and face her with an air of finality. You want to end the farce. When you hear her say, „What else can an old woman do on hills as wretched as these?' You look right at the sky. Clear through the bullet holes she has for her eyes. And as you look on the cracks that begin around her eyes spread beyond her skin. And the hills crack. And the temples crack. And the sky falls with a plateglass clatter Page 23

around the shatter proof crone who stands alone. And you are reduced to so much small change in her hand.

The Bus The tarpaulin flaps are buttoned down on the windows of the state transport bus. all the way up to jejuri. a cold wind keeps whipping and slapping a corner of tarpaulin at your elbow. you look down to the roaring road. you search for the signs of daybreak in what little light spills out of bus. your own divided face in the pair of glasses on an oldman`s nose is all the countryside you get to see. you seem to move continually forward. toward a destination just beyond the castemark beyond his eyebrows. outside, the sun has risen quitely it aims through an eyelet in the tarpaulin. and shoots at the oldman`s glasses. a sawed off sunbeam comes to rest gently against the driver`s right temple. the bus seems to change direction. at the end of bumpy ride with your own face on the either side when you get off the bus. you dont step inside the old man`s head.

Introduction Nissim Ezekiel with reference to his selected poems. This chapter will discuss Arun Kolatkar, who is a bilingual poet. In Jejuri he writes about his various observations about the things he comes across in his visit to Jejuri. The study of the original text is recommended. We are going to critically analyze his following poems from the text Jejuri: 1. 'The Door' 2. 'The Butterfly' 3. 'Between Jejuri and the Railway station'

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Background of Jejuri poems Jejuri is a village situated about 30 miles (48 km) from the city of Pune in the state of Maharashtra. At Jejuri there is a holy shrine of Khandoba to which hundreds of thousands of pilgrims from all sections of the Hindu community particularly from Maharashtra and North Maharashtra visit all through the year. Khandoba gradually evolved from his status of a folk God and has been accepted as a family God by Brahmins as well as non - Brahmins in Maharashtra. Khandoba is accepted as a protector God. It is believed that he can bestow wealth, health and children on his devotees. Like all protector Gods, Khandoba must be propitiated by making suitable offerings to him in his shrine at Jejuri. Theme of Jejuri poems Jejuri poems oscillate between faith and skepticism. In his plat and colloquial tone, Kolatkar ironically treats the parallel scenario reinforcing it with concrete imagery. Kolatkar's use of concrete imagery, subtle irony and symbolism reinforces the central theme of alienation and perception. The Door The poem is in three line stanzas and is a description of sundry objects that catch the narrator's attention. The object is seen on two levels: mundane and the sacred, religious. The narrator sees a plain, old dangling door, hanging on the hinge but describes it in terms of 'a prophet half brought down / from the cross' and 'a dangling martyr'. Thus the dilapidated condition of the door, perhaps suggests from the narrator's point of view, the decay of religion and religious practices. It is significant that the door should make the narrator think of Christ and crucifixion. The use of word 'medieval' situates Jejuri historically and suggests that what was sturdy and functional in the medieval age is now just a broken down, decaying pathetic object. The wood grain stands out because of the constant exposure to the sun, cold and dust. The narrator suggests that the door remembers the days when the tradition was alive. The poem evokes irreversible decay, degeneracy and squalidness of the place."The pair of shorts / left to dry upon its shoulders" is certainly no reason why the heavy door should not walk out. The image, thus, arouses the feeling that the dysfunctional objects continue their meaningless existence of irrelevance because they just cannot be anything else. The Butterfly 'The Butterfly' is a lovely lyric consisting of four stanzas of three lines each and a single line. The butterfly symbolizes life, sheer existence and joy of existence, something that can be accepted for what it is without a legend or myth to explain it. The two halves of the wings open and close quickly in a second. Also the body of the butterfly is whole and not broken like the hinge of the door in the poem 'The Door'. When a butterfly is pinned down, it is dead, a thing of the past like the many things in Jejuri. The word 'present' is used in two senses: the present time and a gift from life. The poet feels the lively butterfly takes under its wings the wretchedness of the sterile and dead hills. The butterfly is of the same color as of turmeric powder and celebrates life. Its quick movement is suggested by O (opens). The butterfly is gone even before the narrator can say - "opens". 'Just a pinch of yellow' is an expression that occurs repeatedly in the Khandoba legends. 'Chimutbhar bhandar' works like a magic. The narrator wants to suggest that the 'Tiny butterfly' is itself 'a magic'. Between Jejuri and the Railway Station The title of this poem is significant. The narrator is, as it were, poised between two worlds: the world of Jejuri and the world represented by the railway station; that world from which the narrator came and to which he must return after his brief visit to bewildering Jejuri. The text of this poem is so arranged as to make its impact on the reader by its physical appearance. If we simply look at the graphic shape of the poem, we feel that we are looking at one of those figures one finds in a Rorschach test or at the figure of an hour glass with its two compartments brought together by 'The end' (line 15). In the second part of the poem this order is broken down. That the narrator at that Page 25

moment belongs neither to Jejuri nor to the railway station is suggested by the 'up and down' movements of the cocks and hens. Like 'The Butterfly', this poem is again a celebration of life in contradiction with the arid, stagnant hoary tradition ridden Jejuri and equally mechanical and in a sense 'in - human' paraphernalia at the railway station. The narrator is aware that as he stands, 'still like a needle in a trance / like a needle that struck a perfect balance', he must look silly to those who belong comfortably and securely to either of the worlds. Words like 'little' or 'huddled' show the smallness or diminutive status of the temple down. Once again we note that in Jejuri the sacred and the profane exist side by side. The narrator sardonically notes that the house next to the priest's houses belongs to 'the temple dancer', a euphemism for a prostitute. The narrator, perhaps, wants to suggest also that the priests (supposedly connected with sacred duties) and 'the temple dancers' function in tendem to 'soak' the pilgrims. Note the reticence of the priest's son. Obviously the presence of the temple dancer's house is an irritant to him for it could also be a standing temptation for him - note that he 'hopes' he will never step inside her house. The narrator is obviously struck by the coexistence of the ancient as well as Indian names Gorakshanath and Mhalasakant - and the modern or English words - 'hair cutting saloon, 'café' etc. The reader will note that this feature in a colonized country has always attracted the writers in these countries who write in English for an English reading audience and who because of their western education and urbanization, find the coexistence of something deeply native with an English complement rather comic and sometimes ludicrous. We find a similar juxtaposition when the narrator carries a coconut in his hand, given to him after he performed the pooja - and the priest's visiting card in his pocket. The poem presents the two scales or pans i. e. Jejuri and the railway station. The repetition of the words 'like a needle „suggests the narrator's desperate attempt to find an exact verbal equivalence for the nearly incommunicable experience he is going through. The phrase 'harvest dance' evokes associations with fertility rites and hence celebrates the continuance of life. 'Craziest' is probably used in two senses: maddening, not making any sense and yet unlike the maddening crazy experience of Jejuri, this celebration of life makes a strange sense or it could be strange and unusual for an urbanite spectator who can never hope to see it in a city. The stillness of the narrator is the sanity of one who belongs neither to Jejuri nor to the railway station but to Chaitanya (life). Conclusion This chapter deals with Jejuri, which is a bunch of short poems and tells about the narrator's journey to a place of folk worship, covered in a single revolution of the sun. The place, the time and the narrator provide unity of a sort to the collection. The juxtaposition and the contrastive placing of the human, the natural and the animal, the graphic portraits of fellow - travelers and their experiences, the priest and his son, the beggar woman, Vaghya and Murali and their songs introduced for local color and the site of ruin that is Jejuri itself – all these contribute to a skillful patterning of details that claims to have a poetic logic of its own. The next chapter deals with Indian English Poetess, Kamala Das with reference to the selected poems from her poetry collection The Old Playhouse and other poems. Summary The recurring theme in Jejuri is Time. The entire sequence is framed between sun - rise and sun - set, the sun appearing in the poem from time to time as a significant central symbol. The other important theme is the very existence of life and the variety of forms it has. Jejuri celebrates life in all its varieties and the reverent openness to life in its livingness is one of the most endearing qualities of the poem. The poet presents through a special kind of consciousness of microcosm reflecting in some significant way the macrocosm of the universe. He also puts forth man's quest for his identity in this vast universe. In fact his journey to Jejuri is his journey towards eternity. The poem prescribed although represents three different themes, the common link between them is that they are the poet's account of experience at Jejuri.

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GITANJALI Rabindranath Tagore About the poet “Gitanjali” is one of Rabindranath Tagore‟s best known works for which he received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1913. Many of the verses in Gitanjali are beautiful prayers written after a gut-wrenchingly painful period in Rabindranath Tagore‟s life, during which he lost his father, wife, daughter and a son in quick succession. His unfathomable pain and unshaken devotion to God are captured in the moving proseverses of Gitanjali, which Tagore dedicated as “Song Offerings”. For a reader uninitiated in Tagore, it is our humble recommendation that they read the prose-verses of Gitanjali only after gaining familiarity with some of his other works. His books My Reminiscences, Glimpses of Bengal, Sadhana and Nationalism. Gitanjali: Spiritual Poems of Rabindranath Tagore - An e-book presentation by The Spiritual Bee In that way the reader will have gained a fuller perspective and a rich contextual background, to weight Tagore‟s words against. When one reads the works of Tagore, one detects a clear stream of spirituality and an intense love for Nature that flows through most of his books. It is no exaggeration that the more works of Tagore one reads, the more one falls in love with this simple and beautiful poet. He shone forth brightly his lamp of timeless wisdom of the East ⎯ that this Universe has been created out of pure love, and it is only our love for each other together with peace, justice and freedom that will sustain it. 1 THOU hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life. This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new. At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable 1 . Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill. 2 WHEN thou commandest me to sing it seems that my heart would break with pride; and I look to thy face, and tears come to my eyes. All that is harsh and dissonant in my life melts into one sweet harmony ⎯ and my adoration spreads wings like a glad bird on its flight across the sea. I know thou takest pleasure in my singing. I know that only as a singer I come before thy presence. I touch by the edge of the far spreading wing of my song thy feet which I could never aspire to reach. Drunk with the joy of singing I forget myself and call thee friend who art my lord. 3 I KNOW not how thou singest, my master! I ever listen in silent amazement. The light of thy music illumines the world. The life breath of thy music runs from sky to sky. The holy stream of thy music breaks through all stony obstacles and rushes on. My heart longs to join in thy song, but vainly struggles for a voice. I would speak, but speech breaks not into song, and I cry out baffled. Ah, thou hast made my heart captive in the endless meshes of thy music, my master! 4 LIFE of my life, I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowing that thy living touch is Page 27

upon all my limbs. I shall ever try to keep all untruths out from my thoughts, knowing that thou art that truth which has kindled the light of reason in my mind. I shall ever try to drive all evils away from my heart and keep my love in flower, knowing that thou hast thy seat in the inmost shrine of my heart. And it shall be my endeavour to reveal thee in my actions, knowing it is thy power gives me strength to act. 5 I ASK for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works that I have in hand I will finish afterwards. Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite, and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil. To-day the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove. Now it is time to sit quiet, face to face with thee, and to sing dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure. 6 PLUCK this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear lest it droop and drop into the dust. It may not find a place in thy garland, but honour it with a touch of pain from thy hand and pluck it. I fear lest the day end before I am aware, and the time of offering go by. Though its colour be not deep and its smell be faint, use this flower in thy service and pluck it while there is time. 7 MY song has put off her adornments. She has no pride of dress and decoration. Ornaments would mar our union; they would come between thee and me; their jingling would drown thy whispers. My poet's vanity dies in shame before thy sight. O master poet, I have sat down at thy feet. Only let me make my life simple and straight, like a flute of reed for thee to fill with music. 8 THE child who is decked with prince's robes and who has jewelled chains round his neck loses all pleasure in his play; his dress hampers him at every step. In fear that it may be frayed, or stained with dust he keeps himself from the world, and is afraid even to move. Mother, it is no gain, thy bondage of finery, if it keep one shut off from the healthful dust of the earth, if it rob one of the right of entrance to the great fair of common human life. 9 O FOOL, to try to carry thyself upon thy own shoulders! O beggar, to come to beg at thy own door! Leave all thy burdens on his hands who can bear all, and never look behind in regret. Thy desire at once puts out the light from the lamp it touches with its breath. It is unholy ⎯ take not thy gifts through its unclean hands. Accept only what is offered by sacred love. 10 HERE is thy footstool and there rest thy feet where live the poorest, and lowliest, and lost. When I try to bow to thee, my obeisance cannot reach down to the depth where thy feet rest among the poorest, and lowliest, and lost. Pride can never approach to where thou walkest in the clothes of the humble among the poorest, and lowliest, and lost. Page 28

My heart can never find its way to where thou keepest company with the companionless among the poorest, the lowliest, and the lost.

11 LEAVE this chanting and singing and telling of beads! Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut? Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee! He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the path-maker is breaking stones. He is with them in sun and in shower, and his garment is covered with dust. Put off thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil! Deliverance? Where is this deliverance to be found? Our master himself has joyfully taken upon him the bonds of creation; he is bound with us all for ever. Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense! What harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and stained? Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow. 12 THE time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long. I came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light, and pursued my voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet. It is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself, and that training is the most intricate which leads to the utter simplicity of a tune. The traveller has to knock at every alien door to come to his own, and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end. My eyes strayed far and wide before I shut them and said "Here art thou!" The question and the cry "Oh, where?" melt into tears of a thousand streams and deluge the world with the flood of the assurance "I am!" 13 THE song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart. The blossom has not opened; only the wind is sighing by. I have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice; only I have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house. The livelong 1 day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor; but the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house. I live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not yet. 14 MY desires are many and my cry is pitiful, but ever didst thou save me by hard refusals; and this strong mercy has been wrought into my life through and through. Day by day thou art making me worthy of the simple, great gifts that thou gavest to me unasked ⎯ this sky and the light, this body and the life and the mind ⎯ saving me from perils of overmuch desire. There are times when I languidly linger and times when I awaken and hurry in search of my goal; but cruelly thou hidest thyself from before me. Page 29

Day by day thou art making me worthy of thy full acceptance by refusing me ever and anon 1 , saving me from perils of weak, uncertain desire. 15 I AM here to sing thee songs. In this hall of thine I have a corner seat. In thy world I have no work to do; my useless life can only break out in tunes without a purpose. When the hour strikes for thy silent worship at dark temple of midnight, command me, my master, to stand before thee to sing. When in the morning air the golden harp is tuned, honour me, commanding my presence. 16 I HAVE had my invitation to this world's festival, and thus my life has been blessed. My eyes have seen and my ears have heard. It was my part at this feast to play upon my instrument, and I have done all I could. Now, I ask, has the time come at last when I may go in and see thy face and offer thee my silent salutation? 17 I AM only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands. That is why it is so late and why I have been guilty of such omissions. They come with their laws and their codes to bind me fast; but I evade them ever, for I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands. People blame me and call me heedless; I doubt not they are right in their blame. The market day is over and work is all done for the busy. Those who came to call me in vain have gone back in anger. I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands. 18 CLOUDS heap upon clouds and it darkens. Ah, love, why dost thou let me wait outside at the door all alone? In the busy moments of the noontide work I am with the crowd, but on this dark lonely day it is only for thee that I hope. If thou showest me not thy face, if thou leavest me wholly aside, I know not how I am to pass these long, rainy hours. I keep gazing on the far away gloom of the sky, and my heart wanders wailing with the restless wind. 19 IF thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and its head bent low with patience. The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky. Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests, and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves. 20 ON the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying, and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded. Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind. Page 30

That vague sweetness made my heart ache with longing and it seemed to me that it was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion. I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and that this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart. 21 I MUST launch out my boat. The languid hours pass by on the shore ⎯ Alas for me! The spring has done its flowering and taken leave. And now with the burden of faded futile flowers I wait and linger. The waves have become clamorous, and upon the bank in the shady lane the yellow leaves flutter and fall. What emptiness do you gaze upon! Do you not feel a thrill passing through the air with the notes of the far away song floating from the other shore? 22 IN the deep shadows of the rainy July, with secret steps, thou walkest, silent as night, eluding all watchers. To-day the morning has closed its eyes, heedless of the insistent calls of the loud east wind, and a thick veil has been drawn over the ever-wakeful blue sky. The woodlands have hushed their songs, and doors are all shut at every house. Thou art the solitary wayfarer in this deserted street. Oh my only friend, my best beloved, the gates are open in my house ⎯ do not pass by like a dream. 23 ART thou abroad on this stormy night on the journey of love, my friend? The sky groans like one in despair. I have no sleep to-night. Ever and again I open my door and look out on the darkness, my friend! I can see nothing before me. I wonder where lies thy path! By what dim shore of the ink-black river, by what far edge of the frowning forest, through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading thy course to come to me, my friend? 24 IF the day is done, if birds sing no more, if the wind has flagged tired, then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me, even as thou hast wrapt the earth with the coverlet of sleep and tenderly closed the petals of the drooping lotus at dusk. From the traveller, whose sack of provisions is empty before the voyage is ended, whose garment is torn and dust-laden, whose strength is exhausted, remove shame and poverty, and renew his life like a flower under the cover of thy kindly night. 25 IN the night of weariness let me give myself up to sleep without struggle, resting my trust upon thee. Let me not force my flagging spirit into a poor preparation for thy worship. It is thou who drawest the veil of night upon the tired eyes of the day to renew its sight in a fresher gladness of awakening. 26 HE came and sat by my side but I woke not. What a cursed sleep it was, O miserable me! He came when the night was still; he had his harp in his hands, and my dreams became resonant with its melodies. Page 31

Alas, why are my nights all thus lost? Ah, why do I ever miss his sight whose breath touches my sleep? 27 LIGHT, oh where is the light? Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! There is the lamp but never a flicker of a flame, ⎯ is such thy fate, my heart! Ah, death were better by far for thee! Misery knocks at thy door, and her message is that thy lord is wakeful, and he calls thee to thy love-tryst through the darkness of night. The sky is overcast with clouds and the rain is ceaseless. I know not what this is that stirs in me, ⎯ I know not its meaning. A moment's flash of lightning drags down a deeper gloom on my sight, and my heart gropes for the path to where the music of the night calls me. Light, oh where is the light! Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! It thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void. The night is black as a black stone. Let not the hours pass by in the dark. Kindle the lamp of love with thy life. 28 OBSTINATE are the trammels 1 , but my heart aches when I try to break them. Freedom is all I want, but to hope for it I feel ashamed I am certain that priceless wealth is in thee, and that thou art my best friend, but I have not the heart to sweep away the tinsel that fills my room. The shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death; I hate it, yet hug it in love. My debts are large, my failures great, my shame secret and heavy; yet when I come to ask for my good, I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted. 29 HE whom I enclose with my name is weeping in this dungeon. I am ever busy building this wall all around; and as this wall goes up into the sky day by day I lose sight of my true being in its dark shadow. I take pride in this great wall, and I plaster it with dust and sand lest a least hole should be left in this name; and for all the care I take I lose sight of my true being. 30 I CAME out alone on my way to my tryst. But who is this that follows me in the silent dark? I move aside to avoid his presence but I escape him not. He makes the dust rise from the earth with his swagger; he adds his loud voice to every word that I utter. He is my own little self, my lord, he knows no shame; but I am ashamed to come to thy door in his company. 31 "PRISONER, tell me, who was it that bound you?" "It was my master," said the prisoner. "I thought I could outdo everybody in the world in wealth and power, and I amassed in my own treasure-house the money due to my king. When sleep overcame me I lay upon the bed that was for my lord, and on waking up I found I was a prisoner in my own Treasure-house." 32 BY all means they try to hold me secure who love me in this world. But it is otherwise with thy love which is greater than theirs, and thou keepest me free. Lest I forget them they never venture to leave me alone. But day passes by after day Page 32

and thou art not seen. If I call not thee in my prayers, if I keep not thee in my heart, thy love for me still waits for my love. 33 WHEN it was day they came into my house and said, "We shall only take the smallest room here." They said, "We shall help you in the worship of your God and humbly accept only our own share of his grace"; and then they took their seat in a corner and they sat quiet and meek. But in the darkness of night I find they break into my sacred shrine, strong and turbulent, and snatch with unholy greed the offerings from God's altar. 34 LET only that little be left of me whereby I may name thee my all. Let only that little be left of my will whereby I may feel thee on every side, and come to thee in everything, and offer to thee my love every moment. Let only that little be left of me whereby I may never hide thee. Let only that little of my fetters be left whereby I am bound with thy will, and thy purpose is carried out in my life ⎯ and that is the fetter of thy love. 35 WHERE the mind is without fear and the head is held high; Where knowledge is free; Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls; Where words come out from the depth of truth; Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection; Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit; Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action ⎯ Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake. 36 THIS is my prayer to thee, my lord ⎯ strike, strike at the root of penury in my heart. Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows. Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service. Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before insolent might. Give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles. And give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love. 37 I THOUGHT that my voyage had come to its end at the last limit of my power, ⎯ that the path before me was closed, that provisions were exhausted and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity. But I find that thy will knows no end in me. And when old words die out on the tongue, new melodies break forth from the heart; and where the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders. 38 THAT I want thee, only thee ⎯ let my heart repeat without end. All desires that distract me, day and night, are false and empty to the core. As the night keeps hidden in its gloom the petition for light, even thus in the depth of my Page 33

unconsciousness rings the cry ⎯ I want thee, only thee. As the storm still seeks its end in peace when it strikes against peace with all its might, even thus my rebellion strikes against thy love and still its cry is ⎯ I want thee, only thee. 39 WHEN the heart is hard and parched up, come upon me with a shower of mercy. When grace is lost from life, come with a burst of song. When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest. When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner, break open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king. When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, thou holy one, thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder. 40 THE rain has held back for days and days, my God, in my arid heart. The horizon is fiercely naked ⎯ not the thinnest cover of a soft cloud, not the vaguest hint of a distant cool shower. Send thy angry storm, dark with death, if it is thy wish, and with lashes of lightning startle the sky from end to end. But call back, my lord, call back this pervading silent heat, still and keen and cruel, burning the heart with dire despair. Let the cloud of grace bend low from above like the tearful look of the mother on the day of the father's wrath. 41 WHERE dost thou stand behind them all, my lover, hiding thyself in the shadows? They push thee and pass thee by on the dusty road, taking thee for naught. I wait here weary hours spreading my offerings for thee, while passers by come and take my flowers, one by one, and my basket is nearly empty. The morning time is past, and the noon. In the shade of evening my eyes are drowsy with sleep. Men going home glance at me and smile and fill me with shame. I sit like a beggar maid, drawing my skirt over my face, and when they ask me, what it is I want, I drop my eyes and answer them not. Oh, how, indeed, could I tell them that for thee I wait, and that thou hast promised to come. How could I utter for shame that I keep for my dowry this poverty. Ah, I hug this pride in the secret of my heart. I sit on the grass and gaze upon the sky and dream of the sudden splendour of thy coming ⎯ all the lights ablaze, golden pennons flying over thy car, and they at the roadside standing agape, when they see thee come down from thy seat to raise me from the dust, and set at thy side this ragged beggar girl a-tremble 1 with shame and pride, like a creeper in a summer breeze. But time glides on and still no sound of the wheels of thy chariot. Many a procession passes by with noise and shouts and glamour of glory. Is it only thou who wouldst stand in the shadow silent and behind them all? And only I who would wait and weep and wear out my heart in vain longing? 42 EARLY in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat, only thou and I, and never a soul in the world would know of this our pilgrimage to no country and to no end. Page 34

In that shoreless ocean, at thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies, free as waves, free from all bondage of words. Is the time not come yet? Are there works still to do? Lo, the evening has come down upon the shore and in the fading light the seabirds come flying to their nests. Who knows when the chains will be off, and the boat, like the last glimmer of sunset, vanish into the night? 43 THE day was when I did not keep myself in readiness for thee; and entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common crowd, unknown to me, my king, thou didst press the signet of eternity upon many a fleeting moment of my life. And to-day when by chance I light upon them and see thy signature, I find they have lain scattered in the dust mixed with the memory of joys and sorrows of my trivial days forgotten. Thou didst not turn in contempt from my childish play among dust, and the steps that I heard in my playroom are the same that are echoing from star to star. 44 THIS is my delight, thus to wait and watch at the wayside where shadow chases light and the rain comes in the wake of the summer. Messengers, with tidings from unknown skies, greet me and speed along the road. My heart is glad within, and the breath of the passing breeze is sweet. From dawn till dusk I sit here before my door, and I know that of a sudden the happy moment will arrive when I shall see. In the meanwhile I smile and I sing all alone. In the meanwhile the air is filling with the perfume of promise. 45 HAVE you not heard his silent, steps? He comes, comes, ever comes. Every moment and every age, every day and every night he comes, comes, ever comes. Many a song have I sung in many a mood of mind, but all their notes have always proclaimed, "He comes, comes, ever comes." In the fragrant days of sunny April through the forest path he comes, comes, ever comes. In the rainy gloom of July nights on the thundering chariot of clouds he comes, comes, ever comes. In sorrow after sorrow it is his steps that press upon my heart, and it is the golden touch of his feet that makes my joy to shine. 46 I KNOW not from what distant time thou art ever coming nearer to meet me. Thy sun and stars can never keep thee hidden from me for aye 1 . In many a morning and eve thy footsteps have been heard and thy messenger has come within my heart and called me in secret. I know not why to-day my life is all astir, and a feeling of tremulous joy is passing through my heart. It is as if the time were come to wind up my work, and I feel in the air a faint smell of thy sweet presence. 47 THE night is nearly spent waiting for him in vain. I fear lest in the morning he suddenly come to my door when I have fallen asleep wearied out. Oh friends, leave the way open Page 35

to him ⎯ forbid him not. If the sound of his steps does not wake me, do not try to rouse me, I pray. I wish not to be called from my sleep by the clamorous choir of birds, by the riot of wind at the festival of morning light. Let me sleep undisturbed even if my lord comes of a sudden to my door. Ah, my sleep, precious sleep, which only waits for his touch to vanish. Ah, my closed eyes that would open their lids to the light of his smile when he stands before me like a dream emerging from darkness of sleep. Let him appear before my sight as the first of all lights and all forms. The first thrill of joy to my awakened soul let it come from his glance. And let my return to myself be immediate return to him. 48 THE morning sea of silence broke into ripples of bird songs; and the flowers were all merry by the roadside; and the wealth of gold was scattered through the rift of the clouds while we busily went on our way and paid no heed. We sang no glad songs nor played; we went not to the village for barter; we spoke not a word nor smiled; we lingered not on the way. We quickened our pace more and more as the time sped by. The sun rose to the mid sky and doves cooed in the shade. Withered leaves danced and whirled in the hot air of noon. The shepherd boy drowsed and dreamed in the shadow of the banyan tree, and I laid myself down by the water and stretched my tired limbs on the grass. My companions laughed at me in scorn; they held their heads high and hurried on; they never looked back nor rested; they vanished in the distant blue haze. They crossed many meadows and hills, and passed through strange, far-away countries. All honour to you, heroic host of the interminable path! Mockery and reproach pricked me to rise, but found no response in me. I gave myself up for lost in the depth of a glad humiliation ⎯ in the shadow of a dim delight. The repose of the sun-embroidered green gloom slowly spread over my heart. I forgot for what I had travelled, and I surrendered my mind without struggle to the maze of shadows and songs. At last, when I woke from my slumber and opened my eyes, I saw thee standing by me, flooding my sleep with thy smile. How I had feared that the path was long and wearisome, and the struggle to reach thee was hard! 49 YOU came down from your throne and stood at my cottage door. I was singing all alone in a corner, and the melody caught your ear. You came down and stood at my cottage door. Masters are many in your hall, and songs are sung there at all hours. But the simple carol of this novice struck at your love. One plaintive little strain mingled with the great music of the world, and with a flower for a prize you came down and stopped at my cottage door. 50 I HAD gone a-begging from door to door in the village path, when thy golden chariot appeared in the distance like a gorgeous dream and I wondered who was this King of all kings! My hopes rose high and me thought my evil days were at an end, and I stood waiting for alms to be given unasked and for wealth scattered on all sides in the dust. Page 36

The chariot stopped where I stood. Thy glance fell on me and thou earnest down with a smile. I felt that the luck of my life had come at last. Then of a sudden thou didst hold out thy right hand and say "What hast thou to give to me?" Ah, what a kingly jest was it to open thy palm to a beggar to beg! I was confused and stood undecided, and then from my wallet I slowly took out the least little grain of corn and gave it to thee. But how great my surprise when at the day's end I emptied my bag on the floor to find a least little grain of gold among the poor heap. I bitterly wept and wished that I had had the heart to give thee my all. 51 THE night darkened. Our day's works had been done. We thought that the last guest had arrived for the night and the doors in the village were all shut. Only some said, The king was to come. We laughed and said "No, it cannot be!" It seemed there were knocks at the door and we said it was nothing but the wind. We put out the lamps and lay down to sleep. Only some said, "It is the messenger!" We laughed and said "No, it must be the wind!" There came a sound in the dead of the night. We sleepily thought it was the distant thunder. The earth shook, the walls rocked, and it troubled us in our sleep. Only some said, it was the sound of wheels. We said in a drowsy murmur, "No, it must be the rumbling of clouds!" The night was still dark when the drum sounded. The voice came “Wake up! Delay not! "We pressed our hands on our hearts and shuddered with fear. Some said, "Lo, there is the king's flag!" We stood up on our feet and cried "There is no time for delay!" The king has come but where are lights, where are wreaths? Where is the throne to seat him? Oh, shame! Oh utter shame! Where is the hall, the decorations? Some one has said, "Vain is this cry! Greet him with empty hands, lead him into thy rooms all bare!" Open the doors, let the conch-shells be sounded! In the depth of the night has come the king of our dark, dreary house. The thunder roars in the sky. The darkness shudders with lightning. Bring out thy tattered piece of mat and spread it in the courtyard. With the storm has come of a sudden our king of the fearful night. 52 I THOUGHT I should ask of thee ⎯ but I dared not ⎯ the rose wreath thou hadst on thy neck. Thus I waited for the morning, when thou didst depart, to find a few fragments on the bed. And like a beggar I searched in the dawn only for a stray petal or two. Ah me, what is it I find? What token left of thy love? It is no flower, no spices, no vase of perfumed water. It is thy mighty sword, flashing as a flame, heavy as a bolt of thunder. The young light of morning comes through the window and spreads itself upon thy bed. The morning bird twitters and asks, "Woman, what hast thou got?" No, it is no flower, nor spices, nor vase of perfumed water ⎯ it is thy dreadful sword. I sit and muse in wonder, what gift is this of thine. I can find no place where to hide it. I am ashamed to wear it, frail as I am, and it hurts me when I press it to my bosom. Yet shall I bear in my heart this honour of the burden of pain, this gift of thine. From now there shall be no fear left for me in this world, and thou shalt be victorious in all my strife. Thou hast left death for my companion and I shall crown him with my life. Thy sword is with me to cut asunder my bonds, and there shall be no fear left for me in the world. From now I leave off all petty decorations. Lord of my heart, no more shall there be for me waiting and weeping in corners, no more coyness and sweetness of demeanour. Page 37

Thou hast given me thy sword for adornment. No more doll's decorations for me! 53 BEAUTIFUL is thy wristlet, decked with stars and cunningly wrought in myriad-coloured jewels. But more beautiful to me thy sword with its curve of lightning like the outspread wings of the divine bird of Vishnu, perfectly poised in the angry red light of the sunset. It quivers like the one last response of life in ecstasy of pain at the final stroke of death; it shines like the pure flame of being burning up earthly sense with one fierce flash. Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with starry gems; but thy sword, O lord of thunder, is wrought with uttermost beauty, terrible to behold or to think of. 54 I ASKED nothing from thee; I uttered not my name to thine ear. When thou took'st thy leave I stood silent. I was alone by the well where the shadow of the tree fell aslant, and the women had gone home with their brown earthen pitchers full to the brim. They called me and shouted, "Come with us, the morning is wearing on to noon." But I languidly lingered awhile lost in the midst of vague musings. I heard not thy steps as thou camest. Thine eyes were sad when they fell on me; thy voice was tired as thou spokest low ⎯ "Ah, I am a thirsty traveller." I started up from my day-dreams and poured water from my jar on thy joined palms. The leaves rustled overhead; the cuckoo sang from the unseen dark, and perfume of babla flowers came from the bend of the road. I stood speechless with shame when my name thou didst ask. Indeed, what had I done for thee to keep me in remembrance? But the memory that I could give water to thee to allay thy thirst will cling to my heart and enfold it in sweetness. The morning hour is late, the bird sings in weary notes, neem leaves rustle overhead and I sit and think and think. 55 LANGUOR is upon your heart and the slumber is still on your eyes. Has not the word come to you that the flower is reigning in splendour among thorns? Wake, oh awaken! Let not the time pass in vain! At the end of the stony path, in the country of virgin solitude my friend is sitting all alone. Deceive him not. Wake, oh awaken! What if the sky pants and trembles with the heat of the midday sun ⎯ what if the burning sand spreads its mantle of thirst ⎯ Is there no joy in the deep of your heart? At every footfall of yours, will not the harp of the road break out in sweet music of pain? 56 THUS it is that thy joy in me is so full. Thus it is that thou hast come down to me. O thou lord of all heavens, where would be thy love if I were not? Thou hast taken me as thy partner of all this wealth. In my heart is the endless play of thy delight. In my life thy will is ever taking shape. And for this, thou who art the King of kings hast decked thyself in beauty to captivate my heart. And for this thy love loses itself in the love of thy lover, and there art thou seen in the perfect union of two. 57 LIGHT, my light, the world-filling light, the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light! Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life; the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth. Page 38

The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light. Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light. The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling, and it scatters gems in profusion. Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure. The heaven's river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad. 58 LET all the strains of joy mingle in my last song ⎯ the joy that makes the earth flow over in the riotous excess of the grass, the joy that sets the twin brothers, life and death, dancing over the wide world, the joy that sweeps in with the tempest, shaking and waking all life with laughter, the joy that sits still with its tears on the open red lotus of pain, and the joy that throws everything it has upon the dust, and knows not a word. 59 YES, I know, this is nothing but thy love, O beloved of my heart ⎯ this golden light that dances upon the leaves, these idle clouds sailing across the sky, this passing breeze leaving its coolness upon my forehead. The morning light has flooded my eyes ⎯ this is thy message to my heart. Thy face is bent from above, thy eyes look down on my eyes, and my heart has touched thy feet. 60 ON the seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances. They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds. They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets. The sea surges up with laughter and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. Deathdealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships get wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children. 61 THE sleep that flits on baby's eyes ⎯ does anybody know from where it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms, there hang two timid buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby's eyes. The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps ⎯ does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning ⎯ the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps. The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs ⎯ does anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love ⎯ the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on baby's limbs. Page 39

62 WHEN I bring to you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints ⎯ when I give coloured toys to you, my child. When I sing to make you dance I truly know why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth ⎯ when I sing to make you dance. When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands I know why there is honey in the cup of the flower and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice ⎯ when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands. When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling, I surely understand what the pleasure is that streams from the sky in morning light, and what delight that is which the summer breeze brings to my body ⎯ when I kiss you to make you smile. 63 THOU hast made me known to friends whom I knew not. Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own. Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger. I am uneasy at heart when I have to leave my accustomed shelter; I forget that there abides the old in the new, and that there also thou abidest. Through birth and death, in this world or in others, wherever thou leadest me it is thou, the same, the one companion of my endless life who ever linkest my heart with bonds of joy to the unfamiliar. When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then no door is shut. Oh, grant me my prayer that I may never lose the bliss of the touch of the one in the play of the many. 64 ON the slope of the desolate river among tall grasses I asked her, "Maiden, where do you go shading your lamp with your mantle? My house is all dark and lonesome ⎯ lend me your light!" She raised her dark eyes for a moment and looked at my face through the dusk. "I have come to the river," she said, "to float my lamp on the stream when the daylight wanes in the west." I stood alone among tall grasses and watched the timid flame of her lamp uselessly drifting in the tide. In the silence of gathering night I asked her, "Maiden, your lights are all lit ⎯ then where do you go with your lamp? My house is all dark and lonesome, ⎯ lend me your light.” She raised her dark eyes on my face and stood for a moment doubtful. "I have come," she said at last, "to dedicate my lamp to the sky." I stood and watched her light uselessly burning in the void. In the moonless gloom of midnight I asked her, "Maiden, what is your quest holding the lamp near your heart? My house is all dark and lonesome, ⎯ lend me your light." She stopped for a minute and thought and gazed at my face in the dark. "I have brought my light," she said, "to join the carnival of lamps." I stood and watched her little lamp uselessly lost among lights. 65 WHAT divine drink wouldst thou have, my God, from this overflowing cup of my life? My poet, is it thy delight to see thy creation through my eyes and to stand at the portals of my ears silently to listen to thine own eternal harmony? Thy world is weaving words in my mind and thy joy is adding music to them. Thou givest Page 40

thyself to me in love and then feelest thine own entire sweetness in me. 66 SHE who ever had remained in the depth of my being, in the twilight of gleams and of glimpses; she who never opened her veils in the morning light, will be my last gift to thee, my God, folded in my final song. Words have wooed yet failed to win her; persuasion has stretched to her its eager arms in vain. I have roamed from country to country keeping her in the core of my heart, and around her have risen and fallen the growth and decay of my life. Over my thoughts and actions, my slumbers and dreams, she reigned yet dwelled alone and apart. Many a man knocked at my door and asked for her and turned away in despair. There was none in the world who ever saw her face to face, and she remained in her loneliness waiting for thy recognition. 67 THOU art the sky and thou art the nest as well. O thou beautiful, there in the nest it is thy love that encloses the soul with colours and sounds and odours. There comes the morning with the golden basket in her right hand bearing the wreath of beauty, silently to crown the earth. And there comes the evening over the lonely meadows deserted by herds, through trackless paths, carrying cool draughts of peace in her golden pitcher from the western ocean of rest. But there, where spreads the infinite sky for the soul to take her flight in, reigns the stainless white radiance. There is no day nor night, nor form nor colour, and never, never a word. 68 THY sunbeam comes upon this earth of mine with arms outstretched and stands at my door the livelong 1 day to carry back to thy feet clouds made of my tears and sighs and songs. With fond delight thou wrappest about thy starry breast that mantle of misty cloud, turning it into numberless shapes and folds and colouring it with hues ever changing. It is so light and so fleeting, tender and tearful and dark, that is why thou lovest it, O thou spotless and serene. And that is why it may cover thy awful white light with its pathetic shadows. 69 THE same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers. It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow. I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment. 70 IS it beyond thee to be glad with the gladness of this rhythm? To be tossed and lost and broken in the whirl of this fearful joy? All things rush on, they stop not, they look not behind, no power can hold them back, they rush on. Keeping steps with that restless, rapid music, seasons come dancing and pass away ⎯ Page 41

colours, tunes, and perfumes pour in endless cascades in the abounding joy that scatters and gives up and dies every moment. 71 THAT I should make much of myself and turn it on all sides, thus casting coloured shadows on thy radiance ⎯ such is thy maya. Thou settest a barrier in thine own being and then callest thy severed self in myriad notes. This thy self-separation has taken body in me. The poignant song is echoed through all the sky in many-coloured tears and smiles, alarms and hopes; waves rise up and sink again, dreams break and form. In me is thy own defeat of self. This screen that thou hast raised is painted with innumerable figures with the brush of the night and the day. Behind it thy seat is woven in wondrous mysteries of curves, casting away all barren lines of straightness. The great pageant of thee and me has overspread the sky. With the tune of thee and me all the air is vibrant, and all ages pass with the hiding and seeking of thee and me. 72 HE it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches. He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain. He it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself. Days come and ages pass, and it is ever he who moves my heart in many a name, in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of sorrow. 73 DELIVERANCE is not for me in renunciation. I feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight. Thou ever pourest for me the fresh draught of thy wine of various colours and fragrance, filling this earthen vessel to the brim. My world will light its hundred different lamps with thy flame and place them before the altar of thy temple. No, I will never shut the doors of my senses. The delights of sight and hearing and touch will bear thy delight. 74 THE day is no more, the shadow is upon the earth. It is time that I go to the stream to fill my pitcher. The evening air is eager with the sad music of the water. Ah, it calls me out into the dusk. In the lonely lane there is no passer by, the wind is up, the ripples are rampant in the river. I know not if I shall come back home. I know not whom I shall chance to meet. There at the fording in the little boat the unknown man plays upon his lute. 75 THY gifts to us mortals fulfil all our needs and yet run back to thee un-diminished. The river has its everyday work to do and hastens through fields and hamlets; yet its incessant stream winds towards the washing of thy feet. The flower sweetens the air with its perfume; yet its last service is to offer itself to thee. Thy worship does not impoverish the world. From the words of the poet men take what meanings please them; yet their last meaning points to thee. 76 DAY after DAY, O lord of my life, shall I stand before thee face to face? With folded hands, O lord of all worlds, shall I stand before thee face to face? Page 42

Under thy great sky in solitude and silence, with humble heart shall I stand before thee face to face? In this laborious world of thine, tumultuous with toil and with struggle, among hurrying crowds shall I stand before thee face to face? And when my work shall be done in this world, O King of kings, alone and speechless shall I stand before thee face to face? 77 I KNOW thee as my God and stand apart ⎯ I do not know thee as my own and come closer. I know thee as my father and bow before thy feet ⎯ I do not grasp thy hand as My friend's. I stand not where thou comest down and ownest thyself as mine, there to clasp thee to my heart and take thee as my comrade. Thou art the Brother amongst my brothers, but I heed them not, I divide not my earnings with them, thus sharing my all with thee. In pleasure and in pain I stand not by the side of men, and thus stand by thee. I shrink to give up my life, and thus do not plunge into the great waters of life. 78 WHEN the creation was new and all the stars shone in their first splendour, the gods held their assembly in the sky and sang "Oh, the picture of perfection! The joy unalloyed!" But one cried of a sudden ⎯ "It seems that somewhere there is a break in the chain of light and one of the stars has been lost." The golden string of their harp snapped, their song stopped, and they cried in dismay ⎯ "Yes, that lost star was the best, she was the glory of all heavens!" From that day the search is unceasing for her, and the cry goes on from one to the other that in her the world has lost its one joy! Only in the deepest silence of night the stars smile and whisper among themselves ⎯ "Vain is this seeking! Unbroken perfection is over all!" 79 IF it is not my portion to meet thee in this my life then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight ⎯ let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours. As my days pass in the crowded market of this world and my hands grow full with the daily profits, let me ever feel that I have gained nothing ⎯ let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours. When I sit by the roadside, tired and panting, when I spread my bed low in the dust, let me ever feel that the long journey is still before me ⎯ let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours. When my rooms have been decked out and the flutes sound and the laughter there is loud, let me ever feel that I have not invited thee to my house ⎯ let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours. 80 I AM like a remnant of a cloud of autumn uselessly roaming in the sky, O my sun everglorious! Thy touch has not yet melted my vapour, making me one with thy light, and thus I count months and years separated from thee. If this be thy wish and if this be thy play, then take this fleeting emptiness of mine, paint it with colours, gild it with gold, float it on the wanton wind and spread it in varied wonders. Page 43

And again when it shall be thy wish to end this play at night, I shall melt and vanish away in the dark, or it may be in a smile of the white morning, in a coolness of purity transparent. 81 ON many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. But it is never lost, my lord. Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands. Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness. I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased. In the morning I woke up and found my garden full with wonders of flowers 82 TIME is endless in thy hands, my lord. There is none to count thy minutes. Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers. Thou knowest how to wait. Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower. We have no time to lose, and having no time we must scramble for our chances. We are too poor to be late. And thus it is that time goes by while I give it to every querulous 1 man who claims it, and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last. At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut; but I find that yet there is time. 83 MOTHER, I shall weave a chain of pearls for thy neck with my tears of sorrow. The stars have wrought their anklets of light to deck thy feet, but mine will hang upon thy breast. Wealth and fame come from thee and it is for thee to give or to withhold them. But this my sorrow is absolutely mine own, and when I bring it to thee as my offering thou rewardest me with thy grace. 84 IT is the pang of separation that spreads throughout the world and gives birth to shapes innumerable in the infinite sky. It is this sorrow of separation that gazes in silence all night from star to star and becomes lyric among rustling leaves in rainy darkness of July. It is this overspreading pain that deepens into loves and desires, into sufferings and joys in human homes; and this it is that ever melts and flows in songs through my poet's heart. 85 WHEN the warriors came out first from their master's hall, where had they hid their power? Where were their armour and their arms? They looked poor and helpless, and the arrows were showered upon them on the day they came out from their master's hall. When the warriors marched back again to their master's hall where did they hide their power? They had dropped the sword and dropped the bow and the arrow; peace was on their foreheads, and they had left the fruits of their life behind them on the day they marched back again to their master's hall. 86 DEATH, thy servant, is at my door. He has crossed the unknown sea and brought thy call to my home. The night is dark and my heart is fearful yet I will take up the lamp, open my gates and bow to him my welcome. It is thy messenger who stands at my door. I will worship him with folded hands, and with tears. I will worship him placing at his feet Page 44

the treasure of my heart. He will go back with his errand done, leaving a dark shadow on my morning; and in my desolate home only my forlorn self will remain as my last offering to thee. 87 IN desperate hope I go and search for her in all the corners of my room; I find her not. My house is small and what once has gone from it can never be regained. But infinite is thy mansion, my lord, and seeking her I have come to thy door. I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky and I lift my eager eyes to thy face. I have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish ⎯ no hope, no happiness, no vision of a face seen through tears. Oh, dip my emptied life into that ocean, plunge it into the deepest fullness. Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch in the allness of the universe. 88 DEITY of the ruined temple! The broken strings of Vina sing no more your praise. The bells in the evening proclaim not your time of worship. The air is still and silent about you. In your desolate dwelling comes the vagrant spring breeze. It brings the tidings of flowers ⎯ the flowers that for your worship are offered no more. Your worshipper of old wanders ever longing for favour still refused. In the eventide, when fires and shadows mingle with the gloom of dust, he wearily comes back to the ruined temple with hunger in his heart. Many a festival day comes to you in silence, deity of the ruined temple. Many a night of worship goes away with lamp unlit. Many new images are built by masters of cunning art and carried to the holy stream of oblivion when their time is come. Only the deity of the ruined temple remains unworshipped in deathless neglect. 89 NO more noisy, loud words from me ⎯ such is my master's will. Henceforth I deal in whispers. The speech of my heart will be carried on in murmurings of a song. Men hasten to the King's market. All the buyers and sellers are there. But I have my untimely leave in the middle of the day, in the thick of work. Let then the flowers come out in my garden, though it is not their time and let the midday bees strike up their lazy hum. Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him; and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence! 90 ON the day when death will knock at thy door what wilt thou offer to him? Oh, I will set before my guest the full vessel of my life ⎯ I will never let him go with empty hands. All the sweet vintage of all my autumn days and summer nights, all the earnings and gleanings of my busy life will I place before him at the close of my days when death will knock at my door. 91 O THOU the last fulfilment of life, Death, my death, come and whisper to me! Day after day have I kept watch for thee; for thee have I borne the joys and pangs of life. All that I am, that I have, that I hope and all my love have ever flowed towards thee in Page 45

depth of secrecy. One final glance from thine eyes and my life will be ever thine own. The flowers have been woven and the garland is ready for the bridegroom. After the wedding the bride shall leave her home and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night. 92 I KNOW that the day will come when my sight of this earth shall be lost, and life will take its leave in silence, drawing the last curtain over my eyes. Yet stars will watch at night, and morning rise as before, and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains. When I think of this end of my moments, the barrier of the moments breaks and I see by the light of death thy world with its careless treasures. Rare is its lowliest seat, rare is its meanest of lives. Things that I longed for in vain and things that I got ⎯ let them pass. Let me but truly possess the things that I ever spurned and overlooked. 98 I HAVE got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers! I bow to you all and take my departure. Here I give back the keys of my door ⎯ and I give up all claims to my house. I only ask for last kind words from you. We were neighbours for long, but I received more than I could give. Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out. A summons has come and I am ready for my journey. 94 AT this time of my parting, wish me good luck, my friends! The sky is flushed with the dawn and my path lies beautiful. Ask not what I have with me to take there. I start on my journey with empty hands and expectant heart. I shall put on my wedding garland. Mine is not the red-brown dress of the traveller, and though there are dangers on the way I have no fear in my mind. The evening star will come out when my voyage is done and the plaintive notes of the twilight melodies be struck up from the King's gateway. 95 I WAS not aware of the moment when I first crossed the threshold of this life. What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery like a bud in the forest at midnight! When in the morning I looked upon the light I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world, that the inscrutable without name and form had taken me in its arms in the form of my own mother. Even so, in death the same unknown will appear as ever known to me. And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well. The child cries out when from the right breast the mother takes it away, in the very next moment to find in the left one its consolation. 96 WHEN I go from hence let this be my parting word, that what I have seen is unsurpassable. I have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus that expands on the ocean of light, and thus am I blessed ⎯ let this be my parting word. In this playhouse of infinite forms I have had my play and here have I caught sight of him that is formless. My whole body and my limbs have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch; and if the end comes here, let it come ⎯ let this be my parting word. Page 46

97 WHEN my play was with thee I never questioned who thou wert. I knew nor shyness nor fear, my life was boisterous. In the early morning thou wouldst call me from my sleep like my own comrade and lead me running from glade to glade. On those days I never cared to know the meaning of songs thou sangest to me. Only my voice took up the tunes, and my heart danced in their cadence. Now, when the playtime is over, what is this sudden sight that is come upon me? The world with eyes bent upon thy feet stands in awe with all its silent stars. 98 I WILL deck thee with trophies, garlands of my defeat. It is never in my power to escape unconquered. I surely know my pride will go to the wall, my life will burst its bonds in exceeding pain, and my empty heart will sob out in music like a hollow reed, and the stone will melt in tears. I surely know the hundred petals of a lotus will not remain closed for ever and the secret recess of its honey will be bared. From the blue sky an eye shall gaze upon me and summon me in silence. Nothing will be left for me, nothing whatever, and utter death shall I receive at thy feet. 99 WHEN I give up the helm I know that the time has come for thee to take it. What there is to do will be instantly done. Vain is this struggle. Then take away your hands and silently put up with your defeat, my heart, and think it your good fortune to sit perfectly still where you are placed. These my lamps are blown out at every little puff of wind, and trying to light them I forget all else again and again. But I shall be wise this time and wait in the dark, spreading my mat on the floor; and whenever it is thy pleasure, my lord, come silently and take thy seat here. 100 I DIVE down into the depth of the ocean of forms, hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless. No more sailing from harbour to harbour with this my weather-beaten boat. The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves. And now I am eager to die into the deathless. Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss where swells up the music of toneless strings I shall take this harp of my life. I shall tune it to the notes of for ever, and, when it has sobbed out its last utterance, lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent. 101 EVER in my life have I sought thee with my songs. It was they who led me from door to door, and with them have I felt about me, searching and touching my world. It was my songs that taught me all the lessons I ever learnt; they showed me secret paths, they brought before my sight many a star on the horizon of my heart. They guided me all the day long to the mysteries of the country of pleasure and pain, and, at last, to what palace gate have they brought me in the evening at the end of my journey? 102 Page 47

I BOASTED among men that I had known you. They see your pictures in all works of mine. They come and ask me, "Who is he?" I know not how to answer them. I say, "Indeed, I cannot tell." They blame me and they go away in scorn. And you sit there smiling. I put my tales of you into lasting songs. The secret gushes out from my heart. They come and ask me, "Tell me all your meanings." I know not how to answer them. I say, "Ah, who knows what they mean!" They smile and go away in utter scorn. And you sit there smiling. 103 IN one salutation to thee, my God, let all my senses spread out and touch this world at thy feet. Like a rain-cloud of July hung low with its burden of unshed showers let all my mind bend down at thy door in one salutation to thee. Let all my songs gather together their diverse strains into a single current and flow to a sea of silence in one salutation to thee. Like a flock of homesick cranes flying night and day back to their mountain nests let all my life take its voyage to its eternal home in one salutation to thee. About the poem Gitanjali or (Gitanjoli) is the title of what is probably the best-known poetry collection by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941), for which he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913. Tagore was a native of Kolkata (Calcutta) and he wrote in Bengali. Gitanjali translates as “song offerings”, although the word “anjali” translates more closely as “offered prayers”, so the songs being offered should, in Western eyes, be seen rather more as devotions than as secular songs. The collection was originally compiled in 1910 as a set of poems in Bengali, but Tagore, who had spent two years in England as a law student, translated these into English for a volume that was finally published in 1912. However, of the 103 poems in the English volume, only 52 came from the original Bengali collection. He added translations from three other collections, some of the poems of which had been written more than ten years previously. The translations were not necessarily made directly from a Bengali poem into an English one; considerable editing was done, with new material added and, on one occasion, two Bengali poems were fused together to make a single English poem. Tagore visited England again in 1912, taking the manuscript with him, although publication was not his prime motive. He met and mixed with the intelligentsia of London, who came to know his work and greatly admired it. One of them was the Irish poet and near-contemporary W. B. Yeats, who wrote a generous preface to the volume when it was published in 1913. It is easy to see why Yeats so admired Tagore‟s work, as the former would have seen in Gitanjali much of the metaphysical spirit of his own work at that time. However, it is also possible that Yeats saw in Tagore more mysticism than was actually there. Yeats was smitten by the “mystical East”, but Tagore was in many ways a Westernised Indian. The British Raj was at its height during Tagore‟s time, with Calcutta one of its main centres. Tagore was a wealthy member of the Brahmin caste, and therefore in regular contact with British rulers and educators. Although he drew on ancient myths and legends for his material, he was by no means a guru or ascetic sitting under a lotus tree and giving forth words of wisdom. One problem with Gitanjali is that Tagore chose to use old-fashioned “thee” and “thine” modes of address instead of “you” and “your”. This gave the poems a loftiness and archaism that they would not have had otherwise. The poems are intensely personal, some addressed to a deity and others to a human beloved. However, the tone is very similar, whoever is addressed, leading to the conviction that human and divine love are to be seen in the same light. Indeed, Tagore‟s message is that it is through human love that love for the divine can be achieved. There are echoes of the poetry of John Donne, or even the Song of Solomon, in the allegorical mixing of human and divine love. Most of the poems are short and highly approachable, so that they work for virtually any reader, as well today as when first written. Page 48

THE DISCOVERY OF INDIA Jawaharlal Nehru Jawaharlal Nehru (14 November 1889 – 27 May 1964) was the first Prime Minister of India and a central figure in Indian politics before and after independence. He emerged as the paramount leader of the Indian independence movement under the tutelage of Mahatma Gandhi and ruled India from its establishment as an independent nation in 1947 until his death in 1964. He is considered to be the architect of the modern Indian nation-state: a sovereign, socialist, secular, and democratic republic. He was also known as Pandit Nehru due to his roots with the Kashmiri Pandit community while many Indian children knew him as Chacha Nehru Abstract: Jawaharlal Nehru‟s „The Discovery of India‟, a Modern Classics, is a work of prodigious scope and scholarship. It is a monumental work which covers the history, philosophy, art, religion, science, economy, society and movements of one of the ancient cultures of the world. Nehru delves deep into India‟s rich and complex past from the Vedic history to the British rule in India to arrive at the roots of his existence as well as his India. Nehru restudies and analyses the greatest texts of India from the Vedas to the Upanishads and the great Indian epics the Ramayana and the Mahabharata only to satisfy his quest. The great personalities of India like Buddha, Chanakya and Mahatma Gandhi who played a very vital role for the construction of nation have been also paid a tribute by him. Nehru‟s sincerest efforts to reach to the roots of his own existence puts him among the forefront prose writers of the world. “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past.‟‟ Jawaharlal Nehru has obliged the world literature by penning down `The Discovery of India‟ which proves to be the testimonial to his capacity as a writer of historical as well as autobiographical book. Writing history is like walking on a tight rope as the writer may prone to be influenced by his personal prejudices and dogmas but fortunately Nehru comes out as an exception, barring some portions. Nehru, the first prime minister of India, was one of the greatest figures of the modern India. He was a multifaceted personality-a statesman, a politician, a writer, a thinker, a philosopher, and a visionary artist. He combined a fine sensitivity of mind, a rare delicacy of feelings with large and generous impulses. He was indeed, a great emancipator of the human race, who had given all his life and energy to the liberty of human beings from all the bondages of mind. It has been rightly observed, “The Discovery of India considered as a whole is a curious jumble of historical facts, philosophical speculations and reflective essays on divergent themes couched in pleasant prose often rising to poetic heights. It is a thesis on Indian culture and history by the catholic and cosmopolitan mind of Nehru. He approaches India like a “friendly foreigner”, appreciates her wisdom, condemns her follies and studies her past to make it a spring-board of action, to push and direct the current of history in creative future channels. But it is impossible to count it entirely as a book of history or culture, for what interests us more in The Discovery is its intimate autobiographical tone, its lucid style and literary graces, above all, its expression of the ideas and opinions, tastes and temperament, refined sentiments and noble passions of our beloved leader and the chief disciple of Mahatma Gandhi.” Jawaharlal Nehru occupies an enviable position in Indian writing in English. He was a prose writer of distinction. The literary genius of Nehru has been acclaimed not only in India but also in the world by scholars. His reputation as a creative artist and literary personality rests on his major works –  An Autobiography  The Discovery of India(1946)  Glimpses of World History – A Series of Letters to His Daughter Indira(1934) Nehru was a born visionary. He was writer of par excellence as well. Commenting on the greatness of Nehru as a writer Dr. Rajendra Prasad writes, Page 49

“Jawaharlal is a man of culture in the widest and best sense of the expression. He is a man with ideas born of study of books and widespread contact with man, Indian and foreign. His emotional nature and his inmate independence of thought have helped him in developing a style of expression which is direct and captivating. He is a gifted writer wielding the pen as an artist.” Nehru has been widely acclaimed for his exceptional command over English language. His English is profoundly rich yet lucid. There is a free flow of poetic narration in his works. Even his prose works sound melodious to our ears. It must have been a challenging task for Nehru to manifest Indian sensibility in a foreign language but he succeeded by his creative genious. Nehru is the superb master of narration. He brings before us the vivid images of the great leaders and saints of resplendent India. The following narration of Buddha portrayed by Nehru is evidence in itself: “Seated on the lotus flower, calm and impassive, above passion and desire, beyond the storm and strife of this world, so far away he seems, out of reach, unattainable. Yet again we look and behind those still, unmoving features there is a passion and an emotion, strange and more powerful than the passions and emotions we have known. His eyes are closed, but some power of the spirit looks out of them and a vital energy feels the frame. The ages roll by and Buddha seems not so far away after all; his voice whispers in our ears and tells us not to run away from the struggle but, calm-eyed, to face it, and to see in life ever greater opportunities for growth and advancement.” Jawaharlal Nehru‟s „The Discovery of India‟ rejuvenates one of the world‟s ancient cultures covering all its aspects- history, philosophy, art, religion, science, economy, society and its movements. It is a monumental work. It has brought him worldwide fame as a writer. It was translated into major European, Asian and Indian languages. It has been widely regarded as a „Modern classics.‟ It is also remarkable for its beautiful use of English. It was the masterpiece of Nehru in which his approach to history is both realistic and philosophical. Nehru writes about his motherland with pride. He acknowledges the heritage and success as well as weaknesses and failures of her people. Albert Einstein, the great scientist rightly said that „The Discovery of India‟, “Gives an understanding of the glorious intellectual and spiritual tradition of (a) great country.” „The Discovery of India‟ has been labeled as a historical book which deals with India‟s rich and complex past from the prehistory to the British rule in India but it is very difficult to put it under a particular branch of literature as it is a disarray of historical facts, philosophical views and reflective essays. It is a work of prodigious scope and scholarship which unfolds the Indian culture and history. It also analyses the greatest texts of India from the Vedas to the Upanishads and the great Indian epics the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. He also tries to throw light on the great personalities of India like Buddha, Chanakya and Mahatma Gandhi. Sunil Khilnani in introduction to the book writes, “The Discovery of India feels distinctly modern in its mixing of genres. memoir interleaved with political commentary and philosophical musings, and all this is contained within a narrative that spans Indian history from the Indus Valley to the Quit India movement of 1942. It is not a work of original historical scholarship. It is an act of political and literary imagination.” Nehru‟s treatise „The Discovery of India‟ was written over five months when he was imprisoned at Ahmednagar fort in 1942-1946 for his participation in the Quit India movement along with the great leaders of India. He used the time of monotony and boredom of jail life to write down his thoughts and learning about India‟s past for he believed that the past which shapes the present, is an integral part of life. He says, “The past becomes something that leads up to the present, the moment of action, the future something that flows from it; and all three are inextricably intertwined and interrelated.” Nehru has already tried to discover the past in relation to present in his “The Glimpses of World History”. The same urge once again tented him to concentrate again on the past in a deeper sense and he Page 50

made up his mind to write about India‟s Past. In leisurely mood, Nehru roams into the past of India to arrive at the roots of his existence as well as his India and writes what he finds from the twilight past stretched up to the complete dark of antiquity. The Discovery of India is divided into ten chapters as, (1) Ahmadnagar Fort (2) Bedenweller Lausanne (3) The Quest (4) The Discovey of India (5) Through the ages (6) New Problems (7) The Last Phase-(1): Consolidation of British Rule and Rise of Nationalist Movement (8) The Last Phase-(2) Nationalism Versus Imperialism (9) The Last Phase-(3) World War II (10) Ahmadnagar Fort Again. This voluminous book, inspite of being a work of history, has some autobiographical content andflavour in it. The first chapter narrates the imprisoned life of Nehru in Ahmednagar fort, his complete detachment from the outside world, his concern for the country as it was struck with famine and for the world as it was torn in war. The second chapter extensively covers his personal life i.e the story of his relationship with his wife Kamla, her illness and her death and his own philosophical speculations about death. The third chapter „The Quest‟ is considered to be the real beginning of „The Discovery of India‟. The panorama of India‟s past, India‟s strength and Weakness, the search for India, Bharatmata, The ariety and Unity of India, all these sub chapters in the third chapter reflect Nehru‟s approach towards India and her appeal to him. In „The Discovery of India‟ Nehru begins to read the history of India from the beginning of the Indus valley civilisation with the outline of the geography of the country and the introduction of the Dravadians who were probably representative of the Indus valley civilisation. Nehru mentions that the Aryans were the first to invade India who poured into the country in successive waves from the north – west in about a thousand years. They merged with the native tribes. Nehru says that out of this cultural synthesis and fusion of the Aryans with the Dravadians, the Indian races and her basic culture grew out. Later on other races like Iranians, Greeks, Parthians, Bactrians, Huns, Turkish and Mongols etc also came to India and were absorbed The Discovery of India is Nehru‟s sincere effort to outline the historical events. He explained the term„Hinduism‟ in detail which means “all things to all men” and its quintessence is to live and let live. He also tells us about the earlier records, scripture, and mythology which display his own readings of Vedas, Arthshastra, Upanishadas, and Indian epics. The growth of new religions and religious sects such as Buddhism and Jainism as well as the changing social structure and the beginning of the caste system is explained in detail. The Discovery of India pens detailed picture of the dawn of the medieval period and the golden era of the Guptas. Here Nehru also gives a good sight of India‟s foreign relationships with people of China, Iran and Greece as well as Indian‟s foreign trade which was wide spread and the merchants of India dominated many foreign markets. Then the most perplexing question of Buddhism in India, its effect on Hinduism, and its philosophy is explained extensively. The Discovery of India also focuses on the problems that occurred with coming of Islam into India both as a religious and political force and the flowering of the Arab culture as well as Mughal empire. Nehru tells that the Mughal, though outsiders and strangers in India, fitted into the Indian structure with remarkable speed and thus cultivated the feelings of assimilation and indianisation. Here Nehru seems to be much more sympathetic to the Afghans and tries to give a better picture of the Indo- Mughal period which is slightly different from what we learn from the history of India. Jadish V.Dave rightly said, “Nehru says that Afghans after being settled in India were Indianised. The fact is they never were. They did not, of course, like the British drag away India‟s wealth into a foreign country. But they lived in a conquered country like the robbers who also ruled. Ruling over India from Delhi does not Indianise them. They considered themselves the Moslem masters of Hindu population. They identified themselves with the wandering tribes of Arabia, and hated the culture of India. The Afghan period in the history of India is the Page 51

darkest period, the period of chaos where might passed as right, where brutal bloodshed of kafirs who refused to be converted was the only ideal. What does jajia tax signify? Hindus for being what they were had to pay taxes and pay heavily. Afghans physically lived in India, but their spiritual home was abroad. Their descendants continued to cherish the same mentality till India was divided and Pakistan came into existence. The roots of Pakistan were deep in the minds of Indian Moslems, and after the division of India nobody will agree with Nehru in maintaining that Afghans, their descendents, their convert followers were ever Indianised. Nehru reaches the extremity of naivete and wishful vision when he describes lusty Allauddin Khilji‟s forced marriage with the kidnapped queen of Karna Dev Vaghela of Gujarat, and his son‟s similar marriage with her daughter, as a sign of synthesis between Afghans and Indians. Can Nehru really be so naive? I do not think so. Here is a plain distortion of facts and blatantly wrong interpretation of history.” Nehru might have presented the rosy picture of the Moslem period in India due to the Hindu Moslem problem at the time. Being a politician, he was very much aware that the frank picture of the Moslem period might stir up the already burning issue as the Moslems of India identified themselves with their invader ancestors. The Mughal Empire gradually disintegrated. The Marathas who had previously emerged as a dominant power weakened and we are led to the path where the British came to India as traders under the „East India Company‟ and established a colonial empire. India became weak and backward. The British power took the advantage of India‟s internal differences. „The Discovery of India‟ also presents a detailed picture of the British rule in India. It denotes that the East India Company laid the foundation of British rule in India. The British who first settled in Bengal gradually captured the Indian coastline. Many states of India, once very rich and prosperous, became very poor during the British rule. The Indian Industrial set up collapsed and agriculture also immensely suffered. India for the first time became a political and economic appendage of another. country. Though there were princely states in India during the British rule, they were subservient to the British government. The spread of the education in India, the introduction of printing presses and the new technical and scientific inventions brought about a revolutionary change in Indian mind and outlook and gave rise to modern consciousness. Some noble man like Chaitanya, Ramkrishna and Raja Ram Mohan Roy played a vital role in religious and social reforms. The influence of Education also stirred up the minds of some great leaders and for the first time the leaders of Bengal stood out as the leaders of cultural and political matters to the rest of India. The efforts of these leaders took the shape of the new nationalistic movement The Discovery of India throws light on the role of the national congress which was a new type of leadership for the political freedom of India. The congress which was tottering in the beginning, become a dynamic organisation under Gandhiji‟s leadership. He made the congress democratic and mass organisation. Peasants and industrial workers joined it. Nehru describes the emergence of Gandhiji on India‟s political horizon in the following words, “He was like a powerful current of fresh air that made us stretch ourselves and keep deep breaths; like a beam of light that pierced the darkness and removed the scales from our eyes; like a whirlwind that upset many things , but most of all the working of people „s minds……Political freedom took new shape and acquired a new content.” The Discovery of India pictures the real scenario of the Indian freedom movement during 1940‟s. The national congress unquestionably played a vital role in the freedom fight of India. The congress party first came into power in the provincial elections of 1937 held under the government of India act of 1935. The congress tried their best to solve the problems of the provinces but the act of 1935 was a great hindrance. Inspite of all these barriers and limitations, Indians were enthusiastic and had an overwhelming desire for complete independence. The congress, which remained entirely engrossed in internal politics, gradually started to pay little attention to the foreign developments. It developed its foreign policy and Page 52

demanded that India should not be committed to any war without the consent of the representatives of the people but the British viceroy without taking the consult of the elected representatives, declared India‟s belligerent in world war – II which resulted into the resignation of the provincial government out of protest. The resignation of congress provincial government resulted in chaos and disorder. The situation all Over the country was tense. The British government suppressed all attempts of the Indian people to free themselves. All the eminent leaders were put behind the bars. The people of the country were frustrated, but the writing of Gandhiji had given them new direction. The congress resolution, sponsored by Gandhiji, declared that India should spend all her resources in struggle for freedom. Following this the A.T.C.C passed the Quit India resolution on August 8, 1942. The whole nation was in turmoil. All great leaders were imprisoned. All over India the younger generation played a vital role. The British government killed countless Indians to suppress the mass upsurge. They used fierce and ruthless force against the Indians which resulted into misery and degradation. After giving the comprehensive picture of the freedom movement of India from the time it had begun to the time when it gained momentum and the final years of the movement, Nehru turns his mind towards the future of India as he foresaw the freedom of India in near future. Though India was in a very critical condition, he was very much hopeful for India‟s new life. He writes, “There is a great deal of pessimism in India today and a sense of frustration and both can be understood, for events have dealt harshly with our people and the future is not promising. But there is also below the surface a stirring and a pushing, signs of new life and vitality, and unknown forces at work.” Nehru believes that if India wants progress, she must learn about industrial and scientific advancement from the west at the same time, she must break with the dead wood of the past which has encumbered its progress. It doesn‟t imply a break from the vital and life giving in the past. The Discovery of India is an account of the journey of Nehru to discover India for himself. It was in a real sense “the discovery of Nehru‟s large, comprehensive and catholic self–the self that has read widely, thought deeply and lost itself through love in the lives of the oppressed millions of India.” During the course of his journey, he discovered what India was and envisaged what she would be. Nehru discovers India in the following words, “India is a geographical and economic entity, a cultural unity amidst diversity, a bundle of contradictions had together by strong but invisible threads. Overwhelmed again and again, her spirit was never conquered, and today when she appears to be the plaything of a proud conqueror, she remains unsubdued and unconquered……..From age to age she has produced great men and women carrying on the old tradition and yet ever adapting it to changing times.”

THE RENAISSANCE IN INDIA Shree Aurobindo Shree Aurobindo was born in Calcutta on 15 August 1872. He stood first in King‟s College, Cambridge in England. He also passed the final examination of the Indian Civil Service. When he was professor in Baroda College, he joined revolutionary society and took a leading role in secret preparations for an uprising against the British Government in India. The essay was written in 1918. In it he presented the old Indian spirit and how it should be converted into renaissance. It also shows the Indian culture and its soul, the creativity in it. The strength due to the spirit, the outcome of it is shown in this essay. “Spirituality is the master key of the Indian mind. The sense of infinity is native o it.” He believes that Indian civilization is the best civilization as it stands on spirituality which is infinite. The sole creativity and sheer intellect are the children of it. It has its own high spiritual aim. With the help of effective mannerism, it forms & effect the rhythm of life. In his words: Page 53

“A spiritual aspiration was the governing force of this culture” He also believes that the spirituality is the highest aspect of life as it tries to be and ruling the passion of a single man. And he also turns the core of the man towards it. Foe him „Renaissance‟ is the new birth of India. It is very important for her. Here he personified India as „Mother India‟. He wants to put her on the world in such a way that it evokes the new creativity in the mentality. She should relearn the age-old ideas and light up the spirit within and emboss herself among other nations‟ eye. So that it help her to govern her future. The important is what India makes her own life must precede the wider question what her new life may be mean to human race. He also compares the term of renaissance with the European ones due to Greek-Latin with special reference to India. He denies the likeness with European renaissance. It is the long period of eclipse as India is under the baseless and confusing influences of different culture of West. There are various loop-holes in it and it gives new self-consciousness or just it creates an illusion of modernization. But the wholeness, the feeling of fulfillment, from within is not there. The influence can‟t touch the soul of every common man. But the louder call of the pioneers had shaken the inner soul of the “general minds of the people”. They represent the advanced movement. On the whole we see is a giant Shakti who is awakening the whole world a new and alien environment. In doing so India finds herself bond with past strings and scratches, wounds and weakened minds. She tries herself to be free from it, to arise and proclaim herself. And impose her importance and set her seal on the world. “The bud of the soul” is partly open. He further adds that none can come from outside with the knowledge and reforms India. It is not the basic need of it. It should break the shackles of other countries‟ influences. Her true reawakening is that gave her rebirth as a whole and enlightens the spirit. He praises the Indian spirit. The spirituality is very vital & is always maintains itself. It is that which saved India always at every critical moment of her destiny. It has been the starting point of the renaissance. It is the vitality of the spirit that saves India every time and under the rule-its soul and body soon destroyed. The spirit is the strength of India to fight and stand against the circumstances. Now it‟s time for India to shed all her fears & influences as it reaches nowhere and become still. The stagnation of spirit mars the liveliness of the India. The spirit will keep her going. It sharpens herself with new philosophical, artistic, literary, cultural, political and social forms and rejuvenises itself. It reestablishes the old truths with new undefeated strength, completeness and permanence. The master key of the dead lock is spirituality. She was alive of the greatness of material laws and forces; she had a keen eye to see beyond it and also had great hold on the insight. She could see the complexity of the universe as well as the unity in the spirit. She is also well aware about the hidden powers of human kind about which he himself is ignorant. She had seen God behind many Gods. And knows about the vastness of spirituality. Then with that calm audacity of her intuition which know no fear and littleness and shrank from no act whether of spiritual or intellectual, ethical or vital courage, she declared that there was none of these things which man could not attain if he trained his will and knowledge; he could conquer these rages of mind become the sprit, become a God, become one with God, become the ineffable Brahmin. Here Aurobindo talks about the real Brahmin. It shows the relation between national spirit and castisism. The cast is based on the form od one‟s freewill about learning, work and sphere of knowledge and spirituality. The person who is high in spirit, having great carving of the rising of soul and longing to reach the capability flourish from within is true Brahmin. And with the help of the Brahmins vast knowledge of logic, science, with the sense of management and practicality she set forth the way to progress. But this spirituality and this prolific abundance of the energy and joy of life and creation do not make all that the spirit of India has been in its past. Indeed without this opulent vitality and opulent intellectuality India could never have done so much as she did with her spiritual tendencies. It is a great error to suppose that spirituality flourishes best in an Page 54

impoverished soil with the life half-killed and the intellect discouraged and intimidated. The spirituality that so flourishes is something morbid, hectic and exposed to perilous reactions. It is when the race has lived most richly and thought most profoundly that spirituality finds its heights and its depths and its constant and many-sided fruition. In modern Europe it is after a long explosion of vital force and a stupendous activity of the intellect that spirituality has begun really to emerge and with some promise of being not, as it once was the sorrowful physician of the malady of life, but the beginning of a large and profound clarity. The European eye is struck in Indian spiritual thought by the Buddhistic and illusionist denial of life. But it must be remembered that this is only one side of its philosophic tendency which assumed exaggerated proportions only in the period of decline. In itself too that was simply one result, in one direction, of a tendency of the Indian mind which is common to all its activities, the impulse to follow each motive, each specialisation of motive even, spiritual, intellectual, ethical, vital, to its extreme point and to sound its utmost possibility. Part of its innate direction was to seek in each not only for its fullness of detail, but for its infinite, its absolute, its profoundest depth or its highest pinnacle. It knew that without a “fine excess” we cannot break down the limits which the dull temper of the normal mind opposes to knowledge and thought and experience; and it had in seeking this point a boundless courage and yet a sure tread. Thus it carried each tangent of philosophic thought, each line of spiritual experience to its farthest point, and chose to look from that farthest point at all existence, so as to see what truth or power such a view could give it. It tried to know the whole of divine nature and to see too as high as it could beyond nature and into whatever there might be of supradivine. When it formulated a spiritual atheism, it followed that to its acme of possible vision. When, too, it indulged in materialistic atheism, - though it did that only with a side glance, as the freak of an insatiable intellectual curiosity, yet it formulated it straight out, boldly and nakedly, without the least concession to idealism or ethicism. Everywhere we find this tendency. The ideals of the Indian mind have included the height of selfassertion of the human spirit and its thirst of independence and mastery and possession and the height also of its self-abnegation, dependence and submission and self-giving. In life the ideal of opulent living and the ideal of poverty were carried to the extreme of regal splendour and the extreme of satisfied nudity. Its intuitions were sufficiently clear and courageous not to be blinded by its own most cherished ideas and fixed habits of life. If it was obliged to stereotype caste as the symbol of its social order, it never quite forgot, as the caste-spirit is apt to forget, that the human soul and the human mind are beyond caste. For it had seen in the lowest human being the Godhead, Narayana. It emphasised distinctions only to turn upon them and deny all distinctions. If all its political needs and circumstances compelled it at last to exaggerate the monarchical principle and declare the divinity of the king and to abolish its earlier republican city states and independent federations as too favourable to the centrifugal tendency, if therefore it could not develop democracy, yet it had the democratic idea, applied it in the village, in council and municipality, within the caste, was the first to assert a divinity in the people and could cry to the monarch at the height of his power, “O king, what art thou but the head servant of the demos?” Its idea of the golden age was a free spiritual anarchism. Its spiritual extremism could not prevent it from fathoming through a long era the life of the senses and its enjoyments, and there too it sought the utmost richness of sensuous detail and the depths and intensities of sensuous experience. Yet it is notable that this pursuit of the most opposite extremes never resulted in disorder; and its most hedonistic period offers nothing that at all resembles the unbridled corruption which a similar tendency has more than once produced in Europe. For the Indian mind is not only spiritual and ethical, but intellectual and artistic, and both the rule of the intellect and the rhythm of beauty are hostile to the spirit of chaos. In every extreme the Indian spirit seeks for a law in that extreme and a rule, measure and structure in its application. Besides, this sounding of extremes is balanced by a still more ingrained characteristic, the synthetical tendency, so that having pushed each motive to its farthest possibility the Indian mind returns always towards some fusion of the knowledge it has gained and to a resulting harmony Page 55

and balance in action and institution. Balance and rhythm which the Greeks arrived at by self-limitation, India arrived at by its sense of intellectual, ethical and aesthetic order and the synthetic impulse of its mind and life. The Spirit is a higher infinite of verities; life is a lower infinite of possibilities which seek to grow and find their own truth and fulfilment in the light of these verities. Our intellect, our will, our ethical and our aesthetic being are the reflectors and the mediators. The method of the West is to exaggerate life and to call down as much - or as little - as may be of the higher powers to stimulate and embellish life. [Mr. Cousins' distinction between invocation and evocation.] But the method of India is on the contrary to discover the spirit within and the higher hidden intensities of the superior powers and to dominate life in one way or another so as to make it responsive to and expressive of the spirit and in that way increase the power of life. Its tendency with the intellect, will, ethical, aesthetic and emotional being is to sound indeed their normal mental possibilities, but also to upraise them towards the greater light and power of their own highest intuitions. The work of the renaissance in India must be to make this spirit, this higher view of life, this sense of deeper potentiality once more a creative, perhaps a dominant power in the world. But to that truth of itself it is as yet only vaguely awake; the mass of Indian action is still at the moment proceeding under the impress of the European motive and method and, because there is a spirit within us to which they are foreign, the action is poor in will, feeble in form and ineffective in results, for it does not come from the roots of our being. Only in a few directions is there some clear light of self-knowledge. It is when a greater light prevails and becomes general that we shall be able to speak, not only in prospect but in fact, of the renaissance of India. In the second essay, he rephrases them. The Western impact reawakened “a free activity of the intellect”; “it threw definitely into ferment of modern ideas into the old culture”; and “it made us turn our look upon all that our past contains with new eyes”. These are a revival of “the dormant intellectual and critical impulse”; the rehabilitation of life and an awakened “desire for new creation”; and a revival of the Indian spirit by the turning of the national mind to its past. It is this “awakening vision and impulse” that Sri Aurobindo feels is the Indian renaissance. Such a renaissance would have three tasks to accomplish: in the light of Indian spirit, the endeavour to formulate a greater synthesis of a spiritualised society is one of the most difficult. Nothing in the many processes of Nature, whether she deals with men or with things, comes by chance or accident or is really at the mercy of external causes. What things are inwardly, determines the course of even their most considerable changes; and timeless India being what she is, the complexity of this transition was predestined and unavoidable. It was impossible that she should take a rapid wholesale imprint of Western motives and their forms and leave the ruling motives of her own past to accommodate themselves to the foreign change as best they could afterwards. A swift transformation scene like that which brought into being a new modernised Japan, would have been out of the question for her, even if the external circumstances had been equally favourable. For Japan lives centrally in her temperament and in her aesthetic sense, and therefore she has always been rapidly assimilative; her strong temperamental persistence has been enough to preserve her national stamp and her artistic vision a sufficient power to keep her soul alive. But India lives centrally in the spirit, with less buoyancy and vivacity and therefore with a less ready adaptiveness of creation, but a greater, intenser, more brooding depth; her processes are apt to be deliberate, uncertain and long because she has to take things into that depth and from its profoundest inwardness to modify or remould the more outward parts of her life. And until that has been done, the absorption completed, the powers of the remoulding determined, she cannot yet move forward with an easier step on the new way she is taking. From the complexity of the movement arises all the difficulty of the problems she has to face and the rather chaotic confusion of the opinions, standpoints and tendencies that have got entangled in the process, which prevents any easy, clear and decided development, so that we seem to be Page 56

advancing under a confused pressure of circumstance or in a series of shifting waves of impulsion, this ebbing for that to arise, rather than with any clear idea of our future direction. But here too lies the assurance that once the inner direction has found its way and its implications have come to the surface, the result will be no mere Asiatic modification of Western modernism, but some great, new and original thing of the first importance to the future of human civilisation. In the second essay, Sri Aurobindo goes on to outline the three phases of the renaissance: The first step was the reception of the European contact, a radical reconsideration of many of the prominent elements and some revolutionary denial of the very principles of the old culture. The second was a reaction of the Indian spirit upon the European influence, sometimes with a total denial of what it offered and a stressing both of the essential and the strict letter of the national past, which yet masked a movement of assimilation. The third, only now beginning or recently begun, is rather a process of new creation in which the spiritual power of the Indian mind remains supreme, recovers its truths, accepts whatever it finds sound or true, useful or inevitable of the modern idea and form, but so transmutes and indianises it, so absorbs and transforms it entirely into itself that its foreign character disappears and it becomes another harmonious element in the characteristic working of the ancient goddess, the Shakti of India mastering and taking possession of the modern influence, no longer possessed or overcome by it. Sri Aurobindo predicts that if the last were to happen, “the result will be no mere Asiatic modification of Western modernism, but some great, new and original thing of the first importance to the future of human civilization”. In the third essay, Sri Aurobindo offers an overview of some of the movements and figures of the renaissance, all the while pointing to what lies ahead. Finally, in the fourth essay, he once again stresses that the best course of action to India lies in being herself, recovering her native genius, which is a reassertion of its ancient spiritual ideal. It only in “the knowledge and conscious application of the ideal” that the future of both India and the world lies. Whether she can rise up to this task or not is a question that he leaves open. If we were to evaluate the recent cultural history of India in the light of this essay, we will clearly see that the course of post-independence India has stressed the regaining of material, even military might, not necessarily the reaffirmation of India‟s spiritual ideal. So, to that extent, Sri Aurobindo has been proved both right and wrong. Right in that the spiritual is realized not in the denial of the material but actually in the robust plenitude of the material subordinated to the spiritual ideal. We see in present day India a great effort to attain such material prosperity. But whether the spiritual idea of India remains intact is a question that is not easily answered. To all appearances, India has gone the way of the rest of the world, worshipping mammon. Our religion, too, is consumerism. To say that spirituality is the master key to the Indian psyche these days would seem more the exception than the rule. When we re-examine Sri Aurobindo‟s ideas today, we can even conclude that the true gift of the renaissance was the modern Indian nation. Despite all its drawbacks and failings, this nation seems to be the best means that we have to preserve our culture and to express our own destiny. This nation has not only survived the ravages of the partition, but every conceivable threat, both internal and external, its very existence. But having met and overcome these challenges, it seems to be poised to take our civilization to new heights. This is not an inconsiderable achievement. Can India embody the best of its unique cultural heritage and also become a modern nation? This is the question that we must wait for the future to answer. The most important contribution of Sri Aurobindo to the discussion on the Indian renaissance is, as is often the case with his work, in what is yet to be realized. Sri Aurobindo says that the rise of India is necessary for future of humanity itself. The third and most difficult task for the Indian renaissance has been the new creation that will come from a unique fusion of ancient Indian spirituality and modernity. This fusion will be instrumental in spiritualizing. the world and in bringing about what many have called a global transformation. In our present times of the clash of civilizations, such an idea may seem utopian, but the Page 57

very survival of the planet depends on a hope and belief that something of this sort is not only possible but inevitable.

NAGAMANDALA Girish Raghunath Karnad Abstract : This paper entitled Naga-Mandala a Story of Marriage and love pursuits and analysis the powerful portrait of the agony and anguish faced by both men and women in their development into adult roles and social adjustment in a society where the individual is given little space for self-development awareness and independence as a being. Girish Karnad‟s plays reflect upon contemporary Indian cultural and social life through the use of folk tales, myths and historical legends. He weaves together timeless truths about human life and emotions contained in ancient Indian stories with the changing social mores and morals of modern life. His plays are particularly concerned with the psychological problems, dilemmas and conflicts experienced by Modern Indian men and women in their different social situations. Introduction Girish Raghunath Karnad born on 19 th May 1938, in Mather, Maharashtra has become one of Indian‟s brightest shining stars, earning International praise as a playwright, poet, actor, director, critic, and translator. His rise as a playwright in 1960s, marked the coming of age of Modern Indian playwriting in kannada. For four decades karnad has been composing plays, often using history and mythology to tackle contemporary issues. He was conferred PadmaShree (1972) and Padma Bhushan (1974) by the Government of India and won four Filmfare Award. He is among seven recipients of Jnanpith Award for Kannada, the highest literary honor conferred in India. Nagamandala ia s folktale transformed into the metaphor of the married woman. It is a Chinese box story with two folktales transformed into one superstition, fact and fantacy, instinct and reason, the particular and the general blebd to produce a drama with universal evocations. The source material of the Naga-mandala comes, as Karnad informs the reader in his introduction to the “Three Plays”, from a folk tale that he had haerd from A.K Ramanujan, eho had collected many folk tales and their variants as they existed in different parts of India. The folk tale of a Prince whose extreme mistrust of women prevent him from loving any woman, and whose encounter with a woman‟s desire for love, has, as Ramanujan writes about this tale, as many as forty variants. The central theme of all these tales is, as Ramanujan remarks, “the narcissism” of the “self-involved hero”, who undergoes a test put to him by the wife in order to survive. The psychological inadequacy that the young man is caught in prevents his self transcendence, causing acute lack of understanding and communicating between him and a woman. Naga-mandala is not only about the male difficulty to trust and love women, and transcend his narcissism. It seems to be about the socialization process of both men and women, particularly in the Indian society where marriage is, more often than not, the first experience of sex and love for most of the people. Nagamandala probes into the female and male growth into selfhood, and their mature adjustment with the social roles appointed for them by the traditional society. Myths and folk tales in a patriarchal society represents primarily the male unconscious fears and wishes and are patriarchal constructs and “manoriented”. In these stories the woman‟s experiences and inner feelings often do not find adequate expression. They do not give much information about the women‟s fears, anxieties and psychological problems. Nagamandala is the story of a young girl, Rani, newly married to Appanna, and their gradual understanding of the role, function and responsibilities of the institution of marriage. This story is presented in the play by a woman narrator, a “flame” which has come to tell a story. The play begins in the temple on the outskirts of a village, where a passer-by stops at night for a shelter. He then finds many tiny “flames” have come from different households in the village. Each flame is a female, a story-teller, sharing with the

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others her observations and new experiences. The stranger, a writer himself, enters into their conversation, and listens to a „new‟ tale that has just escaped from an old woman‟s head. The flame begins her story of Rani and Appanna. The dramatization of the tale mow begins. Both Rani and Appanna do not know how much they can relate to each other. The young girl misses her parents, feels home-sick and lonely, while Appanna comes home only in the day, asks for food, stays for some time and them goes away. Every night he visits the concubine, which reflects his awareness of the biological aspect of sex. The initial stage is painful for Rani, who is still very attached to her parents. Appanna‟s behavior reflects his divided emotional and physical selves. Infact the emotional aspect of his personality seems to be underdeveloped, as he treats both Rani and the prostitute in an unfair manner. Neither of the relationships is complete and satisfactory. Appanna treats her with contempt, aggression and mistrust. He locks her in the room, and scolds the old lady Kurudava and her son Kappanna when they attempt to become friendly with Rani. In her isolation Rani begins to build a world of stories around herself. She imagines herself to be a princess locked up by a demon. “So the demon locks her up in the castle. Then it rains for seven days. Then a big whale comes to Rani and says, “Come, Rani, let us go.”‟. Her story grows and perhaps it is in her fantasy thet she takes a lover. Her story expresses her psychoneurotic needs which she does not fully understand. Women‟s close-knit relationships with the other members of family and their lack of freedom to explore the world on their own is one of the reasons why identity for them is usually a matter of relationships. Sudhir Kakar points out that the “dominant psycho-social realities of a woman‟s life can be condensed into three stages. First, she is daughter to her parents; second she is wife to her husband (and daughter-in-law to his parents): and third, she is a mother to her sons (and daughters).” It is through these three important relationships that a woman realizes herself and social significance. The important stage for facing the situation and their roles in it comes as Rani becomes pregnant. It is a moment acknowledgement of the private and act. Appanna is aghast at this development and takes his wife to a public trial. Rani finds herself alone in the crisis, for the lover as well as the husband fail to provide moral or emotional support. Rani is asked by the man at night, whom she takes to be her husband, to “speak the truth… what you think is not of a consequence. It must be the truth.” (54) The truth for Rani is that she has been faithful to her husband. This conviction comes into the public. The nervous, frightened, young girl finds within herself a new courage and confidence and gain social respectability. She emerges triumphant from the public trial, as the snake does not bite her. The cold, aggressive and indifferent husband is subdued, mildly tamed and accept the judgement even if he is not fully convinced. This stage of Rani‟s social integration brings her a new sense of respect and her own worth. This is another significant aspect of the Indian social and cultural life in its treatment of women. In Sudhir Kakar‟s words,”an Indian woman knows the motherhood confers upon her a purpose and identity that nothing else in her culture can.” (56). As a mother, Rani is seen, in the last part to the story, to be in command of the household, with some authority and decision making power. Appanna even agrees to her rather strange demand that their son should perform an annual “pinda-daan” in the memory of dead snake. Nagamandala depicts the man and woman pass through several stages of doubt, uncertainty and even failure before they become mature and learn to live harmoniously as husband and wife, within the familyfold. Appanna becomes a caring husband, accepting Rani‟s decisions which may at times baffle him. This change in Rani‟s status comes through her motherhood, and the public trial, where her bold acceptance of the truth gains her public respectability. This transformation of both Appanna and Rani presents the significance of the institution of marriage. It is through adjustment that they gain the status within the life of community. As, individuals, they gain the full selfhood only after going through these roles. Both man and

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woman accepts the social pressure in putting aside personal feelings about selfhood, fantasies and dreams about love and freedom and learns to surrender to the other for the sake of family and community. Rani‟s dream of lover who had awakened her and loved her as a woman, and Appanna”s self-centered and physical relationship with the prostitute, are given up, and they work together in the interest of the family and the community. The public and private selves become connected through the acceptance of socially responsible roles. But does that completely dry up the hidden, suppressed desire for greater love and personal fulfillment? The double ending of the play presents this duality through the structural device. In End One of the story about Rani and Appanna, the Naga enters Rani‟s bedroom again and dies for the sake of Rani and her family. Though Rani grieves for her lover, the Naga‟s sacrifice paves the way for Rani‟s happy married life. In End Two of the story, the snake does not die. He is allowed by Rani to live in her tresses, her “dark, long and cool tresses, like snake-princess”. The lover is always present, he lives with her, within the family. The dutiful and loyal wife may observe the social, moral code entirely, yet within her live the memories of the perfect lover who had given her a first emotional and erotic experience. These desires may haunt her or lie dormant within. What matters most to Rani during the period of her relationship with the snake-lover is the awakening of desire and introducing her to love rather than to sex. The woman‟s story expresses the female point of view about her needs, problems and experiences within the patriarchal institutions. It provides an understanding into the complex nature of human relations while also showing women‟s way of adjusting into their difficult social roles. The snake-lover‟s story has become a “vrat-katha”, a story told as a festival of cobra worship, where women pray to the cobra for granting safety, and progeny to their family. A.K.Ramanujan writes that the “ritual tale itself is a public even told during the Cobra Festival to propitiate snake, to ensure safety and fertility within marriage.”. More than that, it seems to be public acknowledgement of the dangers to which marriage is always open, and recognition of the blessings and goodwill of the outsider for bringing together the husband and wife. Karnad uses the folk tale In its feminized form to present the problems faced by both man and woman in marriage and the process of transformation of the immature and emotionally under-developed person into a mature and fully grown adult At the end of the play, the male, professional playwright takes the responsibility of taking the “story “to a larger audience. This is another instance of the female narrative being assimilated into the “patriarchal, classical” texts. But the structure of this play retains the individuality of the female narrative, centrestaging the women‟s experiences within marriage.

HARVEST Manjula Padmanabhan Manjula Padmanabhan was born in 1953, and is well known as a journalist, illustrator, cartoonist, fiction writer and author and writer of children‟s books as well as writing for television and the stage. After completing her university studies, Padmanabhan returned to India and began a career in journalism. She wrote several plays – including Light Out! (1996), The Artist‟s Model (1995), and Sextet (1996)- and a well- known book of short stories, Hot Death, Cold Soup (1915). Harvest won the first Onassis Prize for theatre, and premiered in Greece in 1999; it has also been produced in India. Her most recent novel is Getting There (2000). Abstract: Globalization is a concept that seeks to unify and intensify the socio-cultural landscape of the world. It is raging to achieve this feat through Information Communications Technology (ICT) which has intensified and shrunk all frontiers all over the world. It has brought to the fore uneven rates of development around the world, and it is further enhancing the interest of developed nations who are the major players in Page 60

globalization, hence eliciting different sheds of reactions from concerned intellectuals. It has since been distorting the culture and arts of economically weaker nations of the world. Using the analytical theoretical framework, this paper attempts an investigation into India‟s Manjula‟s play Harvest as a true reflection of the tendencies of this well acclaimed phenomenon, yet very exploitative, oppressive and marginalizing practice that sooner or later will bring these weaker nations to their knees. This brings attention to the fact that „global consciousness‟ does not mean „global consensus‟. One of the effects is that the world is in a moment of unease. African and indeed Nigerian playwrights should learn from what Harvest has to offer to the apparent state of disequilibrium in the interplay between nations in this globalised age which the world is in. Introduction A spectre is haunting the world today – that of globalization. It is the buzzword of the moment as it is used almost in every field of human endeavour. Globalization as a concept is breaking into different discourses because it has changed the patterns and dynamics of viewing other social, economic, political, cultural and Psychological happenings around the world. This is because it has, through its technological enforcer, information communication technology (ICT), brought individuals, groups and nations closer to each other than ever before. Globalization as a multi-disciplinary phenomenon has had its share of interpretation in the theatre. India‟s influential playwright, Manjula Padmanabhan has dramatized what appears as the true artistic portrayal of both exposed and concealed intentions of the phenomenon and she has also captured the unhealthy relationship that first world nations have with third world counterparts which the former depend on for survival and expansion. Globalization had to be the surest option for continued contact between advanced cultures and other cultures which has had its consequences in the quality of life and prospects of individuals and nations. Now it looks very inevitable, but it is not. Ever since slave trade was abolished and colonialism was discouraged, there had to be a means through which the beneficiaries of these practices would keep their benefits coming to them. The propagation of democratic ideals in nations by America and the continued revolution in technological development gave birth to the phenomenon of globalization in the world which has further forced the developing nations to a disadvantageous position. Two years after the play Harvest was written, there was a conference on „Globalization and Regional Security: Asian Perspectives‟ in 1999 in Honolulu, Hawaii. Participants agreed that globalization has some core characteristics: [1] Unprecedented economic interdependence, driven by cross- border capital movement, rapid technology Transfer, and “real time” communication and information flows. [2] Rise of new actors that challenge state authority, particularly non-governmental organizations and civic Groups, global firms and production networks, and even financial markets. [3] Growing pressure on states to conform to new international standards of governance, particularly in the Areas of transparency and accountability. [4] The emergence of an increasing Western-dominated international culture, a trend which in many countries has sparked concern about the erosion of national identity and traditional values. [5] The rise of severe transnational problems that require multilateral cooperation to resolve. A close look at the play will reveal the relevance of the aforementioned characteristics in the sociopolitical and cultural relations between the characters in the play. The play opens up the disturbing circumstances that Developing nations face in today‟s globalized world. This can be seen from the dehumanizing attention given to the Third World by their exploitative First World that trade is even done in human organs. The Concept of Globalization and Its Debate Globalization is a phenomenon by which the experience of everyday life, as influenced by the diffusion of commodities and ideals, reflects a standardization of cultural expressions around the world. Page 61

Propelled by the efficiency or appeal of wireless communications, electronic commerce, popular culture, and international travel, globalization has been seen as a trend toward homogeneity that will eventually make human experience everywhere essentially the same. The instrumentality of media in aiding the real actualization of this homogenizing process must be emphasized. Indeed, many scholars have studied the link between globalization and media and „most theorists agree that there is practically no globalization without media and communication‟ (Rantanen 2005:4). Globalization has become a process in which worldwide economic, political, cultural and social relations have become increasingly mediated across time and space. According to Robertson (1992: 8) that globalization refers to „… the compression of the world and the intensification of consciousness of the world as a whole‟. This shows that the phenomenon has ossified the consciousness of the world toward the same cultural expressions and, to some degree, the awareness of the world. This denotes the de-localization of policies and programmes by government of countries thereby giving more space for global trends. But Robertson (1992:5) warns that „Global consciousness does not imply global consensus‟. Even as the world moves toward a process of integration into a common system, economical, social, cultural or commercial, there are still palpable signs of lack of agreement in the way events are happening and this is why there has been debate on the phenomenon of globalization. This view is akin to Worthen‟s that with the rise of global communications, global economy, and global political and military interests, social and political revolutions immediately become the world‟s business. They reshape the world we live in even as we watch the changes unfold on our television screens. Fortunately, television has not really transformed the world‟s diverse cultures into a single “global village”, but local cultures all feel the impact of events around the world (2004:1341). There are varying views on the impact of globalization in the world and below are a few of them. This paper cannot contain all the views on the phenomenon of globalization as the field is quite broad. So it is only proper to start with the views of the hyperglobalists, the skeptics and the transformationists on the debate on globalization. Hyperglobalists thought that contemporary globalization defines a new era in which peoples Everywhere are increasingly subject to the discipline of the global market place (Ohmae 1995). By contrast the skeptics argue that reality of an international economy increasingly segmented into three major regional blocs in which national governments remain very powerful. The financial and trading blocs are Europe, Asia-Pacific and North America. That the world is less integrated as it once was. Then the transformationists contend that contemporary patterns of globalization are conceived as historically unprecedented such that states and societies across the globe are experiencing a process of profound change as they try to adapt to a more interconnection by highly uncertain world. Also the new level of globalization debate is still a reflection of the early debate in which, on one side is the fear that the world is on a brink of collapse as a result of the finite resources it has and the environmental issues, inequalities and financial crisis that confront it. On the other side is the view that globalization and information technology are bringing about an era of opportunity and knowledge sharing unseen in human history. This, certainly, is not the view of Padmanabhan as described dramatically in her play Harvest. Globalization is one of the greatest challenges of this contemporary era because it gives very ambivalent feelings in the sense that on one hand, it looks as if developing nations are the only ones exposed to the effects of it, on the other hand, the phenomenon drags the world to the brink. However global the effects may be, the full brunt of globalization is experienced by poorer nations. Analysis of Harvest Written in the lineage of plays like Vacla V. Marvel‟s The Memorandum or Slawomir Mrozek‟s Tango, Manjula Padmanabhan‟s Harvest develops an absurd narrative of the structure of presentation and power in the contemporary globalized culture. For Harvest brilliantly allegorizes the relationship between the first and third worlds, literalizing the fundamental practice of globalization as its central situation: the third world provides the raw material that the first world consumes for its own survival and expansion. In Page 62

the play, Om has sold his body – through the aptly named InterPlanta services company – to an American “Receiver”. According to the term of his contract, he and his immediate family (his wife Jaya, who is forced by the contract to pretend to be his sister, his brother Jeetu, and his mother, Ma) will enjoy a First World standard of living and lifestyle –they will be clean, well-fed, entertained, and wealthy – until such time as his Receiver demands Om‟sorgans for his own survival. As the play develops however, the economic motives driving Om‟s sacrifice are gradually inflected by the mediatized relations of global culture. His family is consulted (on a giant-screen Contact Module that drops from the ceiling) by the Receiver, Virginia – or “Ginni,” whose name recalls the demonic djinni, or “genies” of Indian folktales- a “blonde and white – skinned epitome of an American style youth goddess” whose image floats above the room, and increasingly demands obedience from the family. Ma comes nearly to worship Ginni, but truly idolizes her new television, finally choosing to entomb herself inside a video sarcophagus –called the Video Paradise –where she will remain for the rest of her “life”. When the InterPlanta agents come to take Om, however, they mistakenly take his wastrel brother Jeetu, removing his eyes and replacing them with a contraption that project Ginni‟s sexy image, directly into his brain. Although Jeetu had been the most critical of the organ donation schemes, now all he can see is the Ginni‟s sultry image; he is seduced, and this virtual relationship leads him finally to “donate “his entire body. The play‟s brilliant satire fully takes in First World attitudes toward India, its fear of diseases, its anxiety about sanitation, it‟s in comprehension of family and social life, its ignorance of third world reality altogether. Replacing the family‟s food with “goat -shit” pellets, installing a toilet in the middle of its one -room apartment, dumping the family‟s possessions and replacing them with Western clothes and house wares, InterPlanta at once appears to improve the family‟s standard of living which cutting it off from real life altogether. Yet the final scenes seem to suggest a strategy of resistance. Once Ginni has harvested Jeetu‟s body, she reveals that “Ginni” had only been a computeranimation after all: Jeetu had been seduced to give up his body by the empty image of youthful, sexy America, an image projected to the world to conceal that the First World paradise is aging and impotent, supporting “the poorer sections of the world, while gaining fresh bodies for ourselves”. Virgil - the real Ginni - proposes that he (in the body of Jeetu) and Jaya have children to repopulate the First World; he even makes an insemination gadget appears outside the apartment while he is trying to close the deal. But if the body is, finally, what the Third World has to sell; it may still be possible to withhold it, to insist on a real rather than a meditated relationship with First World power. At the play‟s close Jaya seals herself inside the apartment, with its endless food supply and television, telling Virgil that if he wants to repopulate the first world, he will have to come to her, in the flesh. Harvest and the Evils of Globalization Globalization is evil because it does not foster the humanity of things in the world. What it drives towards is for the greater benefit of the developed or the First World countries. Khor (2005:1) opines that: The reasons for the changing perception of and attitude towards globalization are many. Among the important factors is the lack of tangible benefits to most developing countries from opening their economies, despite the well -publicized claims of export and income gains…. The economic losses and social dislocation that are being caused to many developing countries by rapid financial and trade liberalization, the growing inequalities of wealth and opportunities arising from globalization; and the perception that environmental, social and cultural problems have been made worse by the workings of the global free-market economy and the soaring degree of attack by elements of terrorism are some of what have characterized globalization today. It means developing nations have faced more problems than ever as a result of the phenomenon of globalization. In his very sublime analysis of Harvest, Rajkumar (2012:50) explains: Page 63

Harvest is an ironic examination of the relations between developing and Developed countries. The play is set in the imminent future, it imagines a grisly pact between the first and third world desperate (sic) people who can sell their body parts to wealthy clients in return for food, water, shelter and riches for themselves and their families. He further describes it as a “dystopian play” because nothing is good in the lives of Om and his immediate family. You sell your body organs in order to improve your standard of living, only for you to lose it all in the end. The play indicts America which is the greatest promoter of globalization and liberalization because Ginni –the Receiver of the body parts is American. She controls the family in the play until toward the end of the play. The play exposes the true extent of psychological coercion that abounds in the globalization world. It also shows the patterns of seduction and policing the developed world ensures on the developing world. Globalization deceives a lot that is why Om becomes ecstatic: “We‟ll have more money than you and I have named for! “He says to Ma “who‟d believe there is so much money in the world?”. When Jaya expresses her reservations for what he has done he becomes defensive: “You think I did it lightly. But … we will be rich! Insanely rich! But you‟d rather live in this one small room I suppose! Think it such as a fine thing. Like monkeys in a hot case lulled to sleep out by our neighbors rhythmic farting! … And starving. When Jaya accuses him of making the wrong choice he says: Om: I went because I lost my job at the company and why did I lose it? Because I am a clerk and nobody needs clerks anymore! There are no new jobs now; there is nothing left for people like us! Don‟t you know that? This is, of course, what the computer age makes us to believe that there are no jobs for less skilled people. But this is how Jaya responds: Jaya: you are wrong, there are choices, there must be choices. Om: Huh! I stood in queue and was chosen! And if not this queue, there would have been other queues Padmanabhan goes to the extreme of the unholy relations between the Third World and the First World where the basic commodities of exchange are the body organs. This is on the basis of individual autonomy. Om‟s last statement confirms the aghast state: “How could I have done this to myself? What sort of fool am I?.Om‟s mother, Ma, expresses no such regret, she is mesmerized: “What kind of job pays a man to sit at home?” The “new” mass culture engineered by globalization encourages consumption and a life of “abundance”. The InterPlanta services can be seen as some of the international organizations that aid in exploiting the developing nations of the world whether in terms of global politics, justice and economics. Organization such as the World Bank, IMF, International Court of Justice, etc have come to mean almost nothing to the Third World because of the „little‟ that is realized from them in terms of benefits and justice. Now Ginni represents the developed world and she appears to control everything that Om and his family do including the time they eat: Om: You know how Ginni hates it when we were late to eat”. Ginni ensures this control through her Contact Module which can also be seen as the hi-tech media gadgets used by advanced nations to mystify the Third World and further attract the latter on to itself Ginni keeps telling Om that he should make sure he smiles. This is because if he smiles, it means his body from which organs are going to be removed for the survival of Ginni is healthy. It means you should not complain when you are being exploited. Now Jaya, the only surviving character of the play, becomes the glimpse of hope of the Third World nations who opposes Om‟s decision in the final scene of the play, comes to the moment of no surrender. Om has abandoned Jaya having willfully chosen to seek out Ginni and give up his body to her. Ma is plugged into her Video Coach; Jaya faces Virgil, the unfamiliar voice on the Contact Module. She chooses to win by losing. This portends a lot for the developing nations. Globalization through its evils is pushing the developing nations to the brink, perhaps, to the moment where, like Jaya, it must threaten total annihilation.It would be wrong to say that it is inappropriate the way Padmanabhan portrays how the First Page 64

World cannibalizes the Third World to fulfill its own desires. Like Padmanabhan, artists in the developing world must rise to the occasion of salvaging their traditions and stick to what gives them identity, and guard their economies for their own survival. The Artist in the Age of Globalization Padmanabhan has written Harvest to remind us that the situation we are in is not comfortable for all of us in the age that we are in. Since this phenomenon is the defining process of this age, then artists must rise to the occasion to make sure that people do not neglect what has helped humanity right from time. A peep in to the prevailing socio-economic atmosphere of both the developed and the developing nations would reveal that the whole world is at a moment of unease. It cannot be a surprise if some one wonders whether we are happy or not. It is like what is said in the first paragraph to the masterpiece of the novel by Dickens (1859:1): It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us…. This is an apt description of the moment of this age. Everything works with its opposite. As paradoxical as it may be, but it is true The artist must remind humanity of where it was, where it is and where it is heading towards. This is because things are bad and shaky. Rodney expounds that: Development in human society is a many- sided process. At the level of the individual, it implies increased skill and capacity, greater freedom, creativity, self-discipline, responsibility and material well-being … At the level of social groups, therefore, development implies an increasing capacity to regulate both internal and external relationships. (1972:1-2). The playwright should guide his/her society towards the path of true impendence in production and utilization of what is produced. This is because every people have shown a capacity for independently increasing their ability to live a more satisfactory life through exploiting the resources of nature. Every continent independently participated in the early epochs of the extension of man‟s control over his environment-which means in effect that every continent can point to a period of economic development. So Asia, Africa and Latin America are not exceptions to this fundamental truth of existence. The playwright‟s role in the polity may not be piquant as he or she can invoke a moment of unease and make the audience to feel quite uncomfortable as in the case of Padmanabhan who creates a situation in the play that is really not palatable for a reader or an audience that is seeking pleasure. Padmanabhan confirms this factin an interview when says that: I knew at the time I wrote it that there would be no question of writing it for its own sake_ I had no doubt that a play of its type would find no takers in India_ and even after the publicity it got, the play has certainly not been popular in any form. It does not surprise me in the least. It presents a harsh view of reality and has very little comfort to offer the average reader (2006). It is really a play that elicits the description that is somewhat rough as in crass obscenity. This is because it deals with the sale of human parts - macabre like. She paints the picture of the Third World

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populace caught in the brackets of the exploitative First World who leave no chance of survival for the former. This scenario is really not comfortable to the reader/audience. In Nigeria, the situation is a little bit different; women are hired and gathered somewhere hidden to be impregnated by men. When those women deliver their babies, they are paid to leave the babies to the buyers. Those places are known in Nigeria as „Baby Factories‟. Most Nigerians believe that those babies are used for ritual or occultism. There is no practice or hegemony that is really beyond the probing pertinence of art. A lot of negative myths and stereotypes have been created about the Southern parts of the globe, though most countries in Asia and South America are getting their development efforts very correct, China, India, Malaysia, and Brazil among others are dominating the global economy today. It is also said that India has not really defined its position and policies in global politics that is if the praises it receives are not mere shibboleths. Pant (2008:1) states that: In its seventh decade after independence, India today stands at a crossroad in its relations with the rest of the world. Being one of the most powerful economies in the world today gives India clout on the global stage matched only by a few other states. Padmanabhan portrays India as a very vulnerable and helpless country in the hands of America which is representing other advanced world, while Pant sees India as capable of „shifting the global balance of power‟. This is why India‟s traditional view of world affairs has to change because of its growing stature in international system. Now India is expected to move to the Centre of operation in global politics when it had always viewed such a system with suspicion and in solidarity with other Third World nations. This can be seen through its years of “sloganeering” position. India still sees other world powers as imperial powers who perpetrate nothing but hegemony in the global markets, arts and politics. But African countries are taking very little to the globalization table; they are more or less consumer Nations and a dumping ground for all kinds of worn out and fairly used articles and materials including cars and clothes. Corruption, nepotism, tribalism, embezzlement of public funds, disregard for constituted authorities and the tension occasioned by terrorist attacks are the trappings that accompany the imperialistic tendencies in the continent. The duty of the playwright has long gone beyond what Achebe (2012:53) felt was the task in the hands of African writers toward the political independence of many African countries: What I can say is that it was clear to many of us that an indigenous African literary renaissance was overdue. A major objective was to challenge stereotypes, myths, and the image of ourselves and our continent, and to recast them through stories - prose, poetry, essays, and books for our children. That was my overall goal. African writers have more herculean task now than when they were about to gain their political independence. They must clear off the remaining vestiges of imperialism in their countries and use their tool of trade (pen) to attack through writing the socio-economic, cultural and political problems that are antithetical to their development. Also important is fact that the artist should charge his/her country men and women not to continue to Blame foreigners for their slow development and progress. But they should clear off corruption, laziness, lack of foresight and forthrightness and they should continue to expose the good endowments that they have, whether cultural or natural. Conclusion Padmanabhan has futuristically exposed the macabre that may likely befall the developing world if critical attention is not given to the phenomenon of globalization. This is what is expected of a visionary playwright of her own class and clout. Other writers have also exposed their fear and reservations for this Page 66

generation that is highly disillusioned. Martin (2007:7), in this book, „the Meaning of the 21 st Century “warns us that we are living in a “make-or-break century”. We are traveling at a “breakneck” speed into an age of extremes –extremes in wealth and poverty, extremes in technology and the experiments that scientists want to perform, extreme forces of globalism, weapons of mass destruction and terrorists acting in the name of religion. If we must survive, then we are expected to manage this situation. It is the frank position of the paper that the humanity in us should continue to be encouraged ahead of the globalization of the world. This means that humanity should be put first before inventions, profits, politics, etc. People should uphold what fosters the humanity in the world and not how much we connect in the world. Humanity of things will mean shaping a new global system that will manage globalization and post-unipolar world. This will mean the need for a genuine reform of our political and economic institutions so as to make them fit for a new age. Also,it hould also mean that concerted effort is channeled toward solving the political and environmental problems that will fit into the interconnected and highly complex global age. There should be the reconstitution of the membership of United Nations Security Council to include emerging powers like India, Japan, Brazil, Nigeria etc. because of their current level of development. This should be corroborated with deliberate effort to always seek the consent of both major and minor powers as decisions are taken on global issues. There should be more drama on globalization and its impact and effects on cultures and social life of nations. It is in the spirit of trying to change the fortunes of the developing countries that Padmanabhan wrote her play. This is because developing nations are the ones that are badly affected by the phenomenon.

THE DARK HOLDS NO TERROR Shashi Deshpande‟s Shashi Deshpande (Kannada: ಶಶಿ ದೇಶಪಾಂಡೆ) (born in 1938 in Dharwad, Karnataka, India), is an award-winning Indian novelist. She is the second daughter of famous Kannada dramatist and writer Sriranga. She was born in Karnataka and educated in Bombay (now Mumbai) and Bangalore. Abstract This paper entitled „man‟ in Shashi Deshpande‟s The Dark Holds No Terror deals with the men characters of the novel. Unlike the female characters the male characters too find it difficult to adjust with the modern society. Being an Indian, Deshpande‟s characters are also „Indian‟. The patriarchy, changed modern life style and empowerment of woman made the men character feel inferior to women characters. Sarita, the female protagonist of the novel is seen strong compared to her husband Manu. Her economic independence and her position as well established doctor made her husband feel inferior. Being the head of the family, he wants to have control over his wife, unconsciously develops a strange behavior which leads to sexual sadism. Deshpande‟s men characters are weak compared to her female protagonists. She has not sketched her men characters with a pre-occupied notion but the novelist is successful to depict both men and women characters as the victims of society. Introduction The Novel The Dark Holds No Terrors is about an literate, economically independent middle class woman ,who suffer as a girl, daughter, wife and very important as a self. She is made aware of being a female. Her loveless relationship with her parents and hollow relationship with her husband provoked her to search for her self - identity. The Novel opens with Saru‟s return to her ancestral home and swore never to return. But we could find womanliness specially an Indian one who does everything to save her marital life. And same is done by Saru, she ponders again and again to rehabilitate her broken relationship with her husband Manu. Saru‟s Character could be understood only if one go for her episodic life. Saru was avoided and given less importance than her sibling Dhruva. She suffers all the heaps of gender discriminations. The preference of boys over girls could be drawn in the novel. There is a color – consciousness inheriting in the novel. Saru‟s mother frequently reminds her of her dark complexion and avoids her going out in sun. This is Page 67

not due to the love but due to the responsibility of getting her married. Saru was blamed by her mother for her brother‟s death: “You did it, you did this, and you killed him.” The Dark Holds No Terror is an important novel written by Shashi Deshpande, an Indian women novelist. This novel explores the trauma of a middleclass working women who has become a trap in the male dominated society. Deshpande picturises her men and women characters as the victim of modern society. She has mastery over the depiction of her characters as natural and genuine. In this novel Sarita is the female protagonist who narrates the story. Through her narration we can understand her parents, dead brother Dhruva, her husband Manohar and her old teacher Boozie. Though the female protagonist undergoes certain trauma, dilemma she is strong and she decides not to protest against the oppression openly through breaking her familial life. The novel begins with Saru‟s return to her maternal home after a long gap of fifteen years and the novel ends with her return to her family with her husband Manu. This novel projects the typical Indian society, Indian men and women. Indian society expects man as the head of the family, who earns more than any other member of the family, who controls the family in every aspect of life. Saru realizes that always wife should be less or she should be a few feet behind her husband to lead a happy life. Deshpande‟s men characters are not so strong, compared to her women protagonists. The new roles of women as an educated housewife, job holder makes her men characters feel inferior and they find it difficult to the adjust with the changing modes of the family system and society. The novelist has not written her men characters with a pre-occupied notion but she treats both man and women characters equally. Both of them have their own weakness, shortcomings, feelings which the other can‟t understand. Manohar, Sarita‟s husband is purely an „Indian man‟, who is expected to control the family through providing comfort to his family. When the role of a woman changes from domestic life to a socially established professional, the man or the husband finds it very difficult to cope up with his role. In “The Dark Holds No Terror” the woman protagonist Sarita is a well-known doctor whereas her husband Manohar (Manu) is an underpaid college teacher. In the beginning, their life was normal but when Saru became an established practitioner and when people started to respect her, Manu develops a kind of guilty conscious in him. In one of the interviews, a female journalist asks Manu “How does it feel when your wife earns not only the butter but most of the bread as well?” At that time, he laughed with Saru. But this question underestimates his confidence and he feels inferior to himself. So he lets his wounded male pride manifest itself in the form of sexual sadism. He does it unconsciously, because next morning he will be a normal husband as usual1. Once, even he asks Saru what happened to her, what are these marks on her body. Manu does it in order to establish a control on her. The traditionally established role of a „man‟ in India makes him difficult to adjust. As his wife Saru has good earnings than Manu, when the society utters the same in a jovial manner in front of Manu, his male pride gets hurt. Once when both Manu and Saru had planned for a trip to Ooty while shopping they met Manu‟s colleague and his wife. When Manu revealed their plan, his colleague expresses his inability to afford such things, his wife replies he also could have afforded it if he had married a doctor. At this point he is humiliated. These incidents made Manu so violent; he doesn‟t behave like a husband in the privacy of their room at night but as a rapist. In this novel women characters dominate the men characters. Saru controls Manu and Booze and her mother establish control on her Baba. But compared to men characters, women characters are strong and dominating. After the death of her mother Saru realizes the strength of her father who was literally dumb when her mother was treating Saru inferior to her son Dhruva. Her father didn‟t protest, didn‟t comment or didn‟t oppose his wife for the same, but he ignored and led a busy life, in which he was busy with his work. Page 68

Saru‟s father was a incapable man when his wife was alive. He never used to oppose her even when she punished Saru for the mistake which was not hers. But later when she returns home she found her father managing everything with ease in the absence of her mother. Now she saw him as a matured, bold man, who listened to her problem patiently. Sarita through her profession and earnings, made her husband Manohar feel inferior to her. She made Boozie her teacher to help her in order to complete her degree and to be an established practitioner. In order to hide his homo sexuality, he roams and flirts with Saru. So these men characters seem the victims of the conservative society, where they find it difficult to cope with their roles. Apart from pediatrics, she learnt other things from Boozie, he taught her how to speak good English, he has improved her accent, taught her how to enjoy good food, how to read and what to read. She likes his masculinity, attractive laugh etc. Later she accepts financial help from him to open her own consulting rooms. She never cares about what people spoke about their relationship. She uses Boozie to advance her career, to achieve her goal of economic independence. After achieving her aim she simply neglects him. While she was still studying she considers her dingy room apartment as „a heaven on earth‟. But later when she had a very good life, comforts, status in the society she is not at all happy. Even though, Manu cooperates with Saru, to improve her status, later he himself develops inferiority about himself and his manly pride gets hurt when people come to know that his wife is earning more than what he earns. This inferiority develops in him and makes a way to sexual sadism2. Boozie the men character has been used by Saru, the female protagonist for her happiness. Saru tuned and managed them in such a way that their presence and company satisfied her needs. When she fulfilled her wishes she used to turn her back on them. The best example for this is Boozie, she wanted money and she wanted to be a reputed doctor, so she encouraged Boozie. She tried to please him allowing him to touch, hug her. She didn‟t mind what the other people will think about their relationship, after achieving her intention she just neglected him. Both Saru and Manu are the victims of patriarchy. To strengthen male characters Deshpande strengthened, and created female characters in such a way that they are bold and supportive to their husband and family. But in this mechanical world, they take opportunity to discuss each other‟s problem. So Deshpande tries to bring justice to her male characters through the portrayal of her female characters. Her male characters are the victim of the society, through the helplessness they suffer like women. Even though female characters talk a lot about the suffering, their inner trauma, victim of marital rape, the silence of the male characters conveys about their dilemma, suffering, inferiority, and maladjustment. So Deshpabnde not only projects the female as a victim but also shows how equally men characters too suffer and victimized in the society. But at the end, her men and women characters compromise and accept themselves as they are3. Deshpande sketches the role of women and men of middle class family where the female protagonists are highly qualified courageous and strong, they struggle to cope with the existing norms of the society even though the female characters protest against patriarchy. Deshpande makes them to surrender to circumstances through a sensible compromise within the family because Deshpande supports pro-women but not anti-man, she rejects a separatist stance, aware of the fact that breaking of the bonds of family would result in loneliness and disintegration of the larger social setup. Deshpande‟s men and women characters are caught between traditional upbringings and the longing for freedom in the modern society. Even though the male characters play less important place in narrative, the novelist portrayed them as supportive to female characters. Her male characters have been sons, husbands, fathers and the head of the family. These are the roles that demand different kinds of responses from men in the name of honour, dishonours, right, wrong, position, and hegemony, away in the context of patriarchy to find ideal manhood. So these male characters are forced to play the role of a controller who controls his family and fulfill his desires. When he failed to Page 69

perform the established role he too suffers or fears about the society. As he is a man he should earn more than his wife, he should be in front of his wife because he is a man. Sarita protests against the oppression silently but she is not ready to take a bold step like divorce, because of her Indian mind set. So she patches up the relation with Manu. Totally Saru is capable of managing the male characters to satisfy her needs, wishes fulfilled. So Deshpande projects even the men characters are the victims of the society. Totally these men characters are tradition bound and face the problem of adjustment.

A HANDFULL OF RICE Kamala Markandaya About the Novelist Kamala Markandaya (1924 – 16 May 2004) was a pseudonym used by Kamala Purnaiya Taylor, an Indian novelist and journalist. A native of Mysore, India, Markandaya was a graduate of Madras University, and afterwards published several short stories in Indian newspapers. After India declared its independence, Markandaya moved to Britain, though she still labeled herself an Indian expatriate long afterwards. Beginning THE POLICEMAN WAS WATCHING HIM. HE LET GO or THE RAlLlNG AND WALKED AS steadily as he could to the unlit turning in the road and waited. When he walked on the policeman followed; he had big boots on: probably a sergeant. „Hey, you!‟ „Me?‟ „What‟s your name?‟ „That‟s my business.‟ The heavy experienced hand spun him round; his arm was held and twisted behind his back, he knew he was helpless. „Answer.‟ „Ravi. Ravishankar.‟ „Ravishankar. You‟re drunk. Where did you get it?‟ Another twist. The pain made him furious. „You bastard,‟ he said, and bent his head. The khaki cloth was strong, but it ripped under his teeth, his sharp white buck teeth. He felt the flesh split, and it was, momentarily, as voluptuous as a climax. He ran, heard the man‟s sharp yelp, and gloated. Big boots was after him, very hard and purposeful; but the feet inside were Indian, unused to running in boots. He, Ravi, on the other hand, though barefoot was drunk, which evened the odds. Well, he was not so drunk that he could not shake off his official tail. Abruptly he stopped, looked for a turning, doubled back on his tracks. The street must have lain parallel, the

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pounding boots sounded very close as they passed, unseen. The sound died. He leant against a wall, waiting. The silence continued. Night had saved him, the darkness to which he was used, and the fact that there were no people about. People, he thought. People were everywhere, swarming like ants. They weren‟t necessarily against you, or for you: they were simply there and if there was a chance they became a mob and followed, bellowing: got in the way, until some poor devil like himself was trapped. He spat his disgust. „Hey, you!‟ He whirled round. Set high in the wall was a small window with a rusty grille in front, wooden shutters behind. The louvres were open; he could just see a pair of eyes through the slits. Clear out, do you hear? Waking respectable people up in the middle of the night! Clear out, double quick.‟ „Why?‟ He leant more comfortably against the wall. „I‟m doing no harm. Just resting.‟ „Just resting, are you. Well, you can‟t rest here. Go find a chatram. I‟ll give you just one minute.‟ „No.‟ „Then I‟ll call the police. The police, my lad. They‟ll soon get you moving.‟ The police. He began to laugh softly, looking up at the terrified eyes glimmering palely behind the wooden shutters. „And how will you send for them? You will have to come out first and I‟ll hack you into little pieces before you‟ve taken one step, you poor old fool.‟ He slid down, rocking with laughter, until his head touched the rough ground. Above him the shutters squeaked, the stiff vanes were being forced to slant down at an extreme angle so that the eyes could squint down at him. He laughed again; it came out like a girl‟s giggle. „You lout,‟ the voice said. „You no-good lout, you‟re drunk.‟ Rage filled him. He levered himself up slowly. „Drunk, am I,‟ he said distinctly. „I‟m not only dmnk, I‟m starving, I tell you.‟ Waves of giddiness assailed him. It would have been better not to have remembered that, he thought, and he lowered his head and waited; but the sickness would not pass and he began to retch, gross heaving spasms that wrenched his stomach, though nothing came up. „Go away,‟ the voice said. The heaving subsided. Furious anger mounted strongly in him again.He thrust his face close to the grating. „Listen,‟ he said. „I‟m hungry, I want a meal. You let me in, do you Page 71

hear? I‟ll give you one minute.‟ Go away.‟ The voice quavered-either an old man or a weak man, a man without men behind him. He stretched his hands up to the grille and grasped the crossbar, triumphantly, sweetly conscious of his strength. „One minute,‟ he said, „then I‟m coming in and it‟ll be the worse for you.‟ Silence. He tightened his grip and wrenched, and the bar broke, spattering rusty grit on him. „You see?‟ „All right, all right, I‟m coming.‟ The voice mumbled nervously. He reached up and broke another bar, for good measure, while he waited. „Please don‟t do any more damage.‟ This time bolts rattled in earnest. The wooden door creaked and opened. Inside stood the man, cowering. He had thrown a shawl around his shoulders and lighted a hurricane lantern; the light trembled with him. „What do you want?‟ „Food, I told you,‟ he said impatiently. „And be quick.‟ The light retreated, returned. There was bread, buttermilk, a small sweet potato. He ate, keeping one hand on the rusty broken-off bar. The man watched, both eyes on him, hardly daring to blink. The old fool, Ravi thought, the bar wouldn‟t have cracked a saucer, let alone a skull. Anyhow, did he really look such a thug? He finished, blotting up the last crumbs with a wet thumb; wondered whether he should call for more, just to savour the feeling of power, but decided he was full. „ls that all?‟ The voice still quavered and shook. „Yes,‟ he said, and changed his mind. „No,‟ he said, peremptorily. He felt commanding, conscious of dominion: this was what they felt like, the people who said „Hey, you! ‟, who gave orders and expected you to jump to it, who had money, who had power, who did the pushing around. Well, tonight he would do the pushing. „A bed,‟ he said. „l‟m staying the night. And make it soft-just anything won‟t do.‟ His host stood wavering, reluctant, aghast. „Go on, get moving.‟

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He spoke sharply, saw the instant reaction, and exulted. This was what life should be like: this was what he wanted his life to be like: and he tested and savoured the revelation, vouchsafed for the span of one night. In the morning-well, he knew that in the morning his brief reign would be over. The old fool would come into his own again, shed his coward‟s mantle and become a man of strength-the householder, the ratepayer, the outraged citizen entitled to raise a hue and cry against vagrants like himself. It was only in the jungle, by night, that they were equal. By morning he intended to be gone. There was a mat, a mattress, a pillow, a shawl-luxury. He was reeling and log-heavy with sleep. He pulled the bedding over to the door and spread it. The old man was watching him. For a moment he hesitated, then he shrugged. If he did, he did, that was all. There was no avoiding that risk. „No monkey tricks,‟ he said with concentrated ferocity, curled himself up and slept. WHEN HE WOKE IN THE MORNING HE FOUND THAT HE COULD NOT MOVE. A bicycle chain was fastened round his ankles, its free length clamped under a big stone mortar; and his arms had been crossed and bound in a woman‟s cotton sari which in turn was tied to a tin trunk. The mortar he could not shift, but when he heaved the trunk moved, allowing his torso limited play. It also roused his guard, a fat, middle-aged woman who sat nearby, half fearful, half ferocious, a rolling pin clutched in her hand. „Don‟t you dare move, do you hear?‟ Her voice was very shrill. He was partially sitting up. The position was insupportable, he had to move. Instantly she began hitting him. The blows fell indiscriminately- back, shoulders, head. Too late, he tried to avert his face: the blow caught his temple, splitting an eyebrow and almost stunning him. Blood began to drip, a warm trickle down his face, vivid scarlet on the white cloth imprisoning his arms. He stared at the spreading stain, stupidly. Was this really happening to him, Ravi, bound like a criminal, beaten as if he were a mad dog? Pain and bewilderment combined; he lowered his head into his arms, so that the woman should neither see him bleed nor weep. „My God, what have you done to him!‟ The man had returned. His face was mottled and discoloured with shock. „I didn‟t mean to . . . I swear it. I thought he was trying to escape-‟ „Never mind what you thought! Water, quickly.‟ The woman brought water, a towel, rags tn staunch the flow. The man released him, fears forgotten in horror of bloodshed, grunting and straining as he shifted the heavy imprisoning weights, his meagre frame bent with the effort. „Here, hold up your head. It‟ll help to stop the bleeding.‟

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He did so, obediently, thankfully abrogating his responsibilities to their will. She bathed his eyes, his temple, the cut eyebrow, dried the wound and bound it. The man unbuttoned his shirt, his hands moved over Ravi‟s back, pressing and probing. „No bones broken, thank God.“ „The cut is quite shallow too. Thank God.‟ They stared at him, awkwardly, waiting for him to-well, what the hell did they expect him to do, walk out with a bloody bandage on and his head swimming like a shoal of fish? He said, bitterly, „What did you have to hit me like that for?‟ „What did you expect, breaking in like a ruffian?‟ „I was hungry,‟ he said sullenly. „I hadn‟t eaten-‟ „But you were clrunk.‟ He looked at the old man, hating him, but the hate guttered away like a cheap candle, dissolving into drab listlessness. He shrugged. „So would you be,‟ he said, „if all you had was one rupee between you and kingdom come.‟ „You could have bought a meal,‟ the old man said accusingly, „instead of boozing. A rupee buys a very reasonable meal.‟ „Yes, and what then?‟ He roused himself. „I didn‟t want to buy reason, I don‟t want to buy reason, what I wanted to buy was something quite different, something that would stop me thinking about tomorrow because the more I think of it the sicker I get-sick, sick of it!‟ One must!‟ The old man was shocked, the shock overriding even his agitation in the face of violence. „A young man like you-you must think of the future!‟ „What future?‟ he sneered. „lt‟s bad enough getting through the day, without dragging that in!‟ „You mustn‟t talk like that.‟ Now the woman was starting on him. „Why shouldn‟t I?‟ he shouted. „You know nothing about me, nothing about how I feel or why I feel it!‟ They took no notice of him. They were no longer even afraid of him. Where was his power of the night? Reduce everything to the jungle, he thought, and then see-see who is the beater, and who the beaten- down. He lay back, his head throbbing. He was alone. The man had gone to the tap in the courtyard to wash, he could hear the water splashing, purling along the runnels that skirted the sides. The woman had gone too. She had washed first, and was now clattering about in the kitchen. They, he thought, had taken up their ordinary lives again, the routine of it, the order, leaving him to-to do what? Hey you! He wanted to shout, but he could not: you had to get in the habit of it first, he thought, and you didn‟t acquire the habit until you

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were on the up-and-up, not down and out like himself. The shouting came after the summit. Ah, the summit! It was almost a physical sensation, the craving to be there. He got up and went to the kitchen and stood in the doorway because he could not get in, it was so small. A blackened range ran along one wall, with firewood and charcoal stacked at the end. At the other stood the woman, fanning a slow fire over which a brass vessel simmered. „What do you want?‟ She didn‟t even stop fanning. „I ought to be going,‟ he mumbled. „Either come in or go away, will you?‟ she said over her shoulder. „I can‟t see what I‟m doing.‟ He turned sideways and flattened himself in the opening, so that he should not obstruct the light. „I‟m going now,‟ he spoke more loudly. „No, no, no,‟ she said, „everything‟s nearly ready. You mustn‟t start the morning on an empty stomach.‟ „lt won‟t be the first time.‟ He said it as a matter of fact, without self- pity, but it stopped her in what she was doing, the back she had turned on him was straight and attentive. „Never mind about other mornings,‟ she said at last, and set to work again. He stood watching. She was younger than he had at first thought: perhaps forty, but flabby from too much flesh. He could see the veins standing out on her arms as she lifted the heavy vessel off the fire and he went to help but she waved him away. „I can manage.‟ She took off the lid and a cloud of white steam rose, bringing familiar and tempting smells to his nostrils. He peered into the steamer, knowing exactly what he would see: three idlis, composed in clover pattern in the steamer, each wrapped in butter muslin, well risen, rounded and pure white. His mouth began to water. „Here you are.‟ There were two for him on a square of plantain leaf, with ghee, pickle, a tumblerful of coffee. If I had a wife, he thought as he ate, she would cook for me, it would be like this every day . . . but what had he to offer to get himself a wife? I‟ll buy her a little house, small but nice, he thought as he finished, and some nice new shiny aluminium cooking vessels, these brass things are too heavy, old-fashioned . . . and with a job one can save say a quarter of one‟s wage„How are you feeling?‟ „Oh. I‟m all right.‟ „Head ache?‟

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„Well, it was a bit of a clout.‟ Without any warning her indignation exploded. „What right have you to criticize? Didn‟t you deserve what you got? Perhaps a few more blows and you would really have learnt your lesson!‟ She was about to strike him again, he thought, the bitch! He said, furiously, „l‟ve got a good mind to complain to the police about you.‟ „The police!‟ She was gasping with anger. „Yes, that‟s just what we should have done, gone straight to the police, it‟s not worth taking pity on you and your like.‟ She turned to her husband. „Come on, we can still go, it‟s not too late by any means. They‟ll have you under lock and key They would, he thought dully; he didn‟t stand a chance, especially if that bastard of a sergeant was there and his luck was such that he would be. He didn‟t stand a chance even if he was innocent, and he wasn‟t innocent, even he knew that. „It was only a joke,‟ he said uncomfortably, swallowing his anger. „We don‟t understand jokes like that in this house.‟ He had finished everything, the last crumb, the last drop of coffee. He folded the four corners of his leaf inwards, picked up the parcel fastidiously, between finger and thumb, took it out into the street and flung it into the open gutter where cows were nosing. Then he came back, washed his face and hands and the tumbler he had drunk from, poured water over his feet and finally stood before her. „I‟m going now.‟ She looked up. Her anger had simmered down to indignation. „Behaving like that,‟ she said, „a decent boy like you!‟ He went out. Decent? When had he last been decent? Not since he had left that arid dump in the village which his mother, and indeed their neighbours, Iyingly labelled „a decent home‟. What had been decent about it? When he tried to be honest he knew that what was decent about it was its honesty. They did not lie, they did not cheat, they did not steal. But then in that small struggling farming community what was there to steal? As far back as he could see they had all lived between bouts of genteel and acute poverty-the kind in which the weakest went to the wall, the old ones and the babies, dying of tuberculosis, dysentery, the „falling fever‟, „recurrent fever‟, and any other names for what was basically, simply, nothing but starvation. The pattern must have gone on a long time, for generations, because nobody objected, nobody protested, they just kept going, on and on, and were thankful that they were able to. And yet, somewhere, a leaven must have been at work, a restlessness, a discontent in the towns whose spores had spread even as far as the villages so that suddenly it was not good enough and first one home and then another began to lose its sons, young men like him who felt, obscurely, that it was not right for them and-this with conviction-that it would be utterly wrong for their children.

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Where now? He whittled it down, as he had learnt to do, from a contemplation of the future to the next actual hour. He could go and work in the coffee shop, earn himself the few coppers he needed to tide him through the day. Or he could rout up some of the gang for a game of dice which they played against chits that mortgaged the next day‟s earnings. Or he could go and hang around the docks, where there might be a small job going. Then he remembered his head. It felt better, almost well, but he could hardly be expected to do anything with his head swathed like this. Anyhow, who expected him to? No one, he had no one. Well, there was only one thing to do-rest. He began to walk-at last with some vague sense of purpose. **** They had made the station their headquarters for the time being-he and one or two others. It made a good base, rent free, where they could be sure of meeting one another, where one or other could be trusted to keep watch over their pitch and their possessions, removing themselves at speed whenever the railway banchots came along to carry on the war against just such as they. At this time of day it was not difficult to get in. The crush grille was „Don‟t boast.‟ „Anyhow, that is how I got in! Go and ask them if you like.‟ „Where‟s the house?‟ „Oh. Near George Town.‟ „In it?‟ „No, near. One of those streets that run-‟ he stopped. „Near the brewery?‟ „Why do you want to know?‟ „Want to keep a good thing to yourself, do you?‟ said Damodar, and beneath the teasing Ravi felt the steel. „All I got was a meal,‟ he said. „It just happened that way, I tell you! I wouldn‟t-l mean those people, they weren‟t too bad, I wouldn‟t want „Who said I was going to do anything?‟ Damodar slapped his stomach, which was lean and curved inward. „All I want is a meal-a nice hot home-cooked meal, not bazaar muck-but if you don‟t want anyone on easy street except yourself-‟ „It‟s not that!‟ „-I suppose I better start shifting for myself.‟ „Where are you going?‟ Ravi asked nervously. „The coffee shop. That‟s probably my best bet.‟ „I‟ll come too.‟ Page 77

„What for? You don‟t want to work when you don‟t need to!‟ „You can have my share,‟ Ravi offered. Damodar grinned broadly and slapped him on the back. „Ai, you have got a soft conscience! But you‟re a decent one, I‟ll say that for you: a decent one.‟ In the night Ravi grew uneasy again. They took it in turns to sleep, but even when it was his turn he could not. Curled up on a bench, his head resting on his bedroll, he watched Damodar, dozing on guard duty beside the swing doors of the waiting room, and wondered whether he had not said too much. Really, he would not like any harm to come to the couple who had-not exactly coddled him, but they had not thrown him to the wolves either. Supposing Damodar-? Damodar who knew the brewery, who knew all the bootleggers in town, who knew the town like the back of his hand-it would not take him long to pinpoint the house with the broken grating. And his friend wasn‟t like him, a country youth newly up from a village. Damodar was a city slicker, born and bred in the streets of the city, with city standards that were not exactly different from his own but tougher, more elastic, so that Ravi was never sure exactly how far they would stretch. Usually it did not concern him. He knew that life was a battle in which the weak always went under; he accepted the fact that the man who did not do all he could to keep on top was a fool. He would never fault Damodar on that score. It was simply that he had some way to go yet in toughening his own fibre, flabby from all those homilies on decency. In his corner Damodar yawned and stretched and came shambling over. „Up, lazy.‟ „It‟s not my turn yet.‟ „It is. „How do you know?‟ „Clock in my head.‟ It was true, Damodar did have a timekeeping brain. His own had broken down. The clock that in the country woke him with precision, toldhim the time of day, here refused to work, or buzzed fitfully, giving wrong information. One day, when he had money to spare, he would buy himself a clock-an alarm with a soft repeating chime and a luminous dial„Come on.‟ „All right. I‟m coming.‟ He grumbled, but he was glad to be up; it was a tedious affair, pretending to sleep when he could not. Damodar had no such block. In two minutes he was snoring gently, his thin body careless of the hard wooden bench.

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BY MORNING RAVI HAD CAPITULATED. HE WOKE DAMODAR FIRST. SHAKING HIM TO make sure he was fully awake, and then he slipped out, leaving him to his own devices. There was nothing unusual in this: they worked in partnership only when it suited them: and today it did not suit him at all. From the station to George Town was a fair trek, but one he could ordinarily take in his stride. Today, however, his steps lagged, and although he tried to put it down to his battered head he knew it was because he was hopelessly unsure of what to do. Warn the couple to watch out? They would only suspect a trap, and anyway, how long could they maintain this vigilance-days, months?-it was clearly impossible. Offer his services as unpaid night watchman? He smiled faintly: there was a foreseeable certain end to that: himself in the cells. Well, he would see when he got there. Meanwhile getting there was proving difficult, for try as he might he could not remember the location of the street in relation to George Town. George Town itself he knew and knew well. It skirted the docks, was its unproclaimed clearing house, and into the maze of streets that penetrated inland poured the products of a thriving industry, the world‟s underground trade. Here he had seen the wine butts coming in, from Porto Novo and Pondicherry and round the Cape from as afar off as Mahé and Goa; and hemp, opium, bhang, hashish-all the deadly disguises of the beautiful poppy offloaded under the noses of the customs men from junks that had wallowed in from Rangoon and Singapore and even, it was rumoured, from the China ports. It was the first territory he had got to know. and it was Damodar who had initiated him, who had told him of the pickings to be had by those who did. What he had found out for himself was that initiation and novitiate were still not enough, for the pickings here glittered and were not for small fry like himself. One day he would take the next step: graduate upwards. or was it deeper into the maze . . . and then, ah yes. then he could live, really begin to live. Meanwhile they waited in the wings, and sometimes he (more often Damodar) was approached by a remittance man, guarded in speech to the point of incomprehensibility. Or offered the overspill from a liquor or drug peddling job. Some things were troublesome, but flogging duty-free spirits was easy. There were handsome profits to be made here, and out of this came a handsome cut for himself. More important were the contacts he made, the middlemen he met, the places he discovered-tea houses, lodging houses, warehouses with irreproachable mercantile facades from which a blessed oblivion could be bought. It was from one of these that he had reeled. the night the policeman had been watching. and he remembered he had clutched at railings-quite suddenly the shutter in his brain slid back. he knew exactly what the railings looked like, where they were. the street up which he had run, the wall he had leant against. He laughed to himself. It was easy, once you got your mind moving. only you had to give it a hefty shove or two first. He rode his confidence all the way to the house and there suddenly it bolted. leaving him on his own to negotiate difficult ground. What next? He stared nervously at the window set high in the wall. It was the same one all right: there were the two bars still missing, the brown wooden shutters behind. These were open. but there was no way of seeing in unless he stood on something. or jumped up and down. There was nothing to stand on. He began to jump, and instantly the busy street stopped minding its own business. People! He swallowed his anger. walked away. down the street. up another. and came back again. The shutters were still open. the door closed. It was a heavy door. Studded with round brass nails that were sunk and rusted into the wood, and it had a brass handle. also rusted and black. in the shape of a snake curled nose tip to tail. He didn‟t remember this handle- the night had been too dark. or his senses too fuddled. He put his hand on it and a voice said. „What are you doing?‟ Page 79

He leapt back. He felt the shock travelling up his arm. exactly as if the snake had come alive and bitten his hand. „lt's you.‟ said the woman, „again. Up to no good. Hanging round just waiting for a chance-‟ in a moment, he thought. she would be hollering and if the police came-he could be as innocent as a newborn babe. he thought. and it wouldn‟t make one blind bit of difference. they would take her word against his to hang him. „No. no. no.‟ he said rapidly. revitalized by hard thinking that produced an inspired explanation, „You've got it wrong i wasn't going to-to do anything. i was just wondering if i could put the bars back for you seeing it was i who did the damage.‟ „You‟re lying.' At least she wasn't yet shouting. That was a good sign. He stole a shrewd look at her. Yes. he was right. Her face was undecided, nowhere as harsh as her words. „Ah. madam.‟ he said, „il‟ i could lie to you i would lie to my own mother.” „I expect you do.‟ „Madam, believe me . . .' He drooped in her doorway, defeated. pathetic. He had. he knew. a soft face 'dolly'. they called him sometimes, or „softie'. or „baby face'. It could occasionally be useful, although more usually it generated a vast irritation. „Are you sure you can make a good job of it? It‟ll save me having to send for someone.‟ Bitches. he thought. all of them: greedy for free labour. grudging a rupee to some poor devil in the bazaar who would have been glad of the money. He made his face brighten. „Yes, easy. Make you sleep sounder in the night when I‟ve done.‟ The point was. he could relax too. He almost laughed: tell her that. And she would be instantly. unshakeably convinced he was a liar. „Well. come in then.‟ She moved her great bulk at last. „I suppose you‟ll need some tools.‟ She went away. shouting to some girl to bring something. God, he thought. what lungs. what a voice. He looked about him. it was a small house, but not so small that he would have minded owning it. The room he was in was small too-perhaps twelve feet square. This was where he had broken in, where he had been battered . . . it looked very different at this time of day. In one comer bedding rolls were neatly stacked, one on top of the other-eight of them. he thought incredulously. where had these other people been buried that night? He had been luckier than he realized to escape further injury. Against a farther wall. where most light

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fell. stood a Singer sewing machine, surrounded by bobbins and reels. ribbons and tape. festoons of material. So the old man was a tailor-a craft that was neither exciting nor lucrative. His interest dwindled. From within he could hear women‟s voices. two. three. then a man‟s voice joined in. Really. the place was swarming „Here you are.‟ A girl came in with a box of tools. „My mother said to give you these.‟ Her mother! He was astounded. She was young. pretty. Her hair hung person. a cloth affair tucked in at her waist. lie wanted to thrust it back. but he conquered the impulse: he could not afford to be all that high and mighty. One day: not now. Besides. there was the girl. she of the gentle voice and beautiful hair who had not said anything. who was obviously to cowed by her mother to do so. But she had stood apart, apart from her mother. and she had the grace to look ashamed. By the time he reached the blacksmith the money had begun to burn a hole in his pocket. There was a lot he could buy for five rupees. things that he needed over and above basic props like food which was all that his earnings ever ran to before his energies expired. Besides. people like that old sow deserved to be biliked: it was what they expected of you so you gave it to themWhy deny them the satisfaction of having been right? “ten he thought again. Alter all. she had changed her mind. She had given him the money. Moreover there was Damodar. his eye on easy money-Damodar. who made him vaguely uneasy although they were partner's. Not that even Damodar could do much. with that horde that seemed to be encamped in the house-but suppose they were asleep? At night most ordinary people were asleep. and Damodar moved like a cat. he could pick Ravi„s pocket without waking him. Well then. would bars restrain him? He tried to say no; but in his heart he knew they would. Noise. The thought of hue and cry. Put them of many an enterprise. and not even Damodar could remove the stout bars he intended putting up without a good deal of noise. enough to wake the whole street. Well. he thought. the thing had more or less decided itself for him. At the threshold of the smithy he hesitated again. fingering the note in his pocket. There was so much that he needed. that he went without day alter bloody day. „Ah. Ravi! „ 11m blacksmith turned. momentarily putting aside his bellows. „Changed your mind and come to work for me. have you?‟ „I‟Il let you know.‟ said Ravi. „when I decide i want to die at forty.‟ Kannan chuckled. he was a short. Thickset man with a barrel and chest horseshoes hanging on the wall. he admired the skill and precision that went into their making and if he could have ordered the world to his will he would have ensured that a value was set upon them less despicable in terms of money than the prevailing one. “Ravi. give it a blow will you? There's a good chap.“ Ravi took up the bellows and began to work it. The coal glowed like a small inferno. It was special highgrade stuff. Kannan said; it had to be to produce this smelting heat. a heat in which iron could be bent and flattened and fashioned at will. “Ready now.‟ Kannan advanced. bearing in tongs the short heavy strip of metal that he held to the fire. playing it over the surface until the grey grew radiant. A quick twist into shape and on to the anvil . . . ah. what skill. Ravi thought. what a skilled deployment of strength! He leant forward in admiration as the hammer blows fell. swift. disciplined. exactly where Kannan intended “Finish off. will you. Ravi?‟ Page 81

Ravi began filing the rough edges. soothed by the rasp. the smooth powdery feel of the metal when he had finished- Four hot se shoes. a set of four finely fashioned shoes with the four square holes for the nails that Would bolt them on to the living proof. . . it was with a sense of satisfaction that he strung them together and hung them up. By now he had forgotten what he had come for. “Here. will these do?‟ “What for?‟ “A window. you said. that's right.“ Ravi returned to himself. “You don't suppose i want to batter someone over the head with them. do you?“ “Who knows?“ Kannan considered him judicially. “On the whole. no- although someone‟s taken a bash at you.„ “Oh. that.‟ said Ravi. “that just happened. Bit of a mistake really.“ He began to examine the bars-he did not want to talk about that affair. „All right?‟ „Yes. fine. I'll need six . . .' he picked out the rods. „What do you want fix them?‟ “Nothing. lad. 1hey‟te spate. don‟t even know where they came from.‟ „You must.‟ Ravi urged. “It isn't my money. The old sow paid up- had to. In a way. Hem. look!‟ “You keep it.‟ Kannan waved the note away. „lt'll keep you out of mischief.„ Ravi bound the rods together and hoisted the bundle on to his shoulder. „Well. thanks.„ “It's nothing,„ Kannan named again to his loose. He banged away. hoping, although it was not his business. that Ravi would not use the bars on human beings. On the whole he thought not; but you mild new: be sure about yet-issuers nowadays. they seemed to be driven by devils sterner than those his generation had lawn. RAVI WAS JUBILANT AS HE LOPED THROUH THE TOWN.HE WOULD ME OLD bitch it had cost Four Rupees. give her one rupee chaise. and he in pocket to the nice tune of (our rupees. After all she expected to be rooked: he might as mil oblige. give her the pleasure of having been right. although of course she wouldn‟t know that. But he knew: he knew she had been right. Well then he wouldn't. he thought with a kind of sick determination. he wouldn„t prove her right. Page 82

His resentment against her rose like a wall. When he got back the home seemed to him to be swarming with People-he almost backed out again in distaste. From within came the sound of a good many voices. Women predominating, and in the front room with the gaping window three men and a boy were crammed round the sewing machine. Seated in a sea of billowing material. Although only one of them seemed to he really working, “What do you want?‟ 1hey all looked at him. „lt's all right.‟ This was the old man he had cowed. no longer a trembling hulk but a householder in full authority. „A workman to fix the window. My wife sent for him. ‟Jayarnma‟s workman.‟ There was a murmur-reverser. it seemed to He looked down in astonishment at the coin coyly slipped into his palm. It was twenty-five naye paise-a quarter of a rupee. Thank you.‟ he said- „Are you sure you can spare it? I'll take good care to see I don‟t spend it all at once.‟ This time at least he had got under her skin-skin. he thought. My god. it's not skin. what it is hide. what they get alter years and years of toughening up. of not looking. of not caring to look. of glazing their eyes when they do. But this time he had pierced it. hide or skin whatever it was. She was staring at him. glaring at hint. moving her mouth around and shaping words although no sound came. it was almost funny. He thought. and at that moment the girl giggled. It was a small giggle. but it was not a nervous one. a reaction to an imminent explosion from the older woman. She was really amused-amused with him. on his side: for the first time in as long as he could remember decent girl was on his side. He stole a glance at her. and was nearly thrown into a fit of laughter himself. She had drawn her sari over the lower part of her face like a yashmak. and over this her eyes peered. round and swimming with tears of smothered laughter. What a girl. he thought. Take a girl like that. And half a man's troubles would be over. He was in high good humour almost before the door hanged behind him. IN THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED RAVI THOUGHT ABOUT HER A LOT THIS GIRL WITH the bright eyes and the thick. Glossy hair. Who could transform a man‟s life. He would have liked to meet herproperly. Not as a labouring coolie in her father‟s house; to talk to her as an equal. to get to know her. as other young men came to know young girls. Within the approving. Carefully continued circle of mutual friends and family relationships. But how? He took painful stock of himself. He had no family, and without them who would arrange it? He had left his family. a long time ago-three years was it?-as his brothers had done. as all the young men he knew had done or wanted to do. Joining the exodus to the cities because their villages had nothing to offer them the cities had nothing either. Although they did not discover this until they arrived: but it held out before them like an incandescent carrot the hope that one day. Some day. There would be something. His own father had half believed in it. in this shining legend of riches in the city-and not only because he had to. There being nothing in the village for the sons of a small rack-rent tenant farmer like himself. But because the vision had burned so long in his brain during years of fear had been proud of this learning. had insisted on it as a key to the power of earning which was the broad base of a man's pride. had taken his whip

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to his whimpering sons to drive them to it. But he had been wrong The key opened no doors: it closed them. for his education did not allow Ravi to compete against the gaunt. shabby-genteel young graduates who hung around the streets. While it had taken from him the ability to work with his hands except in an amateur capacity. So what did that leave him with? The analysis was hurting now. probing regions so raw that he usually kept them well shielded. He could read. he could write-not only the vernacular but English- English because that had been the language of the overlords when he was a boy. and if you aimed anywhere higher that the rut you were in. learning it was one of the routes. He was young. Able-bodied. Healthy. He had a certain quickness of hand and eye and mind which gave him a fractional advantage in his dealings with men. With these assets then. which added up sizeably. was it still true to say that in this city of hundreds of thousands of inhabitants. each with a hundred needs. there was no job for him between coolie and clerk? Ravi wanted to stop drinking, but he could not. He laid his throbbing head on his arms while the inquiry went on. Somewhere. Certainly. There was such a job. It was the drag round the streets. and the searching. And the wait and the frustration and bearing the pinpricks that the haughty rich always had in plenty for the poor. which he had not been able to endure Then Damodar had come along. With his introductions to a whole gang of young men like himself. and his passport to a world shot with glitter and excitement: a world that revived the incandescent glow the city had once kindled; and suddenly the terror and the loneliness were gone. Lifted from the load whose other components were hunger. the lassitude of hunger. and the terror of losing his identity in an indifferent city which was akin to death. Of course much of this world. this dazzling world. Lay in the future: but every kind of fear and privation became bearable in the light of its bright promise. Yes. Damodar had helped: but would Damodar be able to help him in his relations with this girl? Would any of his friends? He almost smiled. Produce any of that set. he thought grimly. and he might as well write finis to this chapter of his dreams. “Ai. Ravi! What‟s the matter. girl trouble?‟ it wasn't only that of course: but he could not go into all the details of his discontent. He nodded silently. “No need to fret. man!‟ Damodar banged him encouragingly on the back. „She'll come round in the end. They all do.‟ „Not this one.‟ Ravi spoke out of his depression. „She's-different.‟ “When we're smitten we all think that.‟ Damodar laughed. „Believe me. my dear Ravi. girls are all the same. i know them‟ Ravi knew. too. the sort of girls Damodar knew: bazaar girls who were two a penny. who jolted with you with unseemly camaraderie. Who scarcely bothered to draw the cloth of their saris over their breasts; or who were to be seen riding in rickshaws at night on the Marina between Mylapore and the Fort, hidden behind grimy white (tapes in perverted semblance of the habit of a nun. That sort of girl was not for him-never. never! lie almost trembled. Contrasting them with the chaste young beauty who had crossed his path. Page 84

„Come on. man.‟ Damodar urged. 'out with it.‟ „Well.‟ said Ravi weakly. “there's not much to tell.‟ and then a little to his surprise he found himself recounting what had happened. leaving out only the address, the actual locale. from a deeply grounded nervousness of Damodar. “And then what happened.‟ asked Damodar. Listening carefully. „After she took your side. I mean. Finish the story.‟ „But that‟s It.‟ said Ravi. Feeling he had welshed on his friend. „She giggled. I came away. That‟s all.‟ carefully. never forcing the pace. allowing novices to step gingerly over a borderline at which they had earlier baulked. willing to sacrifice a plum or two rather than lose a recruit. The warehouse was more than a pit-n. it was a whole orchard. Damodar. Ravi knew. had been itching to have a crack at it. Had desisted only because he knew he could never do it on his own. A large tin shed. it lay within sight and hailing distance of the docks and. indeed. Was periodically floodlit by a powerful beam from the lighthouse beyond; but few took notice of what seemed a dump for empty sacks and battered petrol tins. or looked beyond the untidy squatters' shacks that further disfigured it. Fewer still knew that it was in effect a bonded warehouse although the goods in bond had never come under customs scrutiny. Or suspected that the complex system of rate-fixing and exaction of dues was operated by a ring at least as efficient and well organized as any of the more respectable commercial houses. Ravi had been inside once. in the early days. and had come away bemused by what he was shown. the vast collection of silks and satire. bolts of brocade and velvet that lined the shelves from floor to ceiling, Later there were other visits. after he had proved he could keep his mouth shut-visits during which his suspicions hardened that what he saw concealed a good deal of what he was not meant to see. But even this visible truth seemed rich enough to him. as gradually he came to appreciate the wealth that was locked up here in this finery. in these French chiffons. Genoese velvets. Hinton lace. imported to satisfy the whims of conditioned women who could have been served as well by Benares or Bangalore. but who believed that a foreign label conferred a certain cachet. a little indefinable something that set them above the common herd. Commercial interests would have caterer! for their needs: but in these post-British days there were bans. quotas import restrictions imposed by a government more interested in fostering national industry than in pandering to the rich. So the black marketeers took over. Even here. Ravi discovered. there were circles within circles. the full ramifications of which he did not yet know fully. He knew. however. Damodar's ring: the small operators who lived off the backs of the large operator's. although the reprisals against those caught were so ferocious that Damodar had great difficulty in gathering henchmen for his bolder schemes. As he himself savagely said. he was limited by the timidity of his followers. “There's the warehouse.‟ Damodar repeated He watched Ravi. Coldly willing him to acquiesce. „Yes‟ Ravi shrugged. throwing off the pressure he mild feel being exerted on hint. „I don't see the connection.„ „Don‟t you?‟ Damodar leered. „Or don't you want to? What I‟m saying is take him a bolt or two. brocade. what you will. and you'll have the OldMan eating out of your hand.„

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It was true enough. Ravi knew. With material like that to offer. a tailor wild choose his memsahib and fix his price. instead of the other way round. No questions would be asked. for fear of cutting off the supply; and there was little risk. for it was entirely beyond official scope to crack down on every petty trader hawking forbidden goods. On the point of acceptance. Ravi hesitated. felt tempted. then hung back again. He had no particular scruple about lifting goods from the warehouse. After all. As he told himself. It was not exactly stealing. for they should not have been there in the first place; and taking it further back. Why shouldn‟t people bring into the country what they wanted? If it was wrong. it was a paper thing. nothing to do with morals as he now practised them; but it was pertinent in the context of those respectable connections for which he intended a determined bid Furthermore, the proposal Frightened him. Tweaking the nose of the law was one thing, Operating against one‟s kind entirely another; unsavoury, and frightening. He said; “We couldn‟t do it.” “Why not?` Damodar‟s voice was edged „There‟s the watchman.„ He forced himself to go on. “Two of them, night and day.‟ „Easy.‟ Damodar rubbed thumb and finger together in the universal gesture betokening bribery. „Grease their palms.‟ „With what?‟ „With the proceeds.‟ „lt‟s dangerous.‟ „Isn‟t life?‟ Ravi was suddenly very weary. He would do it for her, he told himself sullenly: for her sake, not his. Anyhow, what did it matter: what mattered now, at this moment of time through which he was living, was not to have to hold out against Damodar any longer. And Damodar was right, he saw that: life was hazardous in all its aspects, and was it to be reckoned more so here because the danger was blatant and obvious, than in a village where it was hidden in duller, more insidious forms? There were. After all, mantraps everywhere. It was the first step that counted: this had been one of his father's maxims. automatically rejected along with scores of others. Now however. Ravi endorsed it. for here he was. as a result of that first step. ensconced in a house to which he would never otherwise have gained entry. Acceptance. of course. was another matter: but he mild see it coming as he worked at it assiduously. collecting and delivering for Apu. running errands for Jayamma. never saying no to whatever task he was set to do. Already there were signs that the older woman was softening. Nowadays. if he came early. she “mild bring him an apam. with some of her own home-made pickle. or if it were evening a tumblerful of coffee. The old man. too-roughly from the time his loving greedy fingers hadfelt the rich. heavy textures of Ravi„s offering-appeared to be revising his earlier unfavourable impression. He spoke to him now as to the son of an equal. some other worthy tradesman: and once or twice Ravi had felt himself being thoughtfully studied. as if the old man were considering absorbing him into the busy hive of his industry. Page 86

it was. Ravi knew. within his power to do so: for despite appearances it was Apu who ran the business. who took the decisions. who held the household together. Jayamma. large and vocal. carried the appurtenances of strength: it was her mouse-like husband who exercised it. Ruminating on it Ravi sometimes felt affronted. indignant almost. that this shrivelled- up nonentity. whom he had seen by night cowering and cringing before him. should by day order him about here and there. At these times he would wrap the jungle around him for comfort . . . ah yes. the jungle. Its darkness. its lawlessness. where a man„s strength and courage alone gave him mastery . . . live by jungle law. and then see who survived! Mostly. however. he did not resent Apu. Indeed. as the days went by his respect for the old man grew. at least one ingredient of which was a kind of reverence for the fact-incredible it seemed to Ravi- that he had fathered Nalini. Nalini. his girl. He said it to himself sweetly. roundly. secretly. and it sometimes made him want to break and tear whatever upheld it. And sometimes actually. physically ill with rage. It was these rages that had driven him out in the end; and when he went he had meant to cut himself off for good. But there was nothing irrevocable about this. no boats had been burnt: unlike some others. He had left with a prudent minimum of denunciation and declamation, so that theoretically he still had access to his village and family. But he shrank from the actuality-quite apart from having to find the train fare. Far better. he thought. to summon them here. where the work was to be done. So he wrote. giving Apu‟s address as his own for what else could he do? And a month later. by which time he had bitten his nails down to the quick, came a postcard from his father-who in turn had had to look for his train fare. in addition to finding a reader of his son‟s letter. and a writer for his own-to say that. As requested, he would gladly see about negotiating the marriage. and that he would be arriving in due time. This Ravi interpreted. rightly, as presaging another long delay. Fortunately for him he used it in looking for accommodation for his father, eventually striking a bargain with the coffee shop proprietor who had a small private room for his richer customers. seldom used after ten at night. which he was willing to allow the old man to sleep in. But for this he would have been seriously incommoded. for one aftenoon, some months later. without warning. he found his father standing on the doorstep. Actually it was Thangam who heard the nervous knocks and opened the door. She did not quite understand what he said-his speech was slow and rustic. and somewhat impeded by the sight of an obviously married young woman-but from the strong resemblance she gathered who it was and ran in to tell Ravi. „Your father!‟ she cried. her big healthy face beaming. „You must be so happy!‟ *********

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﷽ ISLAMIAH COLLEGE (AUTONOMOUS) VANIYAMBADI NEWTOWN Department Of English M.A (English Literature) 1st Year Second Semester

SHAKESPEARE (UNDER CBSC) TEXT BOOK For First Year Postgraduate Course Subject Code: P6EN2003

EDITED BY

S.M.ABRAR AHMED.M.A, DTAS, DCHM, DNT, DMT, HDCA 223/74 K.K.STREET MUSLIMPUR VANIYAMBADI – 635751

SHAKESPEARE

Units

Page No.

William Shakespeare Biography

01

The Elizabethan Theatre and Audience

05

Trends in Shakespeare Studies

10

Unit II

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

15

Unit III

King Lear

22

Unit IV

Macbeth

31

Unit V

As You Like It

41

Unit I

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE BIOGRAPHY NAME OCCUPATION BIRTH DATE DEATH DATE DID YOU KNOW?

William Shakespeare Playwright, Poet April 23, 1564 April 23, 1616 By the early 1590s, William Shakespeare was a managing partner in the Lord Chamberlain's Men, a popular theater company.

DID YOU KNOW? In 1599 Shakespeare and his business partners started their own theater company called the Globe. DID YOU KNOW? Some historians have questioned whether William Shakespeare actually existed, considering the scant evidence on him. EDUCATION King's New School PLACE OF BIRTH Stratford-upon-Avon, United Kingdom PLACE OF DEATH Stratford-upon-Avon, United Kingdom NICKNAME "Bard of Avon" "Swan of Avon" "The Bard" WHO WAS WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE? William Shakespeare, also known as the "Bard of Avon," is often called England's national poet and considered the greatest dramatist of all time. Shakespeare's works are known throughout the world, but his personal life is shrouded in mystery. FAMOUS QUOTES ―The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.‖ Who was William Shakespeare? William Shakespeare (baptized on April 26, 1564 to April 23, 1616) was an English playwright, actor and poet also known as the ―Bard of Avon‖ and often called England’s national poet. Born in Stratfordupon-Avon, England, he was an important member of the Lord Chamberlain’s Men company of theatrical players from roughly 1594 onward. Written records give little indication of the way in which Shakespeare’s professional life molded his artistry. All that can be deduced is that, in his 20 years as a playwright, Shakespeare wrote plays that capture the complete range of human emotion and conflict. William Shakespeare Known throughout the world, the works of William Shakespeare have been performed in countless hamlets, villages, cities and metropolises for more than 400 years. And yet, the personal history of William Shakespeare is somewhat a mystery. There are two primary sources that provide historians with a basic outline of his life. One source is his work — the plays, poems and sonnets — and the other is official documentation such as church and court records. However, these only provide brief sketches of specific events in his life and provide little on the person who experienced those events. William Shakespeare’s Plays While it’s difficult to determine the exact chronology of William Shakespeare’s plays, over the course of two decades, from about 1590 to 1613, he wrote a total of 37 plays revolving around several main themes: histories, tragedies, comedies and tragicomedies. Early Works: Histories and Comedies With the exception of the tragic love story Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare's first plays were mostly histories. Henry VI (Parts I, II and III), Richard II and Henry V dramatize the destructive results of weak or corrupt rulers, and have been interpreted by drama historians as Shakespeare's way of justifying the origins of the Tudor Dynasty. Julius Caesar portrays upheaval in Roman politics that may Page 1

have resonated with viewers at a time when England’s aging monarch, Queen Elizabeth I, had no legitimate heir, thus creating the potential for future power struggles. Shakespeare also wrote several comedies during his early period: the witty romance A Midsummer Night's Dream, the romantic Merchant of Venice, the wit and wordplay of Much Ado About Nothing, the charming As You Like It and Twelfth Night. Other plays written before 1600 include Titus Andronicus, The Comedy of Errors, The Two Gentlemen of Verona, The Taming of the Shrew, Love’s Labour’s Lost, King John, The Merry Wives of Windsor and Henry V. Works after 1600: Tragedies and Tragicomedies It was in William Shakespeare's later period, after 1600, that he wrote the tragedies Hamlet, Othello, King Lear and Macbeth. In these, Shakespeare's characters present vivid impressions of human temperament that are timeless and universal. Possibly the best known of these plays is Hamlet, which explores betrayal, retribution, incest and moral failure. These moral failures often drive the twists and turns of Shakespeare's plots, destroying the hero and those he loves. In William Shakespeare's final period, he wrote several tragicomedies. Among these are Cymbeline, The Winter's Tale and The Tempest. Though graver in tone than the comedies, they are not the dark tragedies of King Lear or Macbeth because they end with reconciliation and forgiveness. Other plays written during this period include All’s Well That Ends Well, Measure for Measure, Timon of Athens, Coriolanus, Pericles and Henry VIII. When and Where Was William Shakespeare Born? Though no birth records exist, church records indicate that a William Shakespeare was baptized at Holy Trinity Church in Stratford-upon-Avon on April 26, 1564. From this, it is believed he was born on or near April 23, 1564, and this is the date scholars acknowledge as William Shakespeare's birthday. Located 103 miles west of London, during Shakespeare's time Stratford-upon-Avon was a market town bisected with a country road and the River Avon. Family William was the third child of John Shakespeare, a leather merchant, and Mary Arden, a local landed heiress. William had two older sisters, Joan and Judith, and three younger brothers, Gilbert, Richard and Edmund. Before William's birth, his father became a successful merchant and held official positions as alderman and bailiff, an office resembling a mayor. However, records indicate John's fortunes declined sometime in the late 1570s. Childhood and Education Scant records exist of William's childhood, and virtually none regarding his education. Scholars have surmised that he most likely attended the King's New School, in Stratford, which taught reading, writing and the classics. Being a public official's child, William would have undoubtedly qualified for free tuition. But this uncertainty regarding his education has led some to raise questions about the authorship of his work and even about whether or not William Shakespeare ever existed. William Shakespeare’s Wife and Kids William Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway on November 28, 1582, in Worcester, in Canterbury Province. Hathaway was from Shottery, a small village a mile west of Stratford. William was 18 and Anne was 26, and, as it turns out, pregnant. Their first child, a daughter they named Susanna, was born on May 26, 1583. Two years later, on February 2, 1585, twins Hamnet and Judith were born. Hamnet later died of unknown causes at age 11. Shakespeare’s Lost Years There are seven years of William Shakespeare's life where no records exist after the birth of his twins in 1585. Scholars call this period the "lost years," and there is wide speculation on what he was doing Page 2

during this period. One theory is that he might have gone into hiding for poaching game from the local landlord, Sir Thomas Lucy. Another possibility is that he might have been working as an assistant schoolmaster in Lancashire. It is generally believed he arrived in London in the mid- to late 1580s and may have found work as a horse attendant at some of London's finer theaters, a scenario updated centuries later by the countless aspiring actors and playwrights in Hollywood and Broadway. Lord Chamberlain's Men By the early 1590s, documents show William Shakespeare was a managing partner in the Lord Chamberlain's Men, an acting company in London with which he was connected for most of his career. Considered the most important troupe of its time, the company changed its name to the King's Men following the crowning of King James I, in 1603. From all accounts, the King's Men company was very popular. Records show that Shakespeare had works published and sold as popular literature. Although the theater culture in 16th century England was not highly admired by people of high rank, many of the nobility were good patrons of the performing arts and friends of the actors. William Shakespeare the Actor and Playwright By 1592, there is evidence William Shakespeare earned a living as an actor and a playwright in London and possibly had several plays produced. The September 20, 1592 edition of the Stationers' Register (a guild publication) includes an article by London playwright Robert Greene that takes a few jabs at William Shakespeare: "...There is an upstart Crow, beautified with our feathers, that with his Tiger's heart wrapped in a Player's hide, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you: and being an absolute Johannes factotum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country," Greene wrote of Shakespeare. Scholars differ on the interpretation of this criticism, but most agree that it was Greene's way of saying Shakespeare was reaching above his rank, trying to match better known and educated playwrights like Christopher Marlowe, Thomas Nashe or Greene himself. Early in his career, Shakespeare was able to attract the attention of Henry Wriothesley, the Earl of Southampton, to whom he dedicated his first- and second-published poems: "Venus and Adonis" (1593) and "The Rape of Lucrece" (1594). By 1597, Shakespeare had already written and published 15 of his 37 plays. Civil records show that at this time he purchased the second largest house in Stratford, called New House, for his family. It was a four-day ride by horse from Stratford to London, so it is believed that Shakespeare spent most of his time in the city writing and acting and came home once a year during the 40-day Lenten period, when the theaters were closed. Shakespeare’s Globe Theater By 1599, William Shakespeare and his business partners built their own theater on the south bank of the Thames River, which they called the Globe. In 1605, Shakespeare purchased leases of real estate near Stratford for 440 pounds, which doubled in value and earned him 60 pounds a year. This made him an entrepreneur as well as an artist, and scholars believe these investments gave him the time to write his plays uninterrupted. Shakespeare’s writing Style William Shakespeare's early plays were written in the conventional style of the day, with elaborate metaphors and rhetorical phrases that didn't always align naturally with the story's plot or characters. However, Shakespeare was very innovative, adapting the traditional style to his own purposes and creating a freer flow of words. With only small degrees of variation, Shakespeare primarily used a metrical pattern consisting of lines of unrhymed iambic pentameter, or blank verse, to compose his plays. At the same time, there are passages in all the plays that deviate from this and use forms of poetry or simple prose. Page 3

Shakespeare’s Death Tradition has it that William Shakespeare died on his 52nd birthday, April 23, 1616, though many scholars believe this is a myth. Church records show he was interred at Trinity Church on April 25, 1616. In his will, he left the bulk of his possessions to his eldest daughter, Susanna. Though entitled to a third of his estate, little seems to have gone to his wife, Anne, whom he bequeathed his "second-best bed." This has drawn speculation that she had fallen out of favor, or that the couple was not close. However, there is very little evidence the two had a difficult marriage. Other scholars note that the term "second-best bed" often refers to the bed belonging to the household's master and mistress — the marital bed — and the "firstbest bed" was reserved for guests. Did Shakespeare Write His Own Plays? About 150 years after his death, questions arose about the authorship of William Shakespeare's plays. Scholars and literary critics began to float names like Christopher Marlowe, Edward de Vere and Francis Bacon — men of more known backgrounds, literary accreditation, or inspiration — as the true authors of the plays. Much of this stemmed from the sketchy details of Shakespeare's life and the dearth of contemporary primary sources. Official records from the Holy Trinity Church and the Stratford government record the existence of a William Shakespeare, but none of these attest to him being an actor or playwright. Skeptics also questioned how anyone of such modest education could write with the intellectual perceptiveness and poetic power that is displayed in Shakespeare's works. Over the centuries, several groups have emerged that question the authorship of Shakespeare's plays. The most serious and intense skepticism began in the 19th century when adoration for Shakespeare was at its highest. The detractors believed that the only hard evidence surrounding William Shakespeare from Stratford-upon-Avon described a man from modest beginnings who married young and became successful in real estate. Members of the Shakespeare Oxford Society (founded in 1957) put forth arguments that English aristocrat and poet Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford, was the true author of the poems and plays of "William Shakespeare." The Oxfordians cite de Vere's extensive knowledge of aristocratic society, his education, and the structural similarities between his poetry and that found in the works attributed to Shakespeare. They contend that William Shakespeare had neither the education nor the literary training to write such eloquent prose and create such rich characters. However, the vast majority of Shakespearean scholars contend that William Shakespeare wrote all his own plays. They point out that other playwrights of the time also had sketchy histories and came from modest backgrounds. They contend that Stratford's New Grammar School curriculum of Latin and the classics could have provided a good foundation for literary writers. Supporters of Shakespeare's authorship argue that the lack of evidence about Shakespeare's life doesn't mean his life didn't exist. They point to evidence that displays his name on the title pages of published poems and plays. Examples exist of authors and critics of the time acknowledging William Shakespeare as author of plays such as The Two Gentlemen of Verona, The Comedy of Errors and King John. Royal records from 1601 show that William Shakespeare was recognized as a member of the King's Men theater company (formerly known as the Chamberlain's Men) and a Groom of the Chamber by the court of King James I, where the company performed seven of Shakespeare's plays. There is also strong circumstantial evidence of personal relationships by contemporaries who interacted with Shakespeare as an actor and a playwright. Literary Legacy What seems to be true is that William Shakespeare was a respected man of the dramatic arts who wrote plays and acted in some in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. But his reputation as a dramatic genius wasn't recognized until the 19th century. Beginning with the Romantic period of the early 1800s and continuing through the Victorian period, acclaim and reverence for William Shakespeare and his work

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reached its height. In the 20th century, new movements in scholarship and performance have rediscovered and adopted his works. Today, his plays are highly popular and constantly studied and reinterpreted in performances with diverse cultural and political contexts. The genius of Shakespeare's characters and plots are that they present real human beings in a wide range of emotions and conflicts that transcend their origins in Elizabethan England.

THE ELIZABETHAN THEATRE AND AUDIENCE Elizabethan Theatre Audiences The Elizabethan Theatre Audiences attracted people from all classes - the Upper Class nobility and the Lower class commoners. Elizabethan Theatre Audiences What a treat the theater was for the people of Elizabethan London. Histories, Tragedies and Comedies written by the greatest playwright of them all - William Shakespeare. The popularity of the theater reached people from all walks of life - from Royalty to the Nobility and the Commoners. What was a day out at the Elizabethan theater like for the audiences? Where did they sit? How much did it cost? What did they eat? What were the amenities like? How did illiterate members of the public know what plays were being presented?  London Theatregoers - The London play goers loved the Theatre. It was their opportunity to see the great plays and each other.  Elizabethan Audience Capacity - the theatres could hold 1500 people and this number expanded to 3000 with the people who crowded outside the theatres  Royalty - Queen Elizabeth I loved watching plays but these were generally performed in indoor playhouses for her pleasure. She would not have attended the plays performed at the amphitheaters  The Nobles - Nobles would have paid for the better seats in the Lord's rooms paying 5d for the privilege The Commoners called the Groundlings or Stinkards would have stood in the theatre pit and paid 1d entrance fee. They put 1 penny in a box at the theatre entrance - hence the term 'Box Office'  The Box Office - the prices were determined by the comfort of the seats  Special effects were also a spectacular addition at the Elizabethan theaters thrilling the audiences with smoke effects, the firing of a real canon, fireworks (for dramatic battle scenes) and spectacular 'flying' entrances from the rigging in the 'heavens'.  The Facilities ranged from basic to non-existent.  Flags, Crests and Mottos - Advertising - Flags were erected on the day of the performance which sometimes displayed a picture advertising the next play to be performed. Colour coding was used to advertise the type of play to be performed - a black flag meant a tragedy, white a comedy and red a history. A crest displaying Hercules bearing the globe on his shoulders together with the motto "Totus mundus agit histrionem" (the whole world is a playhouse ) was displayed above the main entrance of the Globe Theater. This phrase was slightly re-worded in the William Shakespeare play As You like It - "All the world’s a stage" which was performed at the Globe Theater. The Globe Theatre audiences The Elizabethan general public (the Commoners) referred to as groundlings would pay 1 penny to stand in the 'Pit' of the Globe Theater. The gentry would pay to sit in the galleries often using cushions for comfort. Rich nobles could watch the play from a chair set on the side of the Globe stage itself. Theatre performances were held in the afternoon, because, of course, there was limited artificial lighting. Men and women attended plays, but often the prosperous women would wear a mask to disguise their identity. The Page 5

plays were extremely popular and attracted vast audiences to the Elizabethan Theatres. There were no toilet facilities and people relieved themselves outside. Sewage was buried in pits or disposed of in the River Thames. The audiences only dropped during outbreaks of the bubonic plague, which was unfortunately an all too common occurrence during the Elizabethan era. This happened in 1593, 1603 and 1608 when all Elizabethan theatres were closed due to the Bubonic Plague (The Black Death). The theatre as a public amusement was an innovation in the social life of the Elizabethans, and it immediately took the general fancy. Like that of Greece or Spain, it developed with amazing rapidity. London's first theater was built when Shakespeare was about twelve years old; and the whole system of the Elizabethan theatrical world came into being during his lifetime. The great popularity of plays of all sorts led to the building of playhouses both public and private, to the organization of innumerable companies of players both amateur and professional, and to countless difficulties connected with the authorship and licensing of plays. Companies of actors were kept at the big baronial estates of Lord Oxford, Lord Buckingham and others. Many strolling troupes went about the country playing wherever they could find welcome. They commonly consisted of three, or at most four men and a boy, the latter to take the women's parts. They gave their plays in pageants, in the open squares of the town, in the halls of noblemen and other gentry, or in the courtyards of inns. Regulation and licensing of plays. The control of these various companies soon became a problem to the community. Some of the troupes, which had the impudence to call themselves "Servants" of this or that lord, were composed of low characters, little better than vagabonds, causing much trouble to worthy citizens. The sovereign attempted to regulate matters by granting licenses to the aristocracy for the maintenance of troupes of players, who might at any time be required to show their credentials. For a time it was also a rule that these performers should appear only in the halls of their patrons; but this requirement, together with many other regulations, was constantly ignored. The playwrights of both the Roman and the Protestant faith uses the stage as a sort of forum for the dissemination of their opinions; and it was natural that such practices should often result in quarrels and disturbances. During the reign of Mary, the rules were strict, especially those relating to the production of such plays as The Four P's, on the ground that they encouraged too much freedom of thought and criticism of public affairs. On the other hand, during this period the performance of the mysteries was urged, as being one of the means of teaching true religion. Elizabeth granted the first royal patent to the Servants of the Earl of Leicester in 1574. These "Servants" were James Burbage and four partners; and they were empowered to play "comedies, tragedies, interludes, stage-plays and other such-like" in London and in all other towns and boroughs in the realm of England; except that no representation could be given during the time for Common Prayer, or during a time of "great and common Plague in our said city of London." Under Elizabeth political and religious subjects were forbidden on the stage. Objections to playhouses. In the meantime, respectable people and officers of the Church frequently made complaint of the growing number of play-actors and shows. They said that the plays were often lewd and profane, that play-actors were mostly vagrant, irresponsible, and immoral people; that taverns and disreputable houses were always found in the neighborhood of the theaters, and that the theater itself was a public danger in the way of spreading disease. The streets were overcrowded after performances; beggars and loafers infested the theater section, crimes occurred in the crowd, and 'prentices played truant in order to go to the play. These and other charges were constantly being renewed, and in a measure they were all justly founded. Elizabeth's policy was to compromise. She regulated the abuses, but allowed the players to thrive. One order for the year 1576 prohibited all theatrical performances within the city boundaries; but it was not strictly enforced. The London Corporation generally stood against the players; but the favor of the queen and nobility, added to the popular taste, in the end proved too much for the Corporation. Players were forbidden to establish themselves in the city, but could not be prevented from building their playhouses just Page 6

across the river, outside the jurisdiction of the Corporation and yet within easy reach of the play-going public. This compromise, however, did not end the criticism of the public. Regulations and restrictions were constantly being imposed or renewed; and, no doubt, as constantly broken. In the end this intermittent hostility to the theater acted as a sort of beneficient censorship. The more unprincipled of the actors and playwrights were held in check by the fear of losing what privileges they had, while the men of ability and genius found no real hindrance to their activity. Whatever the reason, the English stage was far purer and more wholesome than either the French or Italian stage in the corresponding era of development. However much in practice the laws were evaded or broken, the drama maintained a comparatively manly and decent standard. There was no Calandra, no Aretino or Machiavelli of the Elizabethan stage. Companies of actors. In 1578 six companies were granted permission by special order of the queen to perform plays. They were the Children of the Chapel Royal, Children of Saint Paul's, the Servants of the Lord Chamberlain, Servants of Lords Warwick, Leicester, and Essex. The building of the playhouses outside the city had already begun in 1576. One of the popular catches of the day runs: List unto my ditty! Alas, the more the pity, From Troynovant's old city The Aldermen and Mayor Have driven each poor player. This banishment was not a misfortune, but one of the causes of immediate growth. There was room for as many theaters as the people desired; a healthy rivalry was possible. In Shoreditch were built the Theater and the Curtain. At Blackfriars the Servants of Lord Leicester had their house, modeled roughly after the courtyard of an inn, and built of wood. Twenty years later it was rebuilt by a company which numbered Shakespeare among its members. In the meantime, the professional actor gained something in the public esteem, and occasionally became a recognized and solid member of society. Theatrical companies were gradually transformed from irregular associations of men dependent on the favor of a lord, to stable business organizations; and in time the professional actor and the organized company triumphed completely over the stroller and the amateur. Playhouses. the number of playhouses steadily increased. Besides the three already mentioned, there were in Southwark the Hope, the Rose, the Swan, and Newington Butts, on whose stage The Jew of Malta, the first Hamlet, The Taming of the Shrew, and Tamburlaine had their premieres. At the Red Bull some of John Heywood's plays appeared. Most famous of all were the Globe, built in 1598 by Richard Burbage, and the Fortune, built in 1599. The Globe was hexagonal without, circular within, a roof extending over the stage only. The audience stood in the yard, or pit, or sat in the boxes built around the walls. Sometimes the young gallants sat on the stage. The first Globe was burned in 1613 and rebuilt by King James and some of his noblemen. It was this theater which, in the latter part of their career, was used by Shakespeare and Burbage in summer. In winter they used the Blackfriars in the city. At the end of the reign of Elizabeth there were eleven theaters in London, including public and private houses. Various members of the royal family were the ostenstible patrons of the new companies. The boys of the choirs and Church schools were trained in acting; and sometimes they did better than their elders. Composition and ownership of plays. Scholars and critics have inherited an almost endless number of literary puzzles from the Elizabethan age. A play might be written, handed over to the manager of a company of actors, and produced with or without the author's name. In many instances the author forgot or ignored all subsequent affairs connected with it. If changes were required, perhaps it would be given to some well known playwright to be "doctored" before the next production. Henslowe, who had an interest in several London theaters, continuously employed playwrights, famous and otherwise, in working out new, Page 7

promising material for his actors. Most dramatists of the time served an apprenticeship, in which they did anything they were asked to do. Sometimes they made the first draft of a piece which would be finished by a more experienced hand; sometimes they collaborated with another writer; or they gave the finishing touches to a new play; or revamped a Spanish, French, or Italian piece in an attempt to make it more suitable for the London public. The plays were the property, not of the author, but of the acting companies. Aside from the costly costumes, they formed the most valuable part of the company's capital. The parts were learned by the actors, and the manuscript locked up. If the piece became popular, rival managers often stole it by sending to the performance a clerk who took down the lines in shorthand. Neither authors nor managers had any protection from pirate publishers, who frequently issued copies of successful plays without the consent of either. Many cases of missing or mutilated scenes, faulty lines or confused grammar may be laid to the door of these copy brigands. In addition to this, after the play had had a London success, it was cut down, both in length and in the number of parts, for the use of strolling players--a fact which of course increased the chances of mutilation. Performances. Public performances generally took place in the afternoon, beginning about three o'clock and lasting perhaps two hours. Candles were used when daylight began to fade. The beginning of the play was announced by the hoisting of a flag and the blowing of a trumpet. There were playbills, those for tragedy being printed in red. Often after a serious piece a short farce was also given; and at the close of the play the actors, on their knees, recited an address to the king or queen. The price of entrance varied with the theater, the play, and the actors; but it was roughly a penny to sixpence for the pit, up to half a crown for a box. A three-legged stool on the stage at first cost sixpence extra; but this price was later doubled. The house itself was not unlike a circus, with a good deal of noise and dirt. Servants, grooms, 'prentices and mechanics jostled each other in the pit, while more or less gay companies filled the boxes. Women of respectability were few, yet sometimes they did attend; and if they were very careful of their reputations they wore masks. On the stage, which ran far out into the auditorium, would be seated a few of the early gallants, playing cards, smoking, waited upon by their pages; and sometimes eating nuts or apples and throwing things out among the crowd. At first there was little music, but soon players of instruments were added to the company. The stage was covered with straw or rushes. There may have been a painted wall with trees and hedges, or a castle interior with practicable furniture. A placard announced the scene. Stage machinery seems never to have been out of use, though in the early Elizabethan days it was probably primitive. The audience was near and could view the stage from three sides, so that no "picture" was possible, as in the tennis-court stage of Paris. Whatever effects were gained were the result of the gorgeous and costly costumes of the actors, together with the art and skill with which they were able to invest their rôles. The inn-court type of stage required a bold, declamatory method in acting and speaking; and these requirements were no doubt speedily reflected in the style of the playwrights. England was the last of the European countries to accept women on the stage. In the year 1629 a visiting company of French players gave performances at Blackfriars, with actresses. An English writer of the time called these women "monsters"; and the audience would have none of them. They were hissed and "pippin-pelted" from the stage. Boy actors were immensely popular, and the schools were actually the training ground for many well known comedians and tragedians. The stigma of dishonor rested, however, upon the whole profession, playwrights, players, and on the theater itself. The company in the pit was rough, likely to smell of garlic and to indulge in rude jests. The plays were often coarse and boisterous, closely associated with bear-baiting and cock-fighting. Playwrights and actors belonged to a bohemian, half-lawless class. The gallants who frequented the play led fast lives, and were constantly charged with the corruption of innocence.

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Comparison between an Elizabethan and an Athenian performance affords interesting contrasts and similarities. The Athenian festival was part of an important religious service, for which men of affairs gave their time and money. Every sort of government support was at its disposal, and manuscripts were piously preserved. All this was contrary to the practice of the Elizabethans, who tried to suppress the shows, lost many of their most precious manuscripts, and banished the plays to a place outside the city walls. In both countries, however, the audiences were made up of all classes of people who freely expressed their liking or disapproval. In each country the period of dramatic activity followed close upon the heels of great military and naval victories; and the plays of both countries reflect the civil and national pride.

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TRENDS IN SHAKESPEARE STUDIES BRITAIN In the 18th century, Shakespeare dominated the London stage, while Shakespeare productions turned increasingly into the creation of star turns for star actors. After the Licensing Act of 1737, a quarter of plays performed were by Shakespeare,[citation needed] and on at least two occasions rival London playhouses staged the very same Shakespeare play at the same time (Romeo and Juliet in 1755 and King Lear the next year) and still commanded audiences. This occasion was a striking example of the growing prominence of Shakespeare stars in the theatrical culture, the big attraction being the competition and rivalry between the male leads at Covent Garden and Drury Lane, Spranger Barry and David Garrick. There appears to have been no issues with Barry and Garrick, in their late thirties, playing adolescent Romeo one season and geriatric King Lear the next. In September 1769 Garrick staged a major Shakespeare Jubilee in Stratford-upon-Avon which was a major influence on the rise of bardolatry. David Garrick as Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing, 1770. As performance playscripts diverged increasingly from their originals, the publication of texts intended for reading developed rapidly in the opposite direction, with the invention of textual criticism and an emphasis on fidelity to Shakespeare's original words. The texts that we read and perform today were largely settled in the 18th century. Nahum Tate and Nathaniel Lee had already prepared editions and performed scene divisions in the late 17th century, and Nicholas Rowe's edition of 1709 is considered the first truly scholarly text for the plays. It was followed by many good 18th-century editions, crowned by Edmund Malone's landmark Variorum Edition, which was published posthumously in 1821 and remains the basis of modern editions. These collected editions were meant for reading, not staging; Rowe's 1709 edition was, compared to the old folios, a light pocketbook. Shakespeare criticism also increasingly spoke to readers, rather than to theatre audiences. The only aspects of Shakespeare's plays that were consistently disliked and singled out for criticism in the 18th century were the puns ("clenches") and the "low" (sexual) allusions. While a few editors, notably Alexander Pope, attempted to gloss over or remove the puns and the double entendres, they were quickly reversed, and by mid-century the puns and sexual humour were (with only a few exceptions, see Thomas Bowdler) back in permanently. Dryden's sentiments about Shakespeare's imagination and capacity for painting "nature" were echoed in the 18th century by, for example, Joseph Addison ("Among the English, Shakespeare has incomparably excelled all others"), Alexander Pope ("every single character in Shakespeare is as much an Individual as those in Life itself"), and Samuel Johnson (who scornfully dismissed Voltaire's and Rhymer's neoclassical Shakespeare criticism as "the petty cavils of petty minds"). The long-lived belief that the Romantics were the first generation to truly appreciate Shakespeare and to prefer him to Ben Jonson is contradicted by praise from writers throughout the 18th century. Ideas about Shakespeare that many people think of as typically post-Romantic were frequently expressed in the 18th and even in the 17th century: he was described as a genius who needed no learning, as deeply original, and as creating uniquely "real" and individual characters (see Timeline of Shakespeare criticism). To compare Shakespeare and his welleducated contemporary Ben Jonson was a popular exercise at this time, a comparison that was invariably complimentary to Shakespeare. It functioned to highlight the special qualities of both writers, and it especially powered the assertion that natural genius trumps rules, that "there is always an appeal open from criticism to nature" (Samuel Johnson). Opinion of Shakespeare was briefly shaped in the 1790s by the "discovery" of the Shakespeare Papers by William Henry Ireland. Ireland claimed to have found in a trunk a goldmine of lost documents of Shakespeare's including two plays, Vortigern and Rowena and Henry II. These documents appeared to demonstrate a number of unknown facts about Shakespeare that shaped opinion of his works, including a Page 10

Profession of Faith demonstrating Shakespeare was a Protestant and that he had an illegitimate child. Although there were many believers in the provenance of the Papers they soon came under fierce attack from scholars who pointed out numerous inaccuracies. Vortigern had only one performance at the Drury Lane Theatre before Ireland admitted he had forged the documents and written the plays himself. IN GERMANY English actors started visiting the Holy Roman Empire in the late 16th century to work as "fiddlers, singers and jugglers", and through them the work of Shakespeare had first become known in the Reich. Some of Shakespeare's work was performed in continental Europe during the 17th century, but it was not until the mid 18th century that it became widely known. In Germany Lessing compared Shakespeare to German folk literature. In France, the Aristotelian rules were rigidly obeyed, and in Germany, a land where French cultural influence was very strong (German elites preferred to speak French rather than German in the 18th century), the Francophile German theatre critics had long denounced Shakespeare's work as a "jumble" that violated all the Aristotelian rules. As a part of an effort to get the German public to take Shakespeare more seriously, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe organised a Shakespeare jubilee in Frankfurt in 1771, stating in a speech on 14 October 1771 that the dramatist had shown that the Aristotelian unities were "as oppressive as a prison" and were "burdensome fetters on our imagination". Goethe praised Shakespeare for liberating his mind from the rigid Aristoltelian rules, saying: "I jumped into the free air, and suddenly felt I had hands and feet...Shakespeare, my friend, if you were with us today, I could only live with you". Herder likewise proclaimed that reading Shakespeare's work opens "leaves from the book of events, of providence, of the world, blowing in the sands of time." This claim that Shakespeare's work breaks through all creative boundaries to reveal a chaotic, teeming, contradictory world became characteristic of Romantic criticism, later being expressed by Victor Hugo in the preface to his play Cromwell, in which he lauded Shakespeare as an artist of the grotesque, a genre in which the tragic, absurd, trivial and serious were inseparably intertwined. In 1995, the American journalist Stephen Kinzer writing in The New York Times observed: "Shakespeare is an all-but-guaranteed success in Germany, where his work has enjoyed immense popularity for more than 200 years. By some estimates, Shakespeare's plays are performed more frequently in Germany than anywhere else in the world, not excluding his native England. The market for his work, both in English and in German translation, seems inexhaustible." The German critic Ernst Osterkamp wrote: "Shakespeare's importance to German literature cannot be compared with that of any other writer of the post-antiquity period. Neither Dante or Cervantes, neither Moliere or Ibsen have even approached his influence here. With the passage of time, Shakespeare has virtually become one of Germany's national authors. 19th CENTURY Shakespeare in performance The Theatre Royal at Drury Lane in 1813. The platform stage is gone, and note the orchestra cutting off the actors from the audience. Theatres and theatrical scenery became ever more elaborate in the 19th century, and the acting editions used were progressively cut and restructured to emphasise more and more the soliloquies and the stars, at the expense of pace and action. Performances were further slowed by the need for frequent pauses to change the scenery, creating a perceived need for even more cuts to keep performance length within tolerable limits; it became a generally accepted maxim that Shakespeare's plays were too long to be performed without substantial cuts. The platform, or apron, stage, on which actors of the 17th century would come forward for audience contact, was gone, and the actors stayed permanently behind the fourth wall or proscenium arch, further separated from the audience by the orchestra, see image right.

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Through the 19th century, a roll call of legendary actors' names all but drown out the plays in which they appear: Sarah Siddons (1755—1831), John Philip Kemble (1757—1823), Henry Irving (1838—1905), and Ellen Terry (1847—1928). To be a star of the legitimate drama came to mean being first and foremost a "great Shakespeare actor", with a famous interpretation of, for men, Hamlet, and for women, Lady Macbeth, and especially with a striking delivery of the great soliloquies. The acme of spectacle, star, and soliloquy Shakespeare performance came with the reign of actor-manager Henry Irving at the Royal Lyceum Theatre in London from 1878–99. At the same time, a revolutionary return to the roots of Shakespeare's original texts, and to the platform stage, absence of scenery, and fluid scene changes of the Elizabethan theatre, was being effected by William Poel's Elizabethan Stage Society. SHAKESPEARE IN CRITICISM Thomas De Quincey: "O, mighty poet! Thy works are... like the phenomena of nature, like the sun and the sea, the stars and the flowers". The belief in the unappreciated 18th-century Shakespeare was proposed at the beginning of the 19th century by the Romantics, in support of their view of 18th-century literary criticism as mean, formal, and rule-bound, which was contrasted with their own reverence for the poet as prophet and genius. Such ideas were most fully expressed by German critics such as Goethe and the Schlegel brothers. Romantic critics such as Samuel Taylor Coleridge and William Hazlitt raised admiration for Shakespeare to worship or even "bardolatry" (a sarcastic coinage from bard + idolatry by George Bernard Shaw in 1901, meaning excessive or religious worship of Shakespeare). To compare him to other Renaissance playwrights at all, even for the purpose of finding him superior, began to seem irreverent. Shakespeare was rather to be studied without any involvement of the critical faculty, to be addressed or apostrophised—almost prayed to—by his worshippers, as in Thomas De Quincey's classic essay "On the Knocking at the Gate in Macbeth" (1823): "O, mighty poet! Thy works are not as those of other men, simply and merely great works of art; but are also like the phenomena of nature, like the sun and the sea, the stars and the flowers,—like frost and snow, rain and dew, hail-storm and thunder, which are to be studied with entire submission of our own faculties...". As the concept of literary originality grew in importance, critics were horrified at the idea of adapting Shakespeare's tragedies for the stage by putting happy endings on them, or editing out the puns in Romeo and Juliet. In another way, what happened on the stage was seen as unimportant, as the Romantics, themselves writers of closet drama, considered Shakespeare altogether more suitable for reading than staging. Charles Lamb saw any form of stage representation as distracting from the true qualities of the text. This view, argued as a timeless truth, was also a natural consequence of the dominance of melodrama and spectacle on the early 19th-century stage. Shakespeare became an important emblem of national pride in the 19th century, which was the heyday of the British Empire and the acme of British power in the world. To Thomas Carlyle in On Heroes, Hero-Worship, and the Heroic in History (1841), Shakespeare was one of the great poet-heroes of history, in the sense of being a "rallying-sign" for British cultural patriotism all over the world, including even the lost American colonies: "From Parramatta, from New York, whosesoever... English men and women are, they will say to one another, 'Yes, this Shakespeare is ours; we produced him, we speak and think by him; we are of one blood and kind with him'" ("The Poet as Hero"). As the foremost of the great canonical writers, the jewel of English culture, and as Carlyle puts it, "merely as a real, marketable, tangibly useful possession", Shakespeare became in the 19th century a means of creating a common heritage for the motherland and all her colonies. Post-colonial literary critics have had much to say of this use of Shakespeare's plays in what they regard as a move to subordinate and deracinate the cultures of the colonies themselves. Across the North Sea, Shakespeare remained influential in Germany. In 1807, August Wilhelm Schlegel translated all of Shakespeare's plays into German, and such was the popularity of Schlegel's translation (which is generally regarded as one of the best translations of Shakespeare into any language) that German nationalists Page 12

were soon starting to claim that Shakespeare was actually a German playwright who just written his plays in English. By the middle of the 19th century, Shakespeare had been incorporated into the pantheon of German literature. In 1904, a statue of Shakespeare was erected in Weimar showing the Bard of Avon staring into the distance, becoming the first statue built to honor Shakespeare on the mainland of Europe. 20th CENTURY Shakespeare continued to be considered the greatest English writer of all time throughout the 20th century. Most Western educational systems required the textual study of two or more of Shakespeare's plays, and both amateur and professional stagings of Shakespeare were commonplace. It was the proliferation of high-quality, well-annotated texts and the unrivalled reputation of Shakespeare that allowed for stagings of Shakespeare's plays to remain textually faithful, but with an extraordinary variety in setting, stage direction, and costuming. Institutions such as the Folger Shakespeare Library in the United States worked to ensure constant, serious study of Shakespearean texts and the Royal Shakespeare Company in the United Kingdom worked to maintain a yearly staging of at least two plays. Shakespeare performances reflected the tensions of the times, and early in the century, Barry Jackson of the Birmingham Repertory Theatre began the staging of modern-dress productions, thus starting a new trend in Shakesperian production. Performances of the plays could be highly interpretive. Thus, play directors would emphasise Marxist, feminist, or, perhaps most popularly, Freudian psychoanalytical interpretations of the plays, even as they retained letter-perfect scripts. The number of analytical approaches became more diverse by the latter part of the century, as critics applied theories such as structuralism, New Historicism, Cultural materialism, African American studies, queer studies, and literary semiotics to Shakespeare's works. IN THE THIRD REICH In 1934 the French government banned, in permanence, performances of Coriolanus because of its perceived unpatriotic qualities.[citation needed] In the international protests that followed came one from Germany, from none other than Joseph Goebbels. Although productions of Shakespeare's plays in Germany itself were subject to 'streamlining', he continued to be favoured as a great classical dramatist, especially so as almost every new German play since the late 1890s onwards was portrayed by German government propaganda as the work of left-wingers, of Jews or of "degenerates" of one kind or another. Politically acceptable writers had simply been unable to fill the gap, or had only been able to do so with the worst kinds of agitprop. In 1935 Goebbels was to say "We can build autobahns, revive the economy, create a new army, but we... cannot manufacture new dramatists." With Schiller suspect for his radicalism, Lessing for his humanism and even the great Goethe for his lack of patriotism, the legacy of the "Aryan" Shakespeare was reinterpreted for new purposes. Rodney Symington, Professor of Germanic and Russian Studies at the University of Victoria, Canada, deals with this question in The Nazi Appropriation of Shakespeare: Cultural Politics in the Third Reich (Edwin Mellen Press, 2005). The scholar reports that Hamlet, for instance, was reconceived as a protoGerman warrior rather than a man with a conscience. Of this play one critic wrote: "If the courtier Laertes is drawn to Paris and the humanist Horatio seems more Roman than Danish, it is surely no accident that Hamlet's alma mater should be Wittenberg." A leading magazine declared that the crime which deprived Hamlet of his inheritance was a foreshadow of the Treaty of Versailles, and that the conduct of Gertrude was reminiscent of the spineless Weimar politicians. Weeks after Hitler took power in 1933 an official party publication appeared entitled Shakespeare – a Germanic Writer, a counter to those who wanted to ban all foreign influences. At the Propaganda Ministry, Rainer Schlosser, given charge of German theatre by Goebbels, mused that Shakespeare was more German than English. After the outbreak of the war the performance of Shakespeare was banned, though it was quickly lifted by Hitler in person, a favour extended to no other. Not only did the regime appropriate the Page 13

Bard but it also appropriated Elizabethan England itself. To the Nazi leaders, it was a young, vigorous nation, much like the Third Reich itself, quite unlike the decadent British Empire of the present day. Clearly there were some exceptions to the official approval of Shakespeare, and the great patriotic plays, most notably Henry V were shelved. But interestingly the reception of The Merchant of Venice was at best lukewarm (Marlowe's The Jew of Malta was suggested as a possible alternative) because it was too ambiguous and not nearly anti-semitic enough for Nazi taste. So Hamlet was by far the most popular play, along with Macbeth and Richard III. IN CHINA In the years of tentative political and economic liberalization after the death of Mao in 1976, Shakespeare became popular in China. The very act of putting on a play by Shakespeare, formerly condemned as a "bourgeois Western imperialist author" whom no Chinese could respect, was in and of itself an act of quiet dissent. Of all Shakespeare's plays, the most popular in China in the late 1970s and 1980s was Macbeth, as Chinese audiences saw in a play first performed in England in 1606 and set in 11th century Scotland a parallel with the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution of the late 1960s. The violence and bloody chaos of Macbeth reminded Chinese audiences of the violence and bloody chaos of the Cultural Revolution, and furthermore, the story of a national hero becoming a tyrant complete with a power-hungry wife was seen as a parallel with Mao Zedong and his wife, Jiang Qing. Reviewing a production of Macbeth in Beijing in 1980, one Chinese critic, Xu Xiaozhong praised Macbeth as the story of "how the greed for power finally ruined a great man". Another critic, Zhao Xun wrote "Macbeth is the fifth Shakespearean play produced on the Chinese stage after the smashing of the Gang of Four. This play of conspiracy has always been performed at critical moments in the history of our nation". Likewise, a 1982 production of King Lear was hailed by the critics as the story of "moral decline", of a story "when human beings' souls were so polluted that they even mistreated their aged parents", an allusion to the days of the Cultural Revolution when the young people serving in the Red Guard had berated, denounced, attacked and sometimes even killed their parents for failing to live up to "Mao Zedong thought". The play's director, the Shakespearean scholar Fang Ping who had suffered during the Cultural Revolution for studying this "bourgeois Western imperialist", stated in an interview at the time that King Lear was relevant in China because King Lear, the "highest ruler of a monarchy" created a world full of cruelty and chaos where those who loved him were punished and those who did not were rewarded, a barely veiled reference to the often capricious behavior of Mao, who punished his loyal followers for no apparent reason. Cordeilia's devotion and love for her father-despite his madness, cruelty and rejection of her-is seen in China as affirming traditional Confucian values where love of the family counts above all, and for this reason, King Lear is seen in China as being a very "Chinese" play that affirms the traditional values of filial piety. A 1981 production of The Merchant of Venice was a hit with Chinese audiences as the play was seen promoting the theme of justice and fairness in life, with the character of Portia being especially popular as she seen as standing for as one critic wrote for "the humanist spirit of the Renaissance" with its striving for "individuality, human rights and freedom".The theme of a religious conflict between a Jewish merchant vs. a Christian merchant in The Merchant of Venice is generally ignored in Chinese productions of The Merchant of Venice as most Chinese find do not find the theme of Jewish-Christian conflict relevant., Unlike in Western productions, the character of Shylock is very much an unnuanced villain in Chinese productions of The Merchant of Venice, being presented as a man capable only of envy, spite, greed and cruelty, a man whose actions are only motivated by his spiritual impoverishment.By contrast, in the West, Shylock is usually presented as a nuanced villain, of a man who has never held power over a Christian before, and lets that power go to his head. Another popular play, especially with dissidents under the Communist government, is Hamlet.Hamlet, with its theme of a man trapped under a tyrannical regime is very popular with Chinese dissidents with one dissident Wu Ningkun

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writing about his time in internal exile between 1958-61 at a collective farm in a remote part of northern Manchuria that he understood all too well the line from the play "Denmark is a prison!"

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM CHARACTER LIST Theseus Duke of Athens, who is marrying Hippolyta as the play begins. He decrees that Hermia must marry Demetrius or be sentenced either to death or to life in a convent. At the end of the play, he insists that all of the lovers marry along with him and Hipployta and provides a humorous commentary to accompany the performance of "Pyramus and Thisbe." Hippolyta Queen of the Amazons, she is betrothed to Theseus. These two were once enemies, and Theseus won her in battle. In this play, she seems to have lost much of her fighting spirit, though she does not hesitate to voice her opinion, for example, following Theseus' choice of the play "Pyramus and Thisbe." Lysander Hermia's beloved. Egeus does not approve of Lysander, though we don't know why. Lysander claims to be Demetrius' equal, and the play supports this claim — the differences between the two lovers are negligible, if not nonexistent — yet Egeus insists Hermia marry Demetrius. Rather than lose his lover in this random way, Lysander plans to escape with her to his widowed aunt's home. During a night in the forest, Lysander is mistakenly doused by Puck with Oberon's love juice, causing him to fall briefly in love with Helena. Realizing the mistake, Oberon makes Puck reverse the spell, so by the end of the play, Lysander and Hermia are once again in love and marry. Demetrius He is in love with Hermia, and her father's choice of a husband for her. Similar to Lysander in most ways, Demetrius' only distinguishing characteristic is his fickleness in love. He once loved Helena but has cruelly abandoned her before the play begins. Not only does he reject Helena's deep love for him, but he vows to hurt, even rape, her if she doesn't leave him alone. With the help of Oberon's love juice, he relinquishes Hermia and marries Helena at the end of the play. Demetrius is the only character who is permanently affected by Oberon's love juice. Hermia Although she loves Lysander, her father insists she marry Demetrius or be put to death for disobedience of his wishes. Theseus softens this death sentence, declaring that Hermia choose Demetrius, death, or life in a convent. Rather than accept this dire fate, Hermia agrees to run away with Lysander. During the chaotic night in the woods, Hermia is shocked to see her beloved abandon her and declare his love for Helena. She is unaware of the mischief Oberon's love juice is playing with Lysander's vision. By the play's end, Puck has reversed the spell, and Lysander's true love for Hermia has been restored. Despite her father's continued opposition to their union, the two marry with Theseus' blessing. Helena She is the cruelly abused lover of Demetrius. Before the play begins, he has abandoned her in favor of Hermia. Helena doesn't understand the reason for his switch in affection, because she is as beautiful as Hermia. Desperate to win him back, Helena tries anything, even betraying Hermia, her best childhood friend, by revealing to the jealous Demetrius Lysander and Hermia's plan to escape Athens. With the help of Oberon's love juice, Demetrius finally falls back in love with Helena, and the two are married at the end of the play. Oberon The King of the Fairies, Oberon is fighting with Titania when the play begins because he wants custody of an Indian boy she is raising. He hatches a plan to win the boy away from her by placing love juice in her eyes. This juice causes her to fall rashly in love with Bottom. During her magic-induced love Page 15

affair, Oberon convinces her to relinquish the boy, who Oberon will use as a page. Once he has the boy, Oberon releases Titania from her spell, and the two lovers are reunited. Oberon also sympathizes with Helena and has Puck place love juice in Demetrius' eyes so he falls in love with her. After Puck mistakenly anoints Lysander, Oberon insists Puck fix his mistake so that the true lovers are together by the end of the play. In the final scene, he and Titania bless all of the newlyweds. Titania Oberon's wife, she is Queen of the Fairies. Because of Titania's argument with Oberon, the entire human and natural world is in chaos. Oberon wants the Indian boy she is protecting, but Titania refuses to give him up because when his mother died in childbirth, she agreed to raise the boy. Following Oberon's application of the love juice to her eyes, Titania falls in love with Bottom, and Oberon takes the Indian boy from her. Once he has the boy, Oberon releases the spell, and he and Titania are reunited. Puck, or Robin Goodfellow Oberon's jester, Puck is responsible for mistakenly anointing Lysander with the love juice intended for Demetrius. Puck enjoys the comedy that ensues when Lysander and Demetrius are both in love with Helena but follows Oberon's orders to reunite the correct lovers. Puck has the final words of the play, emphasizing that the entire play was just a dream. Nick Bottom A weaver, Bottom plays Pyramus. He is the most outgoing of the group of actors, wishing to play all of the characters in "Pyramus and Thisbe." Puck transforms him into an ass, and Titania falls in love with him. When Puck returns Bottom to his normal self, Bottom can't speak about what happened to him but vows to have Peter Quince write about it in a ballad to be called "Bottom's Dream." Egeus Hermia's tyrannical father. He capriciously declares that she must marry Demetrius or be put to death for disobedience; according to the law of Athens, daughters must obey their fathers or forfeit their lives. At the end of the play, he is shocked to learn that Lysander and Hermia tried to flee Athens and insists they should be punished. Theseus overrules him, making the lovers marry instead. Philostrate Theseus' Master of Revels, he arranges the selection of performances for Theseus' wedding. He tries to dissuade the wedding party from choosing "Pyramus and Thisbe" but is overruled by Theseus. Peter Quince A carpenter and the director of the group of actors who perform "Pyramus and Thisbe," which he has written for the celebration following Theseus and Hippolyta's wedding. Francis Flute A bellows-mender, Flute plays the role of Thisbe. He is displeased to be given a woman's role because he wants to let his beard grow, but Quince assures him that he can play the part in a mask. Tom Snout Snout is a tinker and plays the role of Wall in "Pyramus and Thisbe." Snug A joiner, he plays the lion in "Pyramus and Thisbe." Robin Starveling A tailor, he represents Moonshine in "Pyramus and Thisbe." Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, Mustardseed Titania's fairies.

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CHARACTERS MAP

PLAY SUMMARY A Midsummer Night's Dream opens with Theseus and Hippolyta planning their wedding, which takes place in four days. Theseus is upset because time is moving so slowly, but Hippolyta assures him the four days will quickly pass. Their relationship has not always been so loving. Theseus won Hippolyta during a battle. While they discuss their relationship, Egeus enters with his daughter, Hermia, and her two suitors, Lysander and Demetrius. Hermia is in love with Lysander, but her father wants her to marry Demetrius. Lysander argues that he is as good of a match as Demetrius, but Egeus won't listen. Instead, he declares that if Hermia won't marry Demetrius, she will die: This is the law of Athens and his right as her father. Theseus agrees that Hermia should obey her father but offers her a third option: spending her life in a nunnery. Hermia has until the day of Theseus and Hippolyta's wedding to decide upon her fate. Upset by Theseus' decree, Lysander comes up with a plan. He and Hermia can escape from Athens and its unjust laws by running away to his widowed aunt's house. Here he and Hermia can marry and live in peace. As they discuss their plans, Helena enters. She is in love with Demetrius and wonders how Hermia managed to capture his heart. Hermia insists she hates Demetrius. She and Lysander then tell Helena about their plan to leave Athens. In a last effort to gain Demetrius' love, Helena decides to tell him of this plot, but she doesn't receive even a "thank you" from her cold-hearted lover. From the Duke's palace, the scene switches to the cottage of Peter Quince, a carpenter who directs a group of amateur actors in his free time. He has chosen the play "Pyramus and Thisbe" to perform for Theseus' wedding and is in the process of casting roles. Nick Bottom, the weaver, is given the leading role of Pyramus, while Francis Flute, the bellows-mender, wins the female lead, Thisbe. The remainder of the roles are assigned, and the group plans to meet the following night at the Duke's oak for a rehearsal — the same woods where Hermia and Lysander plan to meet on their flight from Athens. Page 17

The action of the play now shifts to this fairy-enchanted woods, where Puck, Oberon's joker, speaks with one of Titania's fairies. The fairy recognizes Puck as the troublemaker, Robin Goodfellow. They also discuss the argument between Titania and Oberon; Oberon is angry with Titania because she refuses to give him the Indian boy she is raising. While Puck and the fairy talk, Titania and Oberon enter from opposite ends of the stage. After criticizing each other's infidelities — Titania was supposedly in love with Theseus and Oberon with Hippolyta, among others — Titania reminds Oberon that their argument has led to chaos in the natural world. Oberon says this disaster will end if she relinquishes the Indian boy, but Titania refuses. Oberon hatches a sneaky plan to get the boy back. He sends Puck out to find a plant called love-inidleness, the juice of which makes any person dote on the next creature he or she sees. While Puck is out looking for this magical flower, Demetrius and Helena wander past Oberon. As usual, Demetrius insists Helena stop following him; he even vows to harm her if she doesn't leave him alone. Taking pity on Helena, Oberon instructs Puck to put some love juice in Demetrius' eyes at a moment when Helena will be the first person he sees upon waking. Titania and her fairies are the next to enter the stage, with Oberon secretly following. When Titania falls asleep, Oberon squeezes the love juice in her eyes, hoping a wild beast will be the first creature she sees upon waking. In the meantime, Hermia and Lysander wander near Titania's bower. Lost in the woods, they decide to stop and rest until morning. Puck sees Lysander asleep and assumes he is the nasty Athenian Oberon told him about. He puts the love juice in Lysander's eyes. Still in pursuit of Demetrius, Helena wanders past and notices the sleeping Lysander. She awakens him, and he immediately falls in love with her. Cautious and heartbroken, Helena assumes Lysander is teasing her, so she runs away. Lysander follows. Hermia awakens, calling out for Lysander's help, because she has just had a nightmare in which a snake ate her heart. She dashes into the woods in search of Lysander. Quince, Bottom, and the other actors are the next characters to meander near Titania's bower. As they rehearse "Pyramus and Thisbe," Puck secretly listens, appalled by their awful acting. Deciding Bottom is the worst in the bunch, Puck gives him an ass-head. When Bottom saunters out of the woods to deliver his lines, the other actors fly from him in fear. Bottom is unaware of the transformation and walks unworriedly through the woods. Singing as he passes her bower, Bottom awakens Titania who immediately falls in love with him. Puck explains all of these events to Oberon, who is pleased with the way his plan has turned out. Indeed, everything seems perfect, until Demetrius and Hermia walk past, Hermia believing Demetrius has harmed Lysander, who has mysteriously disappeared. Oberon realizes that Puck has anointed the wrong Athenian with the love juice. Angry with this mistake, Oberon sends Puck in search of Helena, vowing to charm Demetrius' eyes when she appears. Now both Lysander and Demetrius are in love with Helena, adding much to Puck's amusement at the foolishness of mortals. Helena still believes they are teasing her. When Hermia honestly, and confusedly, says she knows nothing about the sudden switch in Lysander's feelings, Helena believes she is simply playing dumb: In her opinion, her three friends are laughing at her. Before a serious fight breaks out between Demetrius and Lysander, Oberon has Puck create a fog that will keep the lovers from finding one another. While they're sleeping, Puck reverses the spell on Lysander. He also casts a spell so none of the lovers will remember what has happened in the woods. In the meantime, Oberon returns to Titania's bower in search of the Indian boy. Titania willingly releases him because she only has eyes for Bottom. Oberon's plan is now complete, and he is disgusted to see his queen in love with an ass, so he releases her from the spell. Titania awakens and tells Oberon about her strange dream of being in love with an ass. Oberon has Puck remove the ass-head from Bottom. Now that Oberon has won the Indian boy from Titania, he is willing to forget their argument, and the two, reunited, dance off together so they can bless Theseus' marriage. Page 18

Morning has arrived and Theseus, Hippolyta, and Egeus are walking through the woods. Theseus suddenly spies the sleeping lovers and imagines they woke early to observe the rite of May. When the lovers are awakened, Demetrius confesses that he now loves Helena. Theseus decides the other lovers should be married along with him and Hippolyta. As they return to the palace, the scene shifts to Bottom. Just awakening from his dream, Bottom declares he'll have Quince write a ballad about it, called "Bottom's Dream," because it has no bottom. Quince and the other actors haven't forgotten their missing friend, Bottom. They worry "Pyramus and Thisbe" won't be able to go on without him, which saddens them because Theseus is known for his generosity, and they might have been rewarded with a lifelong pension for their performance. As they lament this lost opportunity, Bottom suddenly returns. His friends want to hear his story, but Bottom tells them there isn't time for that: They must prepare for the play. In the final scene, the play has come full circle, and all of the cast returns to the palace where Theseus and Hippolyta discuss the strange tale the lovers have told them about the events of the previous evening. The joyous lovers enter, and Theseus decides it is time to plan the festivities for the evening. Of all the possible performances, the play "Pyramus and Thisbe" turns out to be the most promising. Theseus is intrigued by the paradoxical summary of the play, which suggests it is both merry and tragical, tedious and brief. The players finally present their play. Hippolyta is disgusted by their pathetic acting, but Theseus argues that even the best actors create only a brief illusion; the worst must be assisted by an imaginative audience. The play ends with Puck's final speech, in which he apologizes for the weakness of the performance and promises that the next production will be better. SUMMARY This scene opens in Theseus' palace in Athens. It is four days before his wedding to Hippolyta, the former queen of the Amazons, and Theseus is impatient with how slowly time is moving. Hippolyta assures him that the wedding day will soon arrive. As Theseus and Hippolyta plan their wedding festivities, Egeus and his daughter, Hermia, arrive on the scene with Lysander and Demetrius. Egeus is angry because his daughter refuses to marry Demetrius, the man of his choice, but is instead in love with Lysander. Egeus accuses Lysander of bewitching his daughter and stealing her love by underhanded means. Agreeing with Egeus, Theseus declares that it is a daughter's duty to obey her father. Hermia demands to know the worst punishment she will receive for disobedience. Death or spending her life in a nunnery comprise Hermia's choices. Lysander joins the argument, arguing that he is Demetrius' equal in everything and is, indeed, more constant in his affection than Demetrius, who was recently in love with Helena. These proceedings upset Hippolyta, because the prospect of Hermia's death upsets her plans for a happy, festive wedding day. Finally, everyone except Lysander and Hermia leave the stage. Lysander reminds Hermia that the course of true love has never run smoothly, so they must view their difficulties as typical for lovers. He has a plan for eluding Athenian law: The two lovers will run away from Athens and live with his childless widow aunt to whom he has always been a surrogate son. Living with her, they will be outside of Athenian jurisdiction so that Hermia can avoid Theseus' death sentence and can marry. Having few other options, Hermia is enthusiastic about Lysander's idea and declares her undying love for him. Just as the lovers have completed their plan for escape, Helena enters the scene. What charms does Hermia possess, Helena wonders, that have so completely captivated Demetrius? Hermia swears that she has no interest in Demetrius, that he actually seems to thrive on her hatred of him. Hermia and Lysander confess their intention of fleeing Athens, and Helena decides to tell Demetrius about it in a final attempt to win his love. The action shifts to the cottage of Peter Quince, the director of a band of amateur actors who are planning a play to perform for Theseus and Hippolyta's wedding. The play enacts the tragic story of Page 19

Pyramus and Thisbe, two young lovers who die during a clandestine meeting. Quince is in the process of assigning roles to the various players but meets with many objections to his casting efforts. Nick Bottom, the weaver who is an entertaining but foolish man, usurps Quince's authority as director and claims he would like to play all of the roles in the drama. He is cast as lover Pyramus. Flute, the bellows mender, is assigned the role of the heroine, Thisbe. Not happy to play a female role because he wants to let his beard grow, Flute is pleased to learn that he can wear a mask for the performance so he won't need to shave. Snug, the joiner, is cast in the role of the lion. Bottom wants to appropriate this role (as he wanted to appropriate the others), claiming his roar could make the ladies shriek. His statement makes the players nervous. They worry that if the lion is too authentic, the women in the audience will be frightened, literally, to death: They fear that Theseus might have them hanged for scaring the ladies. Bottom agrees to temper his roar, making it gentle as a "sucking dove," but Quince flatters him by insisting that Snug must keep the part of the lion because only Bottom can play the leading role of Pyramus. When the casting is finally finished, Quince sends the players off to learn their lines and tells them to meet for a rehearsal the following evening at the Duke's oak. This scene transports its viewers from Athens into the woods outside of the city, the dwelling place of Oberon, Titania, and their band of fairies. The scene begins with a conversation between Oberon's mischievous elf Robin Goodfellow, also known as Puck, and one of Titania's attendants. Puck warns her to keep Titania away from this part of the woods because Oberon will be reveling here, and if the two meet there will certainly be a serious quarrel. Oberon is angry with Titania because she refuses to give him a sweet Indian boy upon whom she dotes. Titania's attendant suddenly recognizes Puck, accusing him of being the hobgoblin who is blamed for roguish acts in the village, such as frightening young women or misleading night travelers. Puck admits that he is this "merry wanderer of the night." Suddenly Oberon and Titania enter the scene from opposite directions. Their bickering begins. Each accuses the other of having had affairs, and Titania says Oberon's persecution of her has caused the current chaos in the world: The rivers are flooding, the corn is rotting, and people are plagued by "rheumatic" diseases. Oberon blames Titania; if she would simply relinquish the Indian boy, peace would be restored. Titania refuses to let the boy go because his mother was a close friend of hers, and when she died in childbirth, Titania agreed to raise her son. Hatching a plan to win the Indian boy, Oberon sends Puck in search of a flower called love-inidleness. When the juice of this magical flower is poured on sleepers' eyelids, it makes them dote crazily on the first live creature they see upon awakening. In this way, Oberon plans to make Titania fall in love with some wild beast; he won't release her from this unpleasant spell until she gives him the Indian boy. After Puck has left in search of the powerful flower, Oberon sits scheming. Demetrius and Helena unknowingly stumble into his bower, but he is invisible to them. Helena actively pursues her beloved, but Demetrius vows to hurt her if she doesn't leave him alone. After they have left, Puck returns. Taking pity on Helena, Oberon tells Puck to anoint the eyes of the Athenian man (Demetrius) so that he will fall in love with this jilted woman. Puck promises to fulfill Oberon's order, though Puck hasn't seen Demetrius, so he doesn't know which Athenian Oberon is talking about. Titania's fairies sing her a soothing lullaby as she prepares for sleep. While she rests, Oberon creeps up, squeezes the potion onto her eyelids and utters a spell to make her awaken when something vile is near. When Oberon leaves, Lysander and Hermia wander into Titania's bower, but she is invisible to them. The lovers are lost, and Lysander suggests they stop to sleep for the night. Hermia agrees but won't let him sleep too close to her, even though Lysander claims that, because they are engaged, they can sleep innocently side by side. But Hermia insists on separation, so they sleep a short distance apart. After they have fallen asleep, Puck enters, searching for the Athenian whose eyes Oberon wanted him to anoint with

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the love juice. Seeing Lysander and Hermia lying apart from each other, he mistakes them for Demetrius and Helena and erroneously applies the magical juice to Lysander. After Puck exits, Demetrius and Helena run into the bower. Helena is in frantic pursuit of her beloved, but he manages to flee his pursuer and sprints into the woods. Depressed and exhausted, Helena stops to rest and notices Lysander asleep on the ground. She wakes him and, thanks to Puck's potion, he immediately falls in love with her. When he claims to have abandoned Hermia, who he now describes as dull and unattractive, Helena assumes he is teasing her so she runs away. Lysander chases after her, and Hermia awakens. She has been dreaming about a fearful snake that ate her heart awake. Frightened that Lysander has disappeared, she, too, rushes into the woods. Comedy returns to the play in the opening of this scene. Peter Quince and his company are rehearsing their rendition of Pyramus and Thisbe. Bottom has serious reservations about the play: Pyramus kills himself with a sword, and the lion is frightening, both factors that are sure to terrify the women in the audience. The other players agree, wondering if the play should be abandoned, but Bottom has a solution. A prologue needs to be written to explain that Pyramus is only an actor, and the actor playing the lion must show half of his face during his performance and tell the audience his true identity. With these problems successfully solved, Quince mentions two other difficulties with the upcoming performance: It requires moonshine and a wall. After consulting a calendar, they discover that the moon will be shining on the night of the performance, so they can simply leave a window open. The wall is a greater dilemma for these silly men. Finally, Bottom discovers a solution: An actor covered in plaster will play the role of the wall. Everyone agrees, and the rehearsal begins. Puck eavesdrops on the performance, amused by the way these actors butcher their lines. The egotistical Bottom sits in the bushes, waiting his cue, and Puck can't resist playing a joke on him: He gives Bottom an ass' head. When Bottom enters, declaring his love for Thisbe, the other terrified actors dash into the woods. Unaware of his transformation, Bottom has no idea what has frightened them. As he walks singing through the woods, Titania, with the love juice on her eyes, awakens and falls immediately in love with the beastly Bottom. She appoints four fairies — Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Mote, and Mustardseed — to serve the needs of her new lover. Encountering Oberon in another part of the forest, Puck explains the outcome of his experiments with the love potion. Oberon is pleased to learn that Titania has fallen in love with the monstrous Bottom and that Puck has also fixed the disdainful Athenian. Just after Puck assures him that Demetrius must now love Helena, Demetrius and Hermia enter the scene. Oberon recognizes Demetrius, but Puck realizes this is not the same Athenian he bewitched with the potion. Because her darling Lysander has mysteriously disappeared, Hermia accuses Demetrius of murdering him and hiding the body. Demetrius insists that he didn't kill his enemy, but Hermia refuses to believe him. Giving up the argument in despair, Demetrius sinks to the ground and falls asleep, while Hermia continues her search for the missing Lysander. Oberon reprimands Puck for anointing the wrong Athenian with the love juice. To correct the situation, Oberon sends Puck in search of Helena and then squeezes the magic potion into the cold-hearted Demetrius' eyes. Lysander and Helena enter the scene, still bickering because Helena thinks he is mocking her. Their voices wake Demetrius, who falls in love with Helena at first sight, compliments of Oberon's potion. Hearing what she believes are Demetrius' phony declarations of love, Helena is furious: Both Lysander and Demetrius are now making fun of her. When Hermia enters, the situation gets even worse. Not knowing about the potion-induced change in Lysander's feelings for her, Hermia is shocked when he declares he no longer loves her. Of course, Helena thinks that Hermia is also in on the farce and can't believe her closest childhood friend could be so nasty. After the lovers have all fought and fled the scene, Oberon forces Puck to fix the problem before the men kill each other. He advises Puck to create a deep fog in which the lovers will get lost and, finally, fall asleep in exhaustion. When they awake in the Page 21

morning, the night's crazy events will seem like a dream except that Demetrius will be in love with Helena. Oberon then rushes to Titania's bower to beg for the Indian boy. Bottom is enjoying his sojourn in Titania's bower: Peaseblossom amiably scratches his head, while Cobweb goes off in search of honey for him. As Bottom sleeps in Titania's arms, Oberon walks in. Feeling pity for Titania's pitiful love for this ass, Oberon squeezes an herb on her eyes to release her from the spell. Titania awakens, telling Oberon about her strange dream of being in love with an ass. Oberon has Puck remove the ass' head from Bottom. Now that Oberon has won the Indian boy from Titania, he is willing to forget their argument, and the two, reunited, dance off together so they can bless Theseus' marriage. Theseus, Hippolyta, and Egeus are walking through the woods when Theseus suddenly spies the sleeping lovers. Egeus recognizes them but wonders how they ended up together because Demetrius and Lysander are enemies. Theseus imagines they woke early to observe the rite of May and remembers this is the day Hermia needs to make a choice about her future. When the lovers are awakened, Demetrius confesses that he now loves Helena. No one really understands what has happened. Theseus decides the lovers should be married along with him and Hippolyta. As the lovers return to the palace, the scene shifts to Bottom. Just awakening from his dream, Bottom declares he'll have Quince write a ballad about it, called "Bottom's Dream," because it has no bottom. Quince and Flute are searching for their missing friend, Bottom. They worry that "Pyramus and Thisbe" won't be performed without him. Theseus is known for his generosity, and the actors believe they will potentially be rewarded with a lifelong pension for their stellar performance of this play. As they lament this lost opportunity, Bottom suddenly returns. His friends want to hear his story, but Bottom tells them there isn't time for that now: They must prepare for the play. He warns them to avoid onions and garlic so their breath will be sweet for the "sweet comedy" they will perform. The play has come full circle, and the cast has now returned to the palace where Theseus and Hippolyta discuss the strange tale the lovers have told them about the events of the previous evening. The joyous lovers enter, and Theseus decides it is time to plan the festivities for the evening. Of all the possible performances, the play "Pyramus and Thisbe" turns out to be the most promising. Theseus is intrigued by the paradoxical summary of the play, which suggests it is both merry and tragical, tedious and brief. Philostrate tries to dissuade Theseus from choosing this play, but Theseus thinks its simplicity will be refreshing. In the remainder of the scene, the players present "Pyramus and Thisbe," accompanied by the lovers' critical commentary. Hippolyta is disgusted by this pathetic acting, but Theseus argues that even the best actors create only a brief illusion; the worst must be assisted by an imaginative audience. Following the performance, Bottom arises from the dead, asking Theseus if he'd like to hear an epilogue or watch a rustic dance. Theseus opts for the dance, having lost patience with the players' acting. The play concludes with three epilogues. The first is Puck's poetic monologue, delivered while he sweeps up the stage. Oberon and Titania offer their blessing on the house and on the lovers' future children. The play ends with Puck's final speech, in which he apologizes for the weakness of the performance and promises that the next production will be better.

KING LEAR CHARACTER LIST King Lear King of Britain. Lear is the protagonist whose willingness to believe empty flattery leads to the deaths of many people. Goneril Lear's eldest daughter who, after professing her deep love for her father, betrays him and plots his murder. Page 22

Regan Lear's second daughter. Regan joins forces with Goneril to destroy their father. Regan initially appears less harsh than her elder sister, but in the end, she proves to be as blood-thirsty as Goneril. Cordelia Lear's youngest daughter. Cordelia genuinely loves her father, but her refusal to flatter him leads to her tragic death. Fool Loyal member of the king's court. The Fool assumes the role of protector to Lear when Cordelia is banished. Earl of Gloucester Lear's cohort and loyal friend. Gloucester is a foolish old man whose inability to see the truth in his youngest son's words parallels Lear's own difficulties with Goneril and Regan. Earl of Kent / Caius Lear's loyal friend and supporter. Although banished, Kent disguises himself as Caius in an effort to stay close to his king. Edgar / Poor Tom Gloucester's older son. Edgar is Gloucester's only legitimate heir, but he must flee and hide from his father, disguised as Poor Tom, when he comes under suspicion. Edmund Gloucester's younger, illegitimate, son. He is an opportunist whose ambitions lead him to form a union with Goneril and Regan. Duke of Albany Goneril's husband. Albany grows in stature during the play and ultimately finds the strength to resist his wife's efforts to have Lear killed. Duke of Cornwall Regan's brutal husband. Cornwall is vicious and savage as he tries to eliminate Lear and Gloucester. Oswald Goneril's steward. Oswald is a willing accomplice to Goneril's plotting and proves a foil to Kent's devotion to Lear. King of France Marries Cordelia. France is honorable and willing to support Cordelia's efforts to rescue her father. Duke of Burgundy Suitor for Cordelia. Burgundy rejects Cordelia when he discovers that she will bring him no dowry. Curan Gloucester's servant. Old Man Tenant of Gloucester. Servants to Cornwall Cornwall's retainers, who attack him in defense of Gloucester. Doctor Attendant to Cordelia.

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CHARACTERS MAP

PLAY SUMMARY King Lear opens with a conversation between the earls of Kent and Gloucester, in which the audience learns that Gloucester has two sons: Edgar, who is his legitimate heir, and Edmund, his younger illegitimate son. This information will provide the secondary or subplot. Next, King Lear enters to state that he intends to remove himself from life's duties and concerns. Pointing at a map, Lear tells those in attendance that he has divided his kingdom into three shares, to be parceled out to his three daughters, as determined by their protestations of love. The two elder daughters, Goneril and Regan, exaggerate their love by telling their father that their affection for him exceeds all reasonable expectations. The youngest daughter, Cordelia, tells Lear that she loves him, but only as a daughter should love a father. Lear, angry and disappointed at what he deems a lack of devotion on Cordelia's part, divides his kingdom equally between Goneril and Regan, and banishes Cordelia. Later, France agrees to marry the now dowerless and banished Page 24

Cordelia. When Kent attempts to defend Cordelia, Lear banishes him as well. Meanwhile, Goneril and Regan decide that if Lear becomes too much of a nuisance, they will have to decide what disciplinary actions to take. In the developing subplot, Edmund complains of his unhappiness at being an illegitimate — and thus, disinherited — son. As part of his plot to claim what is not his, Edmund gives a false letter to his father, Gloucester, declaring that Edgar is proposing that they kill their father and split the wealth between them. The cunning Edmund easily convinces his father that Edgar cannot be trusted. Within a short time, Lear moves to Goneril's palace. Goneril tells Lear that he needs a smaller troop, more decorous in behavior and better suited to the king's rank and age. The king is very angry and says he will pack up his people and move to Regan's palace. Lear's anger continues to build, and he calls upon nature to curse Goneril's womb. In response, Goneril turns out 50 of Lear's retinue. As the subplot develops, Edmund wounds himself slightly, pretending that Edgar has attacked him. Certain that Edgar will also try to kill him, Gloucester promises to find the means to make Edmund his heir. After his escape into the woods, Edgar decides that he will disguise himself as a Bedlam beggar, who will be known as Poor Tom. Meanwhile, Cornwall orders an impassioned Kent placed in the stocks. Lear arrives and quickly realizes that Regan has joined Goneril in seeking to reduce Lear's authority. Lear reminds his daughters that he gave them all that they now enjoy, but they are unmoved. An angry Lear calls for his horse, and rides into the storm with his Fool for protection. Exposed to the storm, the Fool attempts to reason with his king, but Lear will have no part of submission, especially before his daughters. Soon the king and Fool are joined by Edgar disguised as Poor Tom. Gloucester tells Edmund of the plot to save the king, unaware that he is divulging the plans to a traitor. Edmund immediately resolves to tell Cornwall of the plan. Edmund soon receives his reward: Gloucester's title and lands. The captured Gloucester is tortured by Regan, who fiendishly plucks at his beard, and Cornwall, who gouges out Gloucester's eyes, but not before one of Cornwall's servants draws a sword and stabs Cornwall, who soon dies of his wounds. Later, Edgar is both shocked and dismayed when a blinded Gloucester is led in by one of his tenants. The disguised Edgar agrees to take Gloucester to the cliff he seeks, where he dupes Gloucester into thinking that he is at the edge of a precipice. After Gloucester jumps and loses consciousness, Edgar easily convinces his father that he has somehow survived a fall from the cliffs. Oswald arrives and attempts to kill Gloucester but is, instead, slain by Edgar. As he lays dying, Oswald gives Edgar a letter from Goneril instructing Edmund to murder Albany so that she will be free to wed Edmund. Goneril and Edmund soon learn that Albany is a changed man, one who is pleased to learn of the proposed invasion by France and displeased when he learns that Gloucester has been replaced by his younger son, Edmund. Meanwhile, Cordelia learns of her father's deteriorated mental condition and returns to England with an army to defend her father. Within a short time, Cordelia and her father reunite. In spite of Albany's intent to save Lear and Cordelia's lives, Edmund resolves that they will die. Edmund orders that Lear and Cordelia be imprisoned. Albany, Goneril, and Regan join Edmund, and a confrontation erupts between all four characters. Edmund's treachery is revealed, and he is wounded in a fight with Edgar, whom Edmund does not recognize as his brother. Soon, Regan dies, poisoned by Goneril, who then kills herself. Since he is now dying, Edmund admits that the charges against him are truthful, and he seeks to know the identity of his killer. Edgar confesses his lineage as brother and shares the news that their father, Gloucester, has died. Edmund, who says he wants some good to come from so much death, reveals his and Goneril's plan to have both Lear and Cordelia murdered and to have Cordelia's death appear a suicide. Efforts to rescind these orders are too late, and soon Lear enters with a dead Cordelia in his arms. Unable to accept Cordelia's death, the king also dies, his body covering that of his youngest daughter. Albany informs Kent Page 25

and Edgar that they must now rule the kingdom together, but Kent replies that he will soon leave the world to join his master. Edgar is left to speak of the sad weight of these events, which everyone must now endure. SUMMARY The scene opens in King Lear's palace. A conversation between Kent, Gloucester, and Gloucester's son Edmund introduces the play's primary plot: The king is planning to divide his kingdom among his three daughters. The audience also learns that Gloucester has two sons. The older, Edgar, is his legitimate heir, and the younger, Edmund, is illegitimate; however, Gloucester loves both sons equally. This information provides the subplot. King Lear enters to a fanfare of trumpets, followed by his two sons-in-law — Albany and Cornwall — and his three daughters — Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia. Lear announces that he has divided his kingdom into three shares to be given to his daughters as determined by their declarations of love for him. Goneril, as the eldest, speaks first. She tells her father that her love for him is boundless. Regan, as the middle child, speaks next. Her love, she says, is even greater than Goneril's. Finally, it is Cordelia's turn to express the depth of her love for her royal father. But when queried by Lear, Cordelia replies that she loves him as a daughter should love a father, no more and no less. She reminds her father that she also will owe devotion to a husband when she marries, and therefore cannot honestly tender all her love toward her father. Lear sees Cordelia's reply as rejection; in turn, he disowns Cordelia, saying that she will now be "a stranger to my heart and me" (I.1.114). King Lear then divides his kingdom between Goneril and Regan, giving each an equal share. Kent interferes by asking Lear to reconsider his rash action. Lear is not swayed, and in anger, he banishes Kent for defending Cordelia and for confronting the king. At Kent's departure, the King of France and Duke of Burgundy enter, both of whom are suitors for Cordelia's hand in marriage. They are told that Cordelia will not receive a dowry or inheritance from her father. The Duke withdraws his suit, because a wife without a dowry is of no use to him. In contrast, the King of France claims that Cordelia is a prize, even without her share of Lear's kingdom, and announces his intent to marry Cordelia. Cordelia bids her sisters farewell, and leaves with the King of France. When Goneril and Regan are left alone, the two sisters reveal their plan to discredit the king. Edmund enters the scene — set in the Earl of Gloucester's house — talking out loud to himself. In this soliloquy, Edmund figuratively asks Nature why society sees him as inferior to his brother Edgar simply because he is not his father's legitimate firstborn. Edmund's soliloquy reveals his plan to undermine his brother's position by tricking his father with a forged letter, which he presents to Gloucester in this scene. Edmund also succeeds in convincing Edgar that he's looking out for his brother's safety when he suggests that Edgar carry a weapon as protection from their father's anger — a wrath, Edmund intimates, that's directed toward Edmund. Set in the palace of Goneril and the Duke of Albany, this scene opens with Goneril asking her steward, Oswald, if Lear struck him for making fun of the king's Fool. Oswald confirms the encounter. Goneril, enraged, instructs Oswald to keep Lear waiting when he needs something, and if the king is unhappy with this treatment, he should be told to move to Regan's palace. Goneril then commands her servants to treat the king's company with coldness since the knights' lewd behavior is creating a disturbance in her household. The setting is a hall in Goneril's palace. Kent, earlier banished by Lear, reappears in disguise as Caius. Lear enters and begins asking Kent questions about his identity and his intent. Kent's responses are vague, but he asserts his loyalty and willingness to serve the king. Kent's obvious admiration impresses Lear.

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When the king asks to see Goneril, Oswald leaves without responding to the request. A knight reports that Goneril is unwell and unavailable. The knight also tells Lear that all the members of Goneril's household are treating the king's entourage rudely. Goneril enters, complaining about the king's Fool and his unruly knights. Goneril demands that Lear reduce the number of knights in his service. In anger, the king declares that he will pack up his people and move to Regan's palace, where he is sure to receive a warmer reception. The setting for this brief scene is outside Goneril's palace. Lear instructs Kent to go at once to Regan's palace and deliver a letter. As Kent leaves, the Fool attempts to distract the king with silly remarks, but their content points ironically to Lear's actions. The torment of the king is obvious as he laments his treatmen of Cordelia. Lear expresses his first concerns, a premonition, for his sanity. Soon the horses are ready, and the king begins his journey to his second daughter's palace. The setting is the Earl of Gloucester's castle. As the scene opens, Curan, a courier, tells Edmund that Regan and Cornwall will be arriving that evening. Curan also mentions rumors of a feud between Cornwall and Albany. Edmund expresses excitement over Cornwall's visit because he imagines that he can involve the duke in his plans to discredit Edgar. As a means to that end, Edmund implies brotherly concern as he coaxes Edgar to slip away under the cover of night. Edmund suggests that Cornwall suspects Edgar of aiding his enemy, Albany. Edgar, innocent and unaware of any of this plotting, agrees to flee to protect himself. In another ploy to blemish Edgar's reputation, Edmund engages his brother in a fake battle, intentionally wounding himself to draw Gloucester's sympathy. In response to Edmund's explanation of his brother's attack, Gloucester promises to find Edgar and bring him to justice. Gloucester also pledges to make Edmund his heir. Regan and Cornwall enter. Without hesitation, they fall for Edmund's story and join in condemning Edgar. Cornwall proclaims that Edmund shall join forces with him. Regan and Cornwall flatter Gloucester by asking his advice on an appropriate response to letters received from Lear and Goneril. The setting is just outside Gloucester's castle. Kent and Oswald arrive separately to deliver letters to Regan. Oswald does not immediately recognize Kent. The steward is confused when Kent denounces him and condemns his lack of integrity. When Oswald denies knowing him, Kent draws his sword and begins to beat the steward. Oswald's cries for help draw the attention of the castle's occupants, who come to his rescue. In answer to Cornwall's query about the encounter, Kent attacks Oswald's personality, his lack of honesty, and even his appearance. Cornwall defends Oswald and orders that Kent be placed in stocks. Gloucester intervenes, reminding Regan and Cornwall that the king will consider their action against his messenger as an indignity, but Regan suggests that insulting Goneril's steward is a more grievous offense. All exit but Gloucester, who apologizes to Kent for his mistreatment. When he is left alone, Kent reads a letter from Cordelia, which promises that she will somehow intervene on her father's behalf. The scene opens on Edgar, alone in the woods. In his soliloquy, Edgar relates that he is aware of his outlaw status. Thus far, he has escaped capture by hiding in the "happy hollow of a tree" (II.3.2), but he knows that to remain free, he must mask himself. Edgar lays forth a plan in which he will disguise himself as a Bedlam beggar, smearing dirt on his face and body, tying his hair in knots, and covering his body with a blanket. In this costume, he will be known as Poor Tom. Lear and his followers arrive at Gloucester's castle. Kent hails the king, who promptly asks who has placed his messenger in stocks. Lear refuses to believe that Regan and Cornwall would imprison and humiliate someone in the king's employ. Page 27

Regan and Cornwall decline speaking to the king, claiming fatigue from their journey. While Gloucester searches out the couple and secures Kent's release, the king's Fool presents a steady commentary on surrounding events — in prose and verse. Ushered to the scene by Gloucester, Regan greets her father with seeming affection, and Lear details the sorrow that Goneril has caused him. Regan urges Lear to restrain himself and behave as befits a man of his age. Regan also advises Lear to seek Goneril's forgiveness, which provokes the king to anger and cursing. With Oswald and Goneril now present, Cornwall admits to Lear that he ordered Kent's punishment. Lear's disgust and disillusionment are further compounded when Regan refuses to host her father and his full complement of knights. Goneril, conspiring with her sister, proposes that Lear dismiss his entire entourage. The king, angered by his daughters' rejection, calls for his horse. Lear states that he would rather live outside under the stars or beg shelter in France than stay in the company of those who disrespect his proper place as father and king. Regan and Goneril instruct Gloucester not to stop their father from venturing into the night. Regan and Goneril remain unmoved and unconcerned that the old king is going forth into a severe storm. The setting is the heath in a raging storm. Conversing with a gentleman — a character conveniently placed to enlighten Kent and the audience — Kent learns that Lear and his Fool are out in the storm. Kent relates that Albany and Cornwall are pretending amicability. Kent also divulges that the king of France has been apprised of this information and is moving with an invasion force to offer assistance to Lear. Kent instructs the gentleman to go quickly to Dover, and when there, to make known the treatment that Lear has suffered. Kent gives the messenger a ring for delivery to Cordelia. This signet jewelry will disclose Kent's identity. Kent leaves to search for Lear. The storm continues on the heath. Lear's mood matches the intensity of nature's turbulence as he rages against his daughters' abusive treatment. The Fool attempts to reason with his king, noting that the shelter of a dry house, even one gained by losing face, is superior to a stay in the storm's fury. But Lear will have no part of submission, especially before his daughters. Kent arrives and points to a nearby hovel, which promises some protection, while he returns to Gloucester's castle to ask that they admit the king. The Fool, alone, remains on stage to proclaim a prophecy. The setting is Gloucester's castle, where Gloucester and Edmund are conversing. Gloucester tells his son that when he asked Regan and Cornwall to leave, so that he might offer aid to Lear, they seized his house. Now Gloucester is little more than a prisoner in his own home, forbidden to even speak to the king. Gloucester also tells Edmund that he has heard of a plan to revenge the king's injuries, unaware that he is divulging the plans to a traitor. Gloucester exits. Alone, Edmund plans to gain Cornwall's favor by revealing the plan to aid the king. Although Kent directs Lear to a hovel for shelter, the king refuses to protect himself from the storm. The Fool runs from the hovel, exclaiming that a spirit has taken possession of the shelter. The spirit, who soon emerges, is Edgar disguised as Poor Tom, pitiful pauper. The king tears off his own clothing, making himself look more like the unclad Poor Tom. Gloucester enters the scene, carrying a torch. He has found both warm shelter and food for the king, but Lear declines, claiming that he needs to talk more with the Bedlam beggar. The disguised Edgar complains of the cold and everyone moves into the shelter. The setting is Gloucester's castle. Edmund betrays his father and wins Cornwall's approval by releasing the details of France's plan to aid the king. As reward, Edmund gains Gloucester's title and lands. Gloucester sets out to find food, leaving the king and his party in a farmhouse next to the castle. The Fool and Edgar take part in Lear's mock trial of Regan and Goneril. Gloucester enters and reveals that he has learned of a plot to kill the king. The group prepares to take Lear to Dover, where friends can come to his aid. Page 28

The setting moves back to Gloucester's castle. Cornwall is dispatching Goneril with a letter to Albany, telling him of the invasion by the King of France. Cornwall orders that Gloucester be found and brought to him. Edmund is told to accompany Goneril so that he is not present for Gloucester's punishment. Before Edmund and Goneril can leave, Oswald enters with news that Gloucester has warned the king and aided his escape to Dover. As soon as Gloucester appears on the scene, Cornwall orders him bound to a chair. Regan viciously plucks at Gloucester's beard, calling him a traitor. Intensifying the torture, Cornwall gouges out one of Gloucester's eyes. When a servant tries to stop the torment, Regan draws a sword and murders the steward. A Cornwall gouge out Gloucester’s other eye. When the old man calls out to Edmund for help, Regan reveals that it was Edmund who betrayed his father. At this, Gloucester finally understands that he has misjudged Edgar. After throwing Gloucester out to find his own way to Dover, Regan helps Cornwall, who was wounded in the fray, and both leave for Dover. The setting is the heath. A blinded Gloucester is led by an elderly man, one of his tenants. The ailing earl laments that he treated Edgar badly and wishes for the opportunity to once again touch his son, since he can no longer see him. Gloucester hears Edgar's voice and remembers Poor Tom from the night of the storm. In an act of humanity, Gloucester sends his tenant for some clothing so that the Bedlam beggar might be covered. Gloucester is concerned that the Old Man might suffer for having given assistance, so he dismisses him and asks Tom to be his guide to Dover, where he seeks the highest cliff. Tom agrees to take Gloucester to the cliff. The setting is just outside the Duke of Albany's palace, where Goneril and Edmund are now present. Oswald enters with news that Albany is a changed man. The steward relates that Albany was pleased to learn of the proposed invasion by France and displeased when he learned that Gloucester had been replaced by his younger son Edmund, who had betrayed his father. With this announcement, Goneril takes command of her forces and orders Edmund to return to Cornwall while she deals with Albany. As they part, Goneril gives Edmund a favor of her affection and a farewell kiss. After Edmund leaves, Goneril remarks on the favorable impression he makes compared with her weakling husband. Albany enters and angrily accuses Goneril of being an unnatural daughter. He also accuses Goneril and Regan of being like tigers, who have attacked their aged father. A messenger enters with the announcement that Cornwall has died of the wounds he suffered after blinding Gloucester. Albany is aghast at the news of Gloucester's torture and calls Cornwall's death divine justice. Albany vows revenge against Edmund for leaving Gloucester at the mercy of Cornwall. The setting is the French camp near Dover. Kent hears that the king of France has been forced to return to his own country. Kent asks a Gentleman if, upon reading his letters, Cordelia revealed any emotion, and learns that she did manage to keep her feelings under control. Kent responds by acknowledging the stars' influence, which have made Cordelia so different from her sisters. Kent, who is still disguised, states that he will bring the Gentleman to Lear in Dover, and at the proper time, he will reveal his own identity. The setting remains the French camp near Dover. Cordelia is now responsible for leading the French army in its defense of her father. Having learned of her father's deteriorating mental condition, Cordelia quickly sends an officer to search for Lear. She asks the doctor if there is any way the king's mental acuity might be restored and prays that her father's sanity is not lost forever. Within moments, a messenger arrives with news of the English army's arrival, and Cordelia prepares to use the French forces to help defend her father.

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The setting is Gloucester's castle. Oswald reveals to Regan that Albany's forces have been deployed, but with much reluctance. Regan is more interested in the letter that Oswald carries from Goneril to Edmund. Regan insists that the letter be given to her, because she is aware of Goneril's amorous glances toward Edmund. Regan tells Oswald that Edmund is to be reserved for her, since she is now a widow. Regan also directs Oswald to kill Gloucester if he finds him. The setting is the country near Dover. Edgar is leading his father to an area, which Edgar assures the suffering earl, is near the cliffs. After Edgar describes the harrowing view of the beach below the cliffs, Gloucester thanks his guide and gives him a jewel as reward for having fulfilled his service. Delivering a final prayer, Gloucester falls forward and loses consciousness. When Gloucester awakens, Edgar easily convinces his father that he has somehow survived the fall from the cliffs and that the poor beggar who was guiding him was really some kind of fiend. According to Edgar, instead of allowing his death, the gods have saved Gloucester. Accepting this explanation, Gloucester vows to be more accepting of the afflictions that he endures. Lear enters. Gloucester recognizes Lear's voice, whose simple babbling invokes Gloucester's sympathy. Lear's dialogue with Gloucester explores the role of justice, but at its end, the king dissolves into madness. A Gentleman and attendants arrive, having been sent by Cordelia to find Lear. But the king is frightened and runs from his rescuers. Before he leaves to follow Lear, the Gentleman tells Edgar that the battle is imminent, as both forces are nearby. As Edgar prepares to lead Gloucester to safety, Oswald enters. When he sees Gloucester, Oswald exclaims that Gloucester is the prize he sought and that he will kill the old man. Edgar interferes; the confrontation ends in a fight and Oswald is slain. The dying steward asks Edgar to take his letters to Edmund. The scene opens in a tent in the French camp. Cordelia is expressing her gratitude to Kent for the services he has tendered. Within moments, a sleeping Lear is brought into the tent, where Cordelia welcomes him with characteristic gentleness. As his senses return, the confused king asks if he is in France, and Kent assures Lear that he is in his own kingdom. Lear, Cordelia, and the doctor exit, leaving Kent and a Gentleman to discuss the most recent military developments. Regan, Edmund, and members of their army gather in the British camp near Dover. Regan quizzes Edmund about his feelings for Goneril. Edmund promises Regan that he will not be intimate with her sister. Goneril and Albany enter. Albany states that he intends to defend the kingdom against the French invaders. Goneril asserts that the fight is not a domestic quarrel, but a defense against an outside enemy. Edgar, still disguised as Poor Tom, appears and hands Albany the letter he removed from Oswald's body, the letter Goneril wrote ordering Edmund to kill her husband. Edgar leaves, and Edmund enters with news that the opposing forces are near. The setting is a field between the British and French camps. Cordelia, Lear, and their forces move toward the battle. Edgar enters, looking for a safe place for Gloucester to wait out the conflict. After placing Gloucester in a sheltered spot, Edgar leaves, and the sounds of battle are heard. In a few moments, Edgar returns and orders Gloucester to follow him to a more secure spot because Lear's forces have lost, and the king and Cordelia have been taken prisoner. The scene opens on the British camp near Dover. Lear and Cordelia are led in as prisoners, with Edmund as their jailer. As the two are led off to prison, Edmund gives a note to an officer and orders that the note's instructions be followed immediately. Albany, Goneril, and Regan join Edmund. Albany demands that the two prisoners be turned over to him. Edmund resists, saying that Lear and Cordelia will be held in safekeeping so that their presence does not divide the soldiers' loyalty. Albany orders Edmund and Goneril arrested for treason.

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Albany requests any man who is willing to support the charges against Edmund to appear. Edgar enters, and although he will not identify himself, he assures Albany that he is as noble as Edmund. With this statement, the brothers begin to fight, and Edmund falls. When Goneril announces that Edmund has been betrayed, Albany reveals the letter, which she does not deny. Instead, Goneril flees. Edmund admits that the charges against him are truthful. Edgar reveals his identity and tells his brother of recent events, including the news that after disclosing his identity to his father, Gloucester's heart proved too weak to survive the news. Edmund also reports that Kent has been in disguise, having been close enough to help his king during the recent period. A gentleman enters with news that Goneril has killed herself, but not before poisoning Regan, who is also dead. When Albany discovers Goneril's plan to have both Lear and Cordelia murdered, he quickly orders an officer to intercede, but it is too late. Lear enters with a dead Cordelia in his arms. Albany recognizes that Lear is king and will be served by his loyal subjects, but within moments, the king dies, his body covering that of his youngest daughter. Albany informs Kent and Edgar that they must now rule the kingdom together, but Kent replies that he will soon leave the world to join his master. Edgar is left to speak of the sad weight of these events, which everyone must now endure.

MACBETH CHARACTERS Macbeth A captain in Duncan's army, later the Thane (Lord) of Glamis and Cawdor. When Three Witches predict that he will one day be king of Scotland, he takes his fate into his own hands, allowing his ambition and that of his wife to overcome his better judgement. His bloody reign culminates in a battle against Malcolm and the English forces. Lady Macbeth The devilish wife of Macbeth, whose ambition helps to drive her husband toward the desperate act of murder. Subsequently, her husband's cruelty and her own guilt recoil on her, sending her into a madness from which she never recovers. Banquo A fellow-captain and companion of Macbeth, who also receives a prophecy from the Witches: that his children will one day succeed to the throne of Scotland. This information is sufficient to spell his death at the hands of the resentful Macbeth, who is later haunted by Banquo's ghost. Duncan King of Scotland. His victories against rebellious kinsmen and the Norwegians have made him a popular and honored king. His decision to pass the kingdom to his son Malcolm provokes his untimely death at the hands of Macbeth. Fleance Banquo's son, who, by escaping Macbeth's plot on his life, will go on to be father to a line of kings. Donalbain and Malcolm Duncan's two sons. Fearful of implication in their father's murder, they flee Scotland, Donalbain to Ireland and Malcolm to England, where he raises a large army with the intention of toppling the tyrant Macbeth. Macduff A thane (nobleman) of Scotland who discovers the murdered King Duncan. Suspecting Macbeth and eventually turning against him, Macduff later flees to England to join Malcolm. When Macbeth arranges the murder of his wife and children, Macduff swears personal revenge. Lennox, Ross, Menteth, Angus, Caithness Thanes of Scotland, all of whom eventually turn against the tyrannical Macbeth. Page 31

The Porter, the Old Man, the Doctors Three commentators on events, all of whom have a certain degree of wisdom and foresight. The Porter hints at the Hell-like nature of Macbeth's castle; the Old Man associates the murder of King Duncan with the instability of the natural world; the Doctors recognize disease and disorder even though they cannot cure it. The Witches Three agents of Fate who reveal the truth (or part of it) to Macbeth and Banquo and who later appear to confirm the downfall and tragic destiny of the tyrannical Macbeth. CHARACTERS MAP

PLAY SUMMARY Set in medieval Scotland and partly based on a true historical account, Macbeth charts the bloody rise to power and tragic downfall of the warrior Macbeth. Already a successful soldier in the army of King Duncan, Macbeth is informed by Three Witches that he is to become king. As part of the same prophecy, the Witches predict that future Scottish kings will be descended not from Macbeth but from his fellow army captain, Banquo. Although initially prepared to wait for Fate to take its course, Macbeth is stung by ambition and confusion when King Duncan nominates his son Malcolm as his heir. Returning to his castle, Macbeth allows himself to be persuaded and directed by his ambitious wife, who realizes that regicide — the murder of the king — is the quickest way to achieve the destiny that her husband has been promised. A perfect opportunity presents itself when King Duncan pays a royal visit to Macbeth's castle. At first Macbeth is loth to commit a crime that he knows will invite judgment, if not on Page 32

earth then in heaven. Once more, however, his wife prevails upon him. Following an evening of revelry, Lady Macbeth drugs the guards of the king's bedchamber; then, at a given signal, Macbeth, although filled with misgivings, ascends to the king's room and murders him while he sleeps. Haunted by what he has done, Macbeth is once more reprimanded by his wife, whose inner strength seems only to have been increased by the treacherous killing. Suddenly, both are alarmed by a loud knocking at the castle door. When the drunken porter of Macbeth's castle finally responds to the noise, he opens the door to Macduff, a loyal follower of the king, who has been asked to awake Duncan in preparation for the return journey. Macbeth indicates the location of the king's room, and Macduff discovers the body. When the murder is revealed, Macbeth swiftly kills the prime witnesses, the sleepy guards of the king's bedchamber, and Lady Macbeth faints. The assembled lords of Scotland, including Macbeth, swear to avenge the murder. With suspicion heavy in the air, the king's two sons flee the country: Donalbain to Ireland and Malcolm to raise an army in England. Macbeth is duly proclaimed the new king of Scotland, but recalling the Witches' second prophecy, he arranges the murder of his fellow soldier Banquo and his son Fleance, both of whom represent a threat to his kingship according to the Witches' prophecy. The hired murderers kill Banquo but mistakenly allow Fleance to escape. At a celebratory banquet that night, Macbeth is thrown into a state of horror when the ghost of the murdered Banquo appears at the dining table. Again, his wife tries to strengthen Macbeth, but the strain is clearly beginning to show. The following day, Macbeth returns to the same Witches who initially foretold his destiny. This time, the Witches not only confirm that the sons of Banquo will rule in Scotland, but they also add a new prophecy: Macbeth will be invincible in battle until the time when the forest of Birnam moves towards his stronghold at Dunsinane and until he meets an enemy "not born of woman." Dismissing both of these predictions as nonsense, Macbeth prepares for invasion. When he is told that Macduff has deserted him, Macbeth begins the final stage of his tragic descent. His first move is the destruction of Macduff's wife and children. In England, Macduff receives the news at the very moment that he swears his allegiance to the young Malcolm. Malcolm persuades him that the murder of his family should act as the spur to revenge. Meanwhile, in Scotland, Lady Macbeth has been taken ill: She walks in her sleep and seems to recall, in fragmentary memories, the details of the murder. Now, in a series of alternating scenes, the action of the play moves rapidly between the advancing army of Malcolm and the defensive preparations of Macbeth. When Malcolm's army disguise themselves with sawn-off branches, Macbeth sees what appears to be a wood moving towards his stronghold at Dunsinane. And when he finally meets Macduff in single combat, his sworn enemy reveals that he came into the world by cesarean section; he was not, precisely speaking, "born of woman." On hearing this news, Macbeth rejects one final time the Witches' prophecy. With a loud cry, he launches himself at Macduff and is slain. In the final scene, Malcolm is crowned as the new king of Scotland, to the acclaim of all. SUMMARY Act 1, Scene 1 Amidst thunder and lightning, three witches meet to plan their encounter with Macbeth, a Scottish general and the Thane of Glamis. They agree to gather again at twilight upon a heath that Macbeth will cross on his way home from battle. Act 1, Scene 2 King Duncan of the Scots awaits news of the battle between his men and the rebels led by the Thane of Cawdor. The King and his sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, meet a soldier who is weak and bleeding. He reports that Macbeth and Banquo have performed valiantly in the fight. His admiration of the noble yet brutal Macbeth is deep indeed: Page 33

For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name-Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smoked with bloody execution, Like valour's minion carved out his passage... Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, And fix'd his head upon our battlements. King Duncan is delighted at his captains' bravery, and, when Angus and Ross arrive to tell him that the Thane of Cawdor has surrendered, Duncan gladly hands over the Thane's title and all his land to Macbeth. Act 1, Scene 3 The Witches meet on the dark and lonely heath to await Macbeth. To pass the time they exchange boasts about their evil deeds. Macbeth and Banquo come across the Weird Sisters and we see immediately that Macbeth has a strange connection to the Witches, mimicking their famous words spoken earlier in the drama: "So foul and fair a day I have not seen". The Witches address Macbeth as Glamis, Cawdor, and King of the Scots. Macbeth is startled by what he sees clearly as a prophecy that he will be Scotland's next ruler. He is too stunned to speak and thus Banquo asks the Witches if there is any more to their premonition. They do have something to add, not about Macbeth, but about Banquo. They talk in riddles, telling him he will be "Lesser than Macbeth, and greater" and "Not so happy, yet much happier". They also tell Banquo that even though he will never himself be king, he will beget future kings of Scotland. Then the Witches disappear into the darkness, despite the pleadings of Macbeth, whose shock has turned to the lust for more information. Once alone, Macbeth and Banquo pretend not to believe anything the Weird Sisters have said, but in secret they cannot help thinking that there is a little truth to the Hags' words. Ross and Angus arrive and inform Macbeth that Duncan has appointed him Thane of Cawdor. Macbeth and Banquo are stunned by the turn of events, realizing that the Witches are right about one facet of the prophecy, and Macbeth cannot help but focus on their other, greater prediction that he will be king. Act 1, Scene 4 Macbeth and Banquo reach King Duncan's castle and Duncan praises Macbeth for his loyalty and valor. He also embraces Banquo and thanks him for his courage during the rebellion. He announces that he has decided to visit Macbeth's castle at Iverness, and that he has chosen his son, Malcolm, to be the Prince of Cumberland and, therefore, the next king of Scotland. Macbeth proposes that he leave early for his castle to make sure everything is perfect for the King's arrival, and Duncan happily approves. But Macbeth is really only concerned with the King's choice of successor. With ambitious thoughts racing through his mind, Macbeth again finds himself lusting after the crown: "Stars, hide your fires/Let not light see my black and deep desires". Act 1, Scene 5 The scene opens in a room in Macbeth's castle at Iverness. Lady Macbeth is reading a letter sent by her husband, reporting all of the strange events he has witnessed. She learns of the prophecy of the Witches and that one prediction has already come true. Lady Macbeth is ecstatic and she fixes her mind on obtaining the throne for Macbeth by any means necessary. But Lady Macbeth knows that her husband has a weakness that will prevent him from taking the steps required to secure the crown. She is sure that because Macbeth is an ambitious man, he has entertained the thought of killing Duncan, no doubt several times. But she fears that he is without the wickedness that should attend those murderous thoughts. Although the unusually vicious slaying of his enemies on the battlefield have us questioning his propensity for evil, Lady Macbeth feels that he is simply "too full o' the milk of human kindness" to kill King Duncan. She, however, thinks herself not as compassionate as her husband, and when a messenger arrives with word that Duncan Page 34

plans to visit Inverness, she is overjoyed that the opportunity to murder the King has presented itself so soon. She summons all the evil spirits to ensure that no pleadings of any man will come between her and her monstrous deed: Come you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty! Macbeth arrives at the castle and Lady Macbeth is ready to tempt him to join her in murder. She subtly hints at her intentions: "Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower/But be the serpent under it. He that's coming/Must be provided for...‖.Macbeth dodges the matter at hand and sheepishly tells her that they will speak further on the subject. Lady Macbeth confidently assures him, "Leave all the rest to me". Act 1, Scene 6 Duncan arrives at the castle with his sons, and Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, and others in his party. Ironically, Duncan and Banquo discuss the beauty of the castle while inside it reeks of moral decay. Banquo goes so far as to say that the "temple-haunting martlet" does approve of the castle and its sweet smelling fresh air. Unbeknownst to Banquo, this is a particularly inappropriate reference to the martlet, a bird known for building its nest near holy places. Lady Macbeth is the first to greet Duncan and his court. She welcomes them gracefully to her humble abode. As is the custom of the land, she tells the King that she has prepared an account of all that she owns so that Duncan may perform an inventory of his subjects' belongings. But Duncan does not want to discuss such matters. He again expresses his love for Macbeth and they all move behind the castle walls. Act 1, Scene 7 Macbeth is alone in a dining room in the castle. His conscience is acting up, and he is particularly worried about the punishment he will receive in the afterlife. "If it were done, when 'tis done, then twere well/It were done quickly." If there were no consequences to be suffered for killing Duncan, then Macbeth would not be so reluctant. But he concludes that even if heaven were not going to judge him, he cannot bring himself to kill Duncan, whom he believes is a good man and an excellent monarch. Lady Macbeth walks in on her husband and sees the indecision on his face. Macbeth tells her that he has changed his mind: "We will proceed no further in this business" .Lady Macbeth, who is ruthless beyond comprehension, refuses to accept Macbeth's decision. Instead, Lady Macbeth plays upon his emotions, calling him a coward and accusing him of not loving her. Her cunning words work well on Macbeth, and she turns his mind back to thoughts of murder. However, he is still afraid and he asks her "If we should fail?‖ with conviction and confidence enough for both of them, Lady Macbeth responds to her husband's doubts: "We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking place/And we'll not fail". Macbeth is once and for all convinced -- they will proceed with the murder of the King. Act 2, Scene 1 The night falls over the castle at Iverness. Banquo comments to his son, Fleance, that it is as black a night as he has seen. Banquo is having trouble sleeping, for the prophecy of the Witches is foremost on his mind. He hints that he too has been thinking ambitious thoughts and he begs the heavens for the will to suppress them: "Merciful powers/Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature/Gives way to in repose". Banquo meets Macbeth in the courtyard and he tries to bring up the subject of the Witches but Macbeth refuses to discuss them or their predictions. He bluntly replies "I think not of them", and bids Banquo goodnight. Macbeth goes to an empty room and waits for his wife to ring the bell, signaling that Duncan's guards are in a drunken slumber. Macbeth's mind is racing with thoughts of the evil he is about to perform and he begins to hallucinate, seeing a bloody dagger appear in the air. He soliloquizes on the wickedness in

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the world before concluding that talking about the murder will only make the deed that much harder to complete. Suddenly, a bell rings out. Macbeth braces himself and utters these final words: I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven, or to hell. Act 2, Scene 2 Lady Macbeth has drugged Duncan's guards and she waits in her chamber for Macbeth to commit the murder. She hears moans of torture coming from Duncan's quarters and she loses some of her composure. She fears that they have awoken the guards and she confesses that she would have killed the King herself if he did not resemble her own father. Macbeth returns a murderer; his hands dripping in the blood of his victims. The two whisper about the deed and Macbeth nervously recounts the cries each man made before he stabbed them. Lady Macbeth tells him to "consider it not so deeply", but Macbeth can focus only on their screams and the frightening realization that, when one cried "God bless us!", he tried to say "Amen" in response, but the word stuck in his throat. Lady Macbeth pleads with her husband to put the act out of his mind but Macbeth only thinks harder upon what he has done. He hears a voice cry "Glamis hath murther'd sleep: and therefore Cawdor/Shall sleep no more: Macbeth shall sleep no more!‖ Lady Macbeth insists that he go wash his face and hands and place the daggers that he has so carelessly brought back with him in the hands of the guards. Macbeth refuses to return to the scene of the crime and so Lady Macbeth goes instead. Alone, Macbeth stares at his blood-soaked hands: What hands are here? Ha! they pluck out mine eyes! Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making the green one red. Lady Macbeth comes back, now with hands equally bloody. They hear a knock at the castle doors and Lady Macbeth again demands that Macbeth wash up and go to bed, for they must pretend that they have been sound asleep the entire night. Macbeth's words of regret bring the scene to a close: "To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself/Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!" Act 2, Scene 3 The knocking at the south entrance grows louder and more frequent. A porter walks slowly to open the doors, pondering what it would be like to be the door-keeper of hell. Macduff and Lennox are at the doors, arriving to visit King Duncan. Macbeth comes down to greet the two noblemen. Overnight he has fully regained his composure and pretends that their early morning knocking has awakened him. Macduff proceeds to the King's chambers while Lennox tells Macbeth about the fierce storm they encountered on their journey to Inverness. In the howling wind they heard 'strange screams of death', and there were reports of the earth shaking. Macbeth's response is ironic and cruelly comical: "Twas a rough night" Macduff reenters, screaming that the King has been slain. He tells Lennox that it is a horrible and bloody sight, comparing it to Medusa herself. He rings the alarum bell while Macbeth runs to King Duncan's quarters. Macbeth reaches the guards who have been awakened by the bell. Before they can proclaim their innocence, Macbeth kills them and reports to Macduff that he has murdered Duncan's assassins in a fit of fury. Lady Macbeth pretends to collapse in a shock and, while the rest of the men tend to her, Malcolm whispers to his brother, Donalbain. The brothers are not as easily deceived as the others and they know their lives are in grave danger: "There's daggers in men's eyes" Donalbain adds, and they agree to flee Scotland. Malcolm will go to England and, to be extra cautious, Donalbain will go to Ireland. Act 2, Scene 4

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In this brief transition scene, an old man reports to Ross the strange omens that have coincided with Duncan's murder. Macduff enters and tells Ross that, since the King's two sons have fled Scotland, they are presumed to be the masterminds behind their father's murder. As a result of their treachery, their claim to the throne is forfeit, and Macbeth will be named the new King of the Scots. Act 3, Scene 1 The act opens at the royal castle on the day of a great feast to celebrate Macbeth's coronation. Banquo is the first to enter the great dining hall. The prophecy of the Witches races through his mind, and he begins to believe that Macbeth himself was responsible for the fulfillment of the Hags' prediction. He thinks upon his own destiny as foretold by the Witches. If Macbeth is now king, Banquo is sure to father future kings. A trumpet sounds and King Macbeth and his Queen enter the hall with Lennox, Ross, and a long parade of servants. Macbeth is very concerned with Banquo's activities for the day, and asks him where he plans to go before dinner begins. Banquo tells him that he and his son, Fleance, are going to ride on the vast castle grounds in the afternoon, but he assures Macbeth he will not miss the feast. Macbeth orders everyone to take the afternoon for himself and be 'the master of his time' until seven that evening, when the banquet will commence. Everyone rushes off, except Macbeth and a servant. He asks the servant to bring in two men that have been waiting at the palace gate. Alone for a brief moment, Macbeth reveals his plan to have Banquo and Fleance murdered while they are out riding. Killing now comes easier to Macbeth and he will gladly slay his friend and his child if it means securing the throne for his own lineage. The servant returns with the men whom Macbeth has commissioned to kill Banquo and Fleance. Macbeth gives them some final instructions and sends them on their way. As the scene comes to a close, we see Macbeth's transformation into a evil villain now complete: "It is concluded: Banquo, thy soul's flight/If it find heaven, must find it out to-night." Act 3, Scene 2 In another room in the castle, Lady Macbeth orders a servant to find her husband. Lady Macbeth is not as happy as she thought she would be as Queen of Scotland, and, although she hides it better than Macbeth, the murder is all that she can think about. Despite the fact that they now have exactly what they desired, Lady Macbeth confesses that they have gained nothing and lost everything by killing Duncan: 'Nought's had, all's spent'. Macbeth enters and he too admits to consuming feelings of guilt and fear. He laments 'In the affliction of these terrible dreams/That shake us nightly: better be with the dead'. Lady Macbeth wants to think of other, more pleasant things, and she tells her husband to be happy and enjoy his feast. Macbeth informs her that he has decided to kill Banquo and Fleance. She asks for details but, to save her from further guilt, Macbeth will not tell her any more: 'Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck'. Act 3, Scene 3 The two murderers set out to find Banquo and Fleance, riding on the palace grounds. A third murderer joins them, sent by Macbeth to ensure the killing is carried out according to plan. They hear horses approach. It is Banquo and his son, walking toward the stables, talking about the fun of the day. Night has fallen early and they carry a lit torch. The First Murderer attacks Banquo but before he dies he cries out to Fleance to run away as fast as he can. In the scuffle the torch goes out and Fleance successfully escapes into the dark countryside. The murderers know that they have left incomplete the more important task of killing Banquo's son, but they nonetheless head to the castle to report Banquo's death to Macbeth. Act 3, Scene 4 The banquet is underway in the great hall of the royal palace. Amidst the revelers, Macbeth sees the First Murderer and, as inconspicuously as possible, he walks over to speak with him. The First Murderer tells him that the blood Macbeth sees upon his face is Banquo's and that Fleance has escaped. Macbeth is unhappy with the news that Fleance remains alive, but he focuses on the good news of Banquo's death and decides to take his place at the dinner table. But Macbeth's seat is already occupied. It is Banquo's ghost, and Page 37

Macbeth is horrified. Before his stunned guests he begins to speak to what they believe is an empty chair: "Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you?/Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too". Lady Macbeth tells the guests that Macbeth is suffering from stress, and, when the ghost disappears, Macbeth regains his composure. He says that he has a "strange infirmity" and quickly calls for more wine and toasts the "general joy of the whole table." Unfortunately, Macbeth decides to mention Banquo specifically in the toast, which prompts the reappearance of Banquo's ghost. Macbeth again reacts to the spirit, much to the bewilderment of his guests. Lady Macbeth, afraid her husband is losing his mind and will reveal their crimes, bids the guests an abrupt goodnight and shuffles them out of the hall. When they are alone, Lady Macbeth, who is baffled by Macbeth's behavior, tells him that his lack of sleep is causing him to hallucinate. Macbeth insists that he must consult the three Weird Sisters to find out what dangers lie in wait. Macbeth and his Lady retire to bed and the scene ends with Macbeth's final thought that, because he is new to such heinous crime, his conscience is overactive, but he will improve with time. As he tells Lady Macbeth: "We are yet but young in deed". Act 3, Scene 5 Thunder crashes overtop a lonely heath where the Witches are gathered. Heccate, the goddess of witchcraft, scolds the Hags for not including her in their meetings with Macbeth. Heccate tells them that they must reassure Macbeth when he comes to visit, for she knows that security "Is mortals' chiefest enemy". Act 3, Scene 6 In a room in the palace, Lennox and another lord discuss the deaths of Duncan and Banquo. Lennox now suspects Macbeth has committed the murders and subtly reveals his thoughts in an exceptional speech, noted for its sustained irony. The lord also suspects Macbeth, and he tells Lennox that Malcolm has the support of Edward, King of England, and that Macduff has since sided with Malcolm and is gathering an army as they speak. They hope Malcolm and his troops return as soon as possible to help the Scottish rebels overthrow Macbeth. Act 4, Scene 1 The act opens in a dark cave. In the center of the cave a cauldron boils, and around it the Witches gather. They cast spells in anticipation of Macbeth's arrival. Macbeth enters and the Witches agree to show him what the future has in store. Amidst crashes of thunder, three apparitions appear. The first is an armed head, summoned to warn Macbeth that Macduff is coming back to Scotland to ruin him. The second apparition is a bloody child and it tells Macbeth that no man born of a woman can do him harm. This gives Macbeth great confidence: "Then live Macduff: what need I fear of thee?". The third apparition is that of a child wearing a crown and holding a tree. It tells Macbeth that: "Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until/Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill/Shall come against him". Macbeth is secure that the third apparition's prophecy will never be, for 'who can impress the forest?' or 'bid the tree unfix his earth-bound roots?'. Macbeth's confidence is restored, but one question remains: what of Banquo's prophecy? He asks the Witches if Banquo's descendants will still rule Scotland, and in response they summon a vision of eight kings. The kings pass over the stage in order; the last holding a glass. Banquo's ghost follows behind them, and Macbeth flies into a rage at the Witches who have revealed his worst fear. They dance and cackle and vanish into the darkness. Lennox enters the cave and Macbeth is worried that he has seen the Witches. But Lennox has seen nothing. He tells Macbeth that there are horsemen outside, come to report that Macduff has sided with Malcolm who is gathering an army of English soldiers. Macbeth decides that he must kill Macduff and his whole family as punishment for his betrayal. Act 4, Scene 2 Page 38

The scene turns to Macduff's castle where Lady Macduff is livid because her husband has left her and their son to go to England. Ross tells her to remain calm, reminding her that Macduff is wise and noble, and would not leave lest it was of utmost importance. Ross leaves and, in her anger, Lady Macduff tells her son that Macduff is dead. But her son is sharp like his father and he challenges her, prompting humorous banter between the two. A knock at the door interrupts their conversation. It is a messenger who has somehow learned of Macbeth's plan to have Lady Macduff and her son murdered. He begs her to flee at once and he runs from the castle in terror. Lady Macduff, sure she has done nothing wrong, hesitates to leave. This delay is costly indeed, for the murderers arrive and burst through the heavy wooden doors. They tell her that her husband is a traitor and one of the murderers grabs her son and stabs him, killing him instantly. Lady Macduff runs screaming from the castle, but the murderers chase her down and slay her. Act 4, Scene 3 Macduff has arrived at King Edward's palace in England. Malcolm, however, is distrusting of Macbeth because he feels that Macbeth, who was himself once noble and trustworthy, has corrupted everyone around him. Malcolm tests Macduff's loyalty to him and Scotland by pretending to be a greedy and base prince who will 'cut off the noble's from their land' when he gains the Scottish crown. When Macduff morns openly for his country that has one evil ruler and another in wait, Malcolm confesses that his words were only to test Macduff's commitment to him and Scotland. Ross comes from Scotland with the horrible news that Macbeth has murdered Macduff's family. Macduff, utterly destroyed by the foulness of the deed, cannot believe it, and must ask repeatedly if his wife and child are really dead. Malcolm implores Macduff to turn his anguish into anger: "be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief/Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it". Macduff vows revenge and they leave to gather their troops and head for Scotland. Act 5, Scene 1 With Macbeth busy assembling his men to fight Malcolm, Lady Macbeth is left alone in the castle at Dunsinane. When the two were together they could feed off each other's strength and prevent one another from dwelling on their crimes. But Macbeth is gone and Lady Macbeth is left to brood over the atrocities Macbeth has committed at her command. Her guilt and fear follow her even in dreams, and she begins to walk in her sleep. Her Gentlewoman has seen her several times rise from her bed. The Gentlewoman calls for a doctor who watches for two nights but does not see Lady Macbeth come out of her chamber. But, on the third night, he observes Lady Macbeth walk down the hall with a lantern, rubbing her hands violently. She reveals the events of that gruesome night and utters one of the most famous line in all of literature: "Out, damned spot! out, I say!" .The murder of Macduff's family and Banquo also weigh heavy on her mind: "The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? What, will these hands ne'er be clean?". The Doctor is horrified to know the truth and he refuses to report to anyone what he has just seen and heard for fear that his own life will be in jeopardy. He leaves the castle, knowing that no doctor can cure what ails Lady Macbeth: "More needs she the divine than the physician". Act 5, Scene 2 The action moves to the countryside near Dunsaine where the rebels, led by Lennox and Angus, await the English army that will soon arrive. They make plans to meet at Birnam Wood and Cathiness, one of the soldiers, tells the others that Macbeth is hold up in the royal castle preparing for the attack. Act 5, Scene 3 Macbeth is in his war room awaiting Malcolm and his troops. Because of the three apparitions, Macbeth is confident that he will be victorious, and he refuses to hear the reports from his generals. The Doctor comes in and Macbeth asks anxiously about his wife. The Doctor tells him that she seems troubled and cannot rest. Macbeth orders the Doctor to cure her: "Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased/Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow?".Quite courageously, the Doctor replies, "Therein the patient/Must minister to himself". Macbeth rejects his useless answer and angrily calls for his armour. Although we can Page 39

see Macbeth starting to crumble under the mounting pressure, he convinces himself that he is still not afraid of defeat "Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane". Act 5, Scene 4 Malcolm orders his men to each cut a branch from a tree from Birnam forest to provide camouflage as they attack the castle. Malcolm's command to carry the boughs signals the true end of Macbeth, for Birnam Wood is moving toward Dunsinane. Act 5, Scene 5 On the castle walls Macbeth waits, sure that Macduff and Malcolm will die of famine before they can penetrate his defense. Suddenly a cry is heard from within the castle. Seyton goes to investigate and, when he returns, he tells Macbeth that his wife is dead. With the news that he has lost his precious lady, Macbeth resigns himself to the futility of life. A messenger enters and reports that he has seen an amazing sight -- the woods are moving toward the castle. Macbeth is at first unbelieving and slaps the messenger, calling him a 'liar and slave!'. But Macbeth cannot deceive himself any longer and he vows that, if he must die, he will die a valiant soldier in battle: If this which he avouches does appear, There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here. I'gin to be a-weary of the sun, And wish the estate o' the world were now undone. Ring the alarum bell! Blow wind! come wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back. Act 5, Scene 6 In this very short scene we see Malcolm, Siward, and Macduff gathered with their troops on the plain before Macbeth's castle. They throw down their 'leafy screens', sound the trumpets, and wage their assault on the royal palace. Act 5, Scene 7 Macbeth has left the castle to fight Malcolm's army on the battlefield. Although he has resigned himself to defeat, he remembers the second apparition. Still convinced that he will never meet a man not born from a woman, he regains the hope that it is yet possible for him to escape. He meets young Siward who calls him a liar and challenges him to fight. Macbeth gladly obliges and, with his skill as a great warrior, easily kills the young man. But the noise of the fight attracts Macduff and he runs to confront Macbeth. Act 5, Scene 8 Macbeth, with his newfound hope and determination, continues to fight Malcolm's army. Macduff comes up behind him, demanding that the "hell hound turn ―and fight. Macbeth tells him to leave, for he does not want the blood of another Macduff on his hands. Macduff refuses and charges at Macbeth. They fight, and Macbeth boasts that he is indestructible: "I bear a charmed life, which must not yield/To one of woman born" Macduff reveals that he was not of woman born, but 'untimely ripped' from his mother's womb. Macbeth realizes that the Witches, in their evil trickery, have only helped in his destruction, and he resigns himself to death. Not far away, the victorious Malcolm rallies his soldiers. Macduff joins them, carrying the head of Macbeth. He hails the new King Malcolm and the King's promise of restoration brings the play to a close: We shall not spend a large expense of time Before we reckon with your several loves, And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen, Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland In such an honour named. What's more to do, Which would be planted newly with the time, Page 40

As calling home our exiled friends abroad That fled the snares of watchful tyranny; Producing forth the cruel ministers Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen, Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands Took off her life; this, and what needful else That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace, We will perform in measure, time and place: So, thanks to all at once and to each one, Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.

AS YOU LIKE IT CHARACTER Orlando de Boys This young Englishman is noble and pure of heart. His constant concern and care for Adam, the old family servant, immediately makes the audience esteem him. When he learns that his brother Oliver is planning to kill him, he leaves home and goes to the Forest of Arden with old Adam. In the forest, he attaches love poems addressed to Rosalind on all the trees. Finally, he and Rosalind are united and wed. Oliver de Boys He is supposed to teach his younger brother Orlando to be a gentleman, but he does not do so; he is a treacherous youth and tries to have Orlando killed. Orlando, however, saves him from being killed by a deadly snake and, later, from a fierce lioness, and finally the two brothers are reconciled. Oliver eventually falls in love with Celia. Jaques de Boys Like Oliver and Orlando, he is one of the sons of the late Sir Roland de Boys. He is favored by Oliver over Orlando, and he is sent away to school to learn how to be a proper gentleman. At the end of the play, he appears onstage and announces that the corrupt Duke Frederick has been converted to a life of goodness by an old hermit. Duke Frederick The "villain" of this comedy, he banishes his elder brother, and eventually he also exiles his brother's daughter, Rosalind, from the ducal palace. Just before the play ends, he is converted by a religious hermit, and, henceforward, he chooses to lead a monastic life in the Forest of Arden. Rosalind She is the most realistic and sympathetic character in the play. She falls in love with Orlando and shortly thereafter is exiled from the ducal court by Frederick. Accompanied by Celia and Touchstone, she goes to the Forest of Arden disguised as a young man, Ganymede. In the forest, she is wooed by Orlando, who is unaware that she is, in reality, his beloved Rosalind. Celia She is Rosalind's cousin and closest friend. When Rosalind is exiled by Celia's father, Celia accompanies Rosalind to the Forest of Arden. Since Celia isn't in love at the time, her practical answers to Rosalind's queries about love help to explore the depth of Rosalind's love for Orlando. Celia goes to the forest disguised as Aliena. Eventually she meets Orlando's brother Oliver and falls in love with him. Touchstone The court clown, he accompanies Rosalind and Celia to the Forest of Arden. There he falls in love with Audrey, a country woman. Touchstone is one of Shakespeare's greatest "fools." Yet he is very realistic in his philosophy, and he serves as a norm by which we can view the other characters.

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Jaques He is a man of the world, a free spirit. In his travels, he has affected Continental mannerisms of speech and dress, and he believes that his ideas are terribly profound when actually they are very shallow and very generalized. Jaques is satirized by almost everyone with whom he holds "deep discussions." Duke Senior His ducal rights are usurped, and he is banished to the Forest of Arden by his younger brother, Frederick. Ultimately, his lands and his possessions are returned to him. Adam He is the de Boys' old family retainer. He is dismissed by the nasty Oliver, and later he relates to Orlando that Oliver plans to kill Orlando while he sleeps. He accompanies Orlando to the Forest of Arden. Corin In contrast to Silvius, Corin is a real shepherd; he is quite knowledgeable about sheep and their care. His lines serve as a contrast to the courtly wit of Touchstone. He also serves as a contrast to the pastoral lovers, Silvius and Phebe. Audrey This simple country woman, along with William and Corin, serves as a contrast to the "town" characters. She has trouble expressing her thoughts and cannot fathom the wit of Touchstone, but their love is so rapturous that eventually they are wed. Silvius This shepherd represents the romantic lover in the pastoral genre of Elizabethan literature. He loves the shepherdess Phebe, but she constantly rejects him; despite this fact, however, he pines for her throughout the play and constantly threatens suicide if his love remains unrequited. Unlike Corin, he knows absolutely nothing about sheep. Phebe As the pastoral girl who is the beloved of Silvius, she is a stock figure of this type of romance — that is, she rejects the advances of Silvius, while he suffers from the woes of love-sickness. Surprisingly, she falls wildly in love with Ganymede (Rosalind in disguise), yet finally she weds Silvius. William He is a stock country character who serves as a contrast to the pastoral lovers, Silvius and Phebe, and also as a contrast to the "town characters." Amiens A lord attending Duke Senior; he has a light, delightful role, and in this role, he sings some of the most beautiful lyrics that Shakespeare ever wrote. Le Beau He represents the man-about-town. He speaks well but knows little, and his speech, his dress, and his mannerisms are all satirized in the play. Charles A professional wrestler whom Oliver tells to kill — or at least, maim — Orlando. Ironically, Orlando wins the match. Sir Oliver Martext This vicar is not too knowledgeable; he almost joins Touchstone and Audrey in wedlock, but Touchstone is dissuaded at the last moment by Jaques. Hymen The god of marriage appears in the final scene of the play to lead the masque and to give dignity to the subsequent marriage ceremony. Dennis Servant to Oliver de Boys. Page 42

CHARACTERS MAPS

PLAY SUMMARY Orlando, the youngest son of the now deceased Sir Roland de Boys, complains to Adam, the old family retainer, that his eldest brother, Oliver, has kept his Inheritance from him — that is, Oliver has neglected training Orlando to be a proper gentleman. Oliver arrives on the scene, and a bitter quarrel takes place. Adam parts the fighting brothers, and Oliver coldly promises to give Orlando his due. Learning that Orlando intends to challenge Duke Frederick's champion wrestler, a brute of a man called Charles, Oliver makes plans to have his brother killed in the ring. He convinces the slow-witted Charles that Orlando is plotting against him and that Orlando should be killed. At the match the next day, Duke Frederick, his daughter Celia, and his niece, Rosalind, watch Charles and Orlando wrestle. Charles has seriously injured his first three opponents, but in the match with Orlando, the young man's great speed and agility defeat the duke's champion. At first, Frederick is very cordial to Orlando, but when he learns the youth's identity, he becomes furious and leaves. The reason for the duke’s leaving is that Orlando's dead father, Sir Roland de Boys, had at one time been Frederick's bitter enemy. After Frederick stalks out, Celia and Rosalind congratulate Orlando, and Rosalind makes it clear that she finds him most attractive. Orlando returns her feelings, but he is so tongue-tied with embarrassment that he can say nothing. At the ducal palace, we discover that Celia and her cousin Rosalind are as close as sisters; Rosalind is the daughter of the rightful duke, Duke Senior, whose throne has been usurped by his brother, Frederick. Frederick has banished Duke Senior, along with a band of his faithful followers, to the Forest of Arden to live the life of simple foresters. Until now, it is only the strong bond between Rosalind and Celia that Page 43

prevents Duke Frederick from sending Rosalind away to share her father's exile. But suddenly, Frederick storms into the palace, accuses Rosalind of plotting against him, and, despite Celia's pleas for her cousin, banishes Rosalind. After her father leaves, Celia decides to go into exile with her cousin, and the girls set out for the Forest of Arden — Rosalind disguised as a young man, "Ganymede," and Celia disguised as a young country lass, "Aliena." Touchstone, Frederick's jester, accompanies them. Meanwhile, Orlando returns home and is warned by the faithful Adam that Oliver is plotting to kill him. Together, they too decide to set out for the Forest of Arden, hoping that they will find safety there. When his daughter Celia is missed, Frederick sends his men out to find Orlando. When he is informed of Orlando's flight to the Forest of Arden, Frederick assumes that Orlando is responsible for Celia's disappearance, and in a rage he sends for Oliver and commands him to find Orlando or else forfeit his entire estate to Frederick. In the forest, Orlando and Adam join Rosalind's exiled father and his men, while Rosalind and Celia, still in disguise, purchase a little cottage and a small herd of sheep and settle down to a peaceful, pastoral existence. One day, however, Rosalind finds that the trees in the forest are all covered with sheets of poetry, dedicated to her. The author of these poems, of course, is Orlando. So, still pretending to be the young man Ganymede, Rosalind meets Orlando, who is in the throes of love-sickness for having apparently lost Rosalind. Ganymede offers to cure Orlando of his love-sickness by pretending to be his lady-love, Rosalind. Orlando, she says, should woo Ganymede as though "he" were Rosalind. In turn, Ganymede will do "his best" to act as moody and capricious as a girl might just do and, eventually, Orlando will weary of all the coy teasing and forget all about love — and Rosalind. Orlando agrees to try the plan. Rosalind, meanwhile, continues to assume the guise of Ganymede and becomes accidentally involved in yet another complication: Silvius, a young shepherd, falls in love with Phebe, a hard-hearted shepherdess, but Phebe rejects Silvius' attentions and falls in love with the young, good-looking Ganymede. In the midst of all this confusion, Oliver arrives in the Forest of Arden. He tells Ganymede of a near escape he has just had with death. His brother, Orlando, he says, saved him from being poisoned by a deadly snake as he slept, and later, Orlando killed a lioness that was ready to pounce on Oliver. Oliver then tells Ganymede that he has been sent to this part of the forest to seek out a young man known as Ganymede and tell him that Orlando cannot keep his appointment with him. And there is more news: while saving Oliver's life, Orlando was wounded. Hearing this, Ganymede swoons. Later, in another part of the forest, Oliver and Celia meet and fall in love at first sight, and the jester, Touchstone, falls in love with a homely, simple-minded young woman named Audrey, who tends a herd of goats. Touchstone chases off Audrey's suitor, a lout named William, and although he realizes that he will never instill in Audrey any understanding of, or love for, such things as poetry, he still feels that he must have her. Duke Frederick, meanwhile, is alarmed by the daily exodus of so many of the best men of his court to the alliance that is growing in the Forest of Arden; he therefore decides to journey to the forest himself and put a stop to all this business. At the forest's edge, however, he meets an old religious hermit and is miraculously converted. At this point, Rosalind, still disguised as Ganymede, promises to solve the problems of everyone by magic. Shedding her male attire in private, she suddenly appears as herself, and the play comes to a swift close as she and Orlando, Oliver and Celia, Silvius and Phebe, and Touchstone and Audrey are married. Rosalind's father, the rightful duke, is joyous at finding his daughter again and is returned to his ducal status. Frederick's conversion is so complete that he renounces the world. At the end of the play, Rosalind comes forward and addresses the audience in a short but charming epilogue. In particular, she talks to all the lovers in the audience and wishes them well.

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DETAIL SUMMARY Act One, Scene One Orlando is in the orchard of his brother's house speaking with Adam, an old servant of the family. Orlando complains about the way his eldest brother Oliver treats him. Since Oliver is the eldest brother, he inherited all of Sir Rowland De Bois' estate as well as the responsibility for taking care of his younger brothers. Orlando is upset that he is kept away from school and forced to work with the animals at home. The see Oliver coming and Adam quickly hides. Oliver arrives and orders Orlando to do some work instead of standing idly around. Orlando spitefully tells Oliver that he has as much of their father's blood in him as Oliver does. Oliver angrily lunges at Orlando, who quickly grabs his older brother by the throat and holds him. Adam comes out of his hiding place and asks them to be patient with one another. Orlando replies that Oliver has denied him an education as befits his rank as a nobleman. He therefore asks Oliver to give him the small portion of money that Sir Rowland left him in the will (a thousand crowns) so that he may leave and seek his fortune elsewhere. Oliver agrees to give Orlando a part of his inheritance and then turns to Adam and tells him to "Get you with him, you old dog". Adam is offended to be treated thus after his many years of service to the family and leaves with Orlando. Oliver meets with Charles, the Duke's wrestler, and asks what is happening at court. Charles tells him it is the same old news, namely the new Duke has banished his brother the old Duke. The old Duke left with several lords and now lives in the forest of Ardenne where "they live like the old Robin Hood of England". Rosalind, the old Duke's daughter, has remained at court with her cousin, the new Duke's daughter. Charles then informs Oliver that he has learned that Orlando plans to challenge him the next day in the Duke's presence. Since Charles is fighting for his reputation, he indicates that he might end up hurting Orlando and he hopes that Oliver can dissuade his brother from challenging. Oliver cruelly tells Charles that Orlando has been plotting against his life, and that if Charles defeats Orlando but does not seriously injure him then Orlando will likely plot against him as well. Charles promises to hurt Orlando as much as possible, to the point where he cannot walk anymore. Act One, Scene Two Rosalind is saddened by the banishment of her father and Celia is trying to cheer her up. Celia urges her cousin to be happier and promises that she will always treat her with affection even though their roles in the world were reversed when Duke Frederick usurped Duke Senior's position. Rosalind agrees to try and be happy and proposes playing games such as pretending to fall in love. Touchstone, a clown, enters and cuts their conversation short. He tells Celia that her father wants to see her. She makes him provide some witty entertainment, playing with words until he states, "The more pity that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly". Le Beau, a courtier to Duke Frederick, arrives and the two women joke that he will force them to listen to news. Le Beau is greeted by Celia in French. He tries to tell them about a wrestling match but Touchstone and the women start to joke around with words again, causing him to lose track of the conversation. Le Beau finally is allowed to speak, and he tells them that Charles wrestled with three brothers and beat each of them in turn. The father, having seen all his sons defeated, is mourning their loss and the fact that the eldest broke three ribs in the process. He finally mentions to the women that if they stay where they are they will be able to watch the next match since it was appointed at this particular spot. They happily agree to stay and watch. Duke Frederick enters, telling his men that Orlando will not be dissuaded from wrestling with Charles and therefore deserves to suffer his fate. Rosalind interrupts the conversation and tells Frederick that she will speak to Orlando and try to convince him not to wrestle. Page 45

Celia begs Orlando to let her have her father call off the wrestling match. He tells the ladies that he has no one to lament him in the world and that he is willing to risk even death in pursuit of victory over Charles. Rosalind finally gives him her blessing, wishing him victory. Frederick sets up the match but tells them that they will fight until one of them is thrown to the ground. Orlando manages to get Charles and throw him, knocking him unconscious and thereby winning. Duke Frederick asks Orlando what his name is, and he replies that he is Orlando, the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois. Frederick is not happy to hear this since Sir Rowland was his enemy when he usurped the throne. He wishes Orlando well and departs without giving him any prizes. Celia is ashamed by her father's envious treatment of Orlando, but Rosalind is thrilled because her father was close friends with Sir Rowland. The two women approach Orlando and Rosalind gives him a chain from around her neck. He is unable to even say thank you because he is made speechless by Rosalind. She turns to leave, then thinks he has called her back, but finally exits with Celia. Le Beau returns and warns Orlando that the Duke has turned against him. He councils Orlando to leave immediately. Orlando first asks him who the two women were, and learns that Rosalind gave him the necklace. Act One, Scene Three Rosalind is also speechless after having met Orlando, and Celia marvels that her cousin has fallen in love so quickly. Duke Frederick arrives and angrily orders Rosalind to pack her things and leave. He tells her that if she is caught within twenty miles of the court then he will kill her. She protests that she has never done anything to him, but he still accuses her of being a traitor. Celia protests on Rosalind's behalf but Frederick remains unmoved and banishes Rosalind. Celia tells Rosalind that she will leave with her. Rosalind cleverly decides that they should dress as men and thus go to her father in the woods in disguise. She chooses the name Ganymede and Celia chooses to be called Aliena, meaning the "estranged one". They then agree to also get Touchstone to travel with them in order to provide some entertainment during their travel. Act Two, Scene One Duke Senior, the exiled Duke, is in the forest with his men. He compares the woods to paradise and tells them he is perfectly happy where he is. He asks them if they would like to go and shoot some deer. One of the lords remarks that Jaques, a stock figure who is constantly melancholy, had moralized on the virtue of killing the deer. He tells them that Jaques watched a wounded deer and remarked that they (the men) are usurping the forest from the animals. The Duke asks to be brought to where Jaques is located so he may speak with him. Act Two, Scene Two Duke Frederick has just learned that his daughter and Rosalind escaped during the night. He is furious about their running away. One of the lords informs him that they women were last overheard commenting on how wonderful Orlando is. Duke Frederick orders them to go to Oliver's house and seize Orlando, and if Orlando is absent then to arrest Oliver. Act Two, Scene Three Orlando arrives back at Oliver's house and finds Adam there. Adam warns him that Oliver is plotting to kill him by burning down Orlando's lodgings with Orlando inside during the night. Orlando asks the servant how he is expected to survive if he is thrown out of his house. Adam tells him that he has saved up five hundred crowns during his lifetime that he will give to Orlando provided Orlando takes him along. Orlando agrees to take Adam along with him. Act Two, Scene Four

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Rosalind and Celia, using the names Ganymede and Aliena, respectively, arrive at the Forest of Ardenne accompanied by Touchstone. Rosalind is dressed as a man and Celia as a shepherdess. They are all tired and complain that they cannot walk any further. Two shepherds, Corin and Silvius, arrive and discuss the fact that Silvius is in love with Phoebe. Rosalind, Celia and Touchstone remain unseen in the background. Corin, an old man, is trying to give Silvius advice but the younger man is claiming that Corin is too old to understand the way he feels. Silvius leaves and Rosalind remarks that she can identify with the way Silvius feels. Touchstone then tells them of some of the foolish things he did when he was previously in love. Rosalind orders Touchstone to approach Corin and ask if he will give them food for some gold. Touchstone calls him a clown, making Rosalind say, "Peace, fool, he's not thy kinsman". She then goes up to Corin and asks if there is any place where they can get food. Corin informs her that he works for another man and therefore is not allowed to provide hospitality. However, he mentions that the place is for sale and that Silvius was there to consider purchasing the land and flocks. Rosalind immediately offers to buy the land and hire Corin to take care of it with a raise in pay. Corin happily agrees to help them purchase the land. Act Two, Scene Five Amiens is sitting with Jaques and the other lords in the woods and entertaining them with a song. He finishes his song and Jaques asks to hear more. Amiens tells him it will make him melancholy but Jaques persists until he agrees. All of the men join in singing another song. Jaques then performs a verse that he wrote himself. After he finishes his singing, Amiens leaves to find the Duke. Act Two, Scene Six Adam has gotten tired and tells Orlando that he cannot walk any farther into the forest. Orlando promises to find him some food. In the meantime, Orlando carries Adam offstage to find him some shelter. Act Two, Scene Seven Duke Senior, accompanied by other lords, has been looking for Jaques. He is about to send them away to find Jaques when Jaques appears. The Duke comments that Jaques looks positively merry. Jaques tells him, "A fool, a fool, I met a fool i'th' forest, / A motley fool - a miserable world! - As I do live by food, I met a fool". Jaques describes meeting a man who lay on the ground and pulled out his watch. The fool commented that it was ten o'clock, that an hour before it had been nine, and in one hour it would be eleven. Jaques found the man to be so funny that he spent an hour laughing. He finally tells the Duke, "O that I were a fool". The Duke tells Jaques that he would only insult people if he had the license of a fool (fools were allowed to discuss any matter, even if it offended a noble, without fear of being punished). Jaques claims that he would be witty and that men would only be insulted if they had done something for which they deserved to be insulted. He is interrupted by Orlando who enters with a drawn sword. Orlando rushes in and cries out, "Forbear, and eat no more!". He orders the men to give him food. The Duke politely bids Orlando to sit down and join them. He is taken aback by the Dukes reply and comments, "Pardon me, I pray you. / I thought that all things had been savage here". Orlando then asks them to wait for him to get Adam so the old man may eat first. The Duke tells him they will not touch any of the food until he returns. Duke Senior remarks that the whole universe "presents more woeful pageants than the scene / Wherein we play in". Jaques replies with his famous speech starting: After Jaques' speech, Orlando arrives bearing Adam on his shoulders and sets the older man down. Both of them thank the Duke for his hospitality. Amiens then sings a long song for them after which the Duke indicates that he knew Orlando's father quite well. He bids Orlando come to his cave and describe what has happened to him. Adam is helped away by the other lords. Act Three, Scene One Page 47

Duke Frederick has not been able to find Orlando at Oliver's house. As a result he tells Oliver that he has a year to find his brother and bring him back, either dead or alive. In the interim Duke Frederick seizes all of Oliver's estate and will hold it until Orlando is brought to him. Oliver comments that he never loved his brother. Act Three, Scene Two Orlando enters with a piece of paper on which he has written a sonnet to Rosalind. He says that he will write his love poems on the bark of the trees. Orlando then hangs his sonnet on a tree and leaves it there, commenting, "Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree". Corin and Touchstone enter. Touchstone tells Corin what he thinks about the shepherd's life and then asks Corin if he was ever at court. Corin tells him "no" and Touchstone then says that Corin is therefore damned. He reasons that if Corin was never in court he never learned good manners, so his manners must be wicked, and if he has wicked manners then he is damned. Corin does his best to protest but cannot win the verbal battle against Touchstone. Rosalind, dressed as Ganymede, enters reading a poem that she has found on a tree. Every other line rhymes with Rosalind and Touchstone mocks it when she is done. He then composes a poem that has the same rhyme structure but insults Rosalind by comparing her either to animals or prostitutes. He then remarks, "Truly, the tree yields bad fruit". Celia, dressed as Aliena, enters with a poem as well. She proceeds to read it and it turns out to also be addressed to Rosalind. Celia sends away Corin and Touchstone before turning to Rosalind and asking if she knows who is hanging her name on every tree. Rosalind says that she does not and then pleads with Celia to tell her. Celia finally reveals that Orlando is the man leaving all the verses. Orlando and Jaques enter, and the two women hide in order to listen to them. Jaques tells Orlando that he would have been just as happy without his company, and Orlando says the same thing. Orlando then agrees to not mar any more trees with his writing as long as Jaques does not mar the verses by reading them unsympathetically. Jaques tells Orlando that he was seeking a fool when he met him. Orlando quips, "He is drowned in the brook. Look but in, and you shall see him". Jaques gets up and leaves after he realizes that he has been called a fool. Rosalind comes out and speaks to Orlando, asking him what the time is. He tells her there is no time in the forest, but she points out that time moves at different speeds for everyone. She then introduces Celia as a shepherdess and also her sister. Orlando, thinking she is a young man, remarks that she has a superb accent for a rustic man. Rosalind pretends to have had an uncle from the inland who taught her how to speak. Rosalind tells Orlando that a man has been going around the forest ruining the trees by carving the name Rosalind on the them. He admits to being that man and asks if she knows a remedy. She tells him that he is obviously not in love with Rosalind since his cheeks are not lean, nor is he disheveled enough to be in love. Orlando swears that he is in love with Rosalind and asks her if there is a cure. She tells him she once before cured a man of his love by making the man pretend that she was his mistress. After much acting the man went truly man and ended up living a monastic life. Orlando tells her that he does not want to be cured, but Rosalind says that if he pretends she is Rosalind she will do her best to cure him. He agrees to go to her cottage and to start calling her Rosalind. Act Three, Scene Three Touchstone has fallen in love with a goatherd named Audrey. She is a simpleton and does not even know what the word "poetical" means. Touchstone comments on the fact that she is chaste and good looking, but Audrey wishes that she were "foul", obviously thinking that "foul" is a term of praise. Touchstone ignores her nonsense and tells her that he will marry her. Throughout this scene Jaques is in the background watching and making sarcastic comments Page 48

Sir Oliver Martext, a vicar in the nearby village, arrives to marry them. He asks if there is someone to give away Audrey, telling Touchstone that someone must give her or the marriage is not lawful. Jaques emerges from his hiding place and agrees to give her away. However, before the wedding takes place Jaques asks Touchstone whether an educated man such as himself really wants to be married in the middle of nowhere. After listening to Jaques, Touchstone finally agrees to postpone his marriage and allow Jaques to counsel him. Act Three, Scene Four Rosalind and Celia are waiting for Orlando to arrive. Rosalind gets worried when he does not appear, and Celia tells her that a promise from a lover means nothing. Corin, the old shepherd, enters and tells Rosalind that he has located Silvius and Phoebe. He informs her that she can watch the two lovers together if she comes with him. Rosalind says, "Bring us to this site, and you shall say / I'll prove a busy actor in their play". Act Three, Scene Five Silvius is begging Phoebe to show him some mercy and say that she loves him. She scorns his love and tells him she does not pity him for the pain he feels while loving her. Rosalind emerges from where she was watching their exchange and tells Phoebe that she is rather plain looking. She further informs Silvius that he flatters Phoebe too much for her own good. Turning back to Phoebe, Rosalind says, "down on your knees / And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love; / For I must tell you friendly in your ear, / Sell when you can. You are not for all markets". Phoebe falls in love with Rosalind in spite of her harsh words. Rosalind urges Phoebe to listen to Silvius and scorns her love. However, she does tell Phoebe where to find her house in the forest. Rosalind then leaves with Celia and Corin. Phoebe is so enamored with Rosalind that she finally is able to empathize with Silvius. She agrees to stay and talk about love with him. Phoebe decides to write a love letter to Rosalind (whom she thinks is Ganymede). Silvius agrees to help her. Act Four, Scene One Rosalind, dressed as Ganymede, meets with Jaques for the first time. He explains that he prefers to be melancholy because he has seen the world and his ruminations on what he has seen make him sad. Rosalind tells him that she prefers a fool to keep her merry than experience (from traveling) to make her sad. Orlando arrives and Rosalind says goodbye to Jaques. Orlando approaches her and calls her Rosalind. She chides him for being an hour late and accuses him of not really being in love. Rosalind finally tells Orlando that she is in a good enough humor to allow him to woo her. He tells her he would rather kiss her than speak to her, but she asks Orlando what he would do if she refused. He claims he would die of love. Rosalind laughs at his naivete and tells him no man has ever died of love since the earth began. Orlando finally asks her if she will love him. Rosalind says she will and asks her sister Celia (still disguised as Aliena) to pretend to marry them. Orlando takes her hand and they perform a mock wedding ceremony. Rosalind then asks him how long he plans to love her. Orlando claims "for ever and a day". Rosalind replies, "men are April when they woo, December when they wed". She then gives Orlando a lecture about the way that women really act once they are married. Orlando is forced to leave her and meet the Duke for dinner, but he promises to return that afternoon. She warns him not to be late this time or she will consider him unworthy to call her Rosalind and pretend she is his lover. After Orlando departs, Celia tells Rosalind that she has slandered the entire female sex the way she is treating Orlando. Rosalind laughs and admits that she is deeply in love with him but cannot yet reveal who she is. Act Four, Scene Two Page 49

One of the Duke's lords has just killed a deer. Jaques, opposed to killing animals (see Act Two), tells the men present that they should present it to the Duke. He then makes the lords sing a hunting song which describes them wearing the deer's horns, a sign of cuckoldry. Act Four, Scene Three Rosalind is waiting for Orlando to meet her but he is late again. Silvius instead arrives and hands her a letter that he claims Phoebe wrote. He denies knowing what the letter says other than that its tone is angry, but Rosalind does not believe him. Finally she takes out the letter and reads it in front of Silvius. The letter is a love poem and does not chide her in the least. Instead Phoebe declares her love for Rosalind. Silvius is taken aback by the contents of the letter. Rosalind, feeling sorry for him, sends him back to Phoebe with the message that Phoebe must love Silvius or she (Rosalind) will never love Phoebe. Oliver, Orlando's older brother, shows up and asks if the women can tell him how to get to Rosalind's house. He is still searching for Orlando whom Duke Frederick ordered him to bring back to court. He asks if they are the owners, and Celia admits that they are. Oliver then presents Rosalind, whom he thinks is a man, with a bloody handkerchief that Orlando asked him to give. Oliver tells Rosalind that while he was asleep in the forest, Orlando happened to come across him sleeping under an oak tree. A large green snake had curled herself around Oliver's neck and was about to enter into his open mouth. When Orlando arrived it uncurled itself and crept into some bushes. Under those bushes a lioness lay waiting, her udders nursed dry, thereby making her ferociously hungry. Orlando, having seen all this, approached his older brother. Orlando almost left his brother sleeping there but instead chose to battle the lioness and kill her. Oliver woke up at the noise of Orlando fighting and realized that his brother had saved his life. He immediately regretted ever trying to kill Orlando. Orlando took Oliver to the Duke's cave and made sure his brother received hospitality. Orlando then fainted from loss of blood and Oliver had to bind up his brother's arm. Once Orlando woke up again, he asked Oliver to take the handkerchief to Rosalind and tell her the story. Rosalind faints once Oliver presents her with the handkerchief. Celia calls Rosalind, "Ganymede, sweet Ganymede!" until she wakes up. Oliver tells Rosalind that she does not have a man's heart. She admits as much, but asks him to tell Orlando that she faked fainting. Oliver says that it was too real to have been faked and tells her to fake being a man a little more. He finally leaves her to return to Orlando and tell him how she reacted to the story. Act Five, Scene One Touchstone and Audrey are still together. Audrey is anxious to get married and Touchstone promises they will soon find someone who can perform the ceremony. He then asks her about another man who claims her. Before Audrey can speak the other man, named William, enters. He is a polite man who is in love with Audrey. After being polite for a short while, Touchstone orders him to leave Audrey and allow her to marry him instead. He threatens to kill William if he should try to approach Audrey again. William leaves and Corin arrives and tells them that Rosalind orders them to come to her. Act Five, Scene Two Oliver has fallen in love with Celia at first site. Orlando is amazed by this, asking his brother, "Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you should like her?". Oliver is so excited that he even promises to give Orlando all of his estate so that he may remain in the country with Celia (whom he thinks is Aliena). Oliver further announces that he plans to get married the next day. Orlando consents to the marriage but feels heavy hearted because he misses Rosalind. She arrives, still pretending to be Ganymede, and Oliver leaves in order to allow his brother to speak with her. They both remark on how fast Celia and Oliver fell in love, but Orlando comments, "I, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes". He complains that in spite of his brother's happiness, he will be Page 50

depressed the next day during the wedding because he wants to be with Rosalind. Rosalind asks him, "tomorrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind?". In a turning point in the play, Orlando tells her, "I can live no longer by thinking". Rosalind tells Orlando that she can perform seemingly magical things. She promises that if he consents, she will arrange it so that he can marry Rosalind the next day at the same time Oliver and Celia get married. Silvius and Phoebe arrive together. Phoebe is still in love with Ganymede (Rosalind) and Silvius still loves Phoebe. Rosalind tells Phoebe to look at Silvius and love him instead. Phoebe turns to Silvius and asks him to inform Rosalind of what it is like to love. He replies, "It is to be all made of sighs and tears". All of the various lovers agree with him, naming the person they love. Rosalind finally gets fed up with the nonsense and emotional excess around her. She turns to each of them and orders them to show up tomorrow, promising that she will make sure they all get married. Act Five, Scene Three Touchstone and Audrey are commenting on how wonderful the next day will be when they get married. Two of Duke Senior's pages arrive and Touchstone asks them to sing a song for him. They do, after which he gets up and comments that it was a waste of time to listen to such a foolish song. Act Five, Scene Four Duke Senior is gathered with all of his men, Orlando, Oliver and Celia. The Duke asks Orlando whether he believes Ganymede will be able to do everything he said he would. Orlando tells him he can only hope it is true. Rosalind arrives with Phoebe and Silvius. She then asks the Duke if he will marry his daughter Rosalind to Orlando if she can make Rosalind appear. He agrees that he will. Orlando further agrees to marry Rosalind if she shows up. Phoebe has meanwhile promised that she will marry Ganymede, but that if she should refuse to marry Ganymede then she will accept Silvius as her husband. Rosalind and Celia then disappear in order to change their appearances. Touchstone and Audrey arrive, and Jaques remarks, "There is sure another flood toward, and these couples are coming to the ark". Touchstone then discourses on the proper etiquette about challenging someone to a duel. He makes fun of the procedures, naming seven degrees of accusing someone of lying before a duel must be fought. Touchstone finishes his discourse by explaining how using the word "if" can settle all disputes. Once Touchstone is finished, Hymen, the god of marriage, enters with Rosalind and Celia. Hymen rhymes every line and gets all four couples to join together. They are all married at once. Jaques De Bois, the middle brother of Orlando and Oliver, shows up to inform them that Duke Frederick had gathered an army and planned to round up all the men in the forest. However, on the way there he met a religious man and was converted. Duke Frederick resigned his crown and returned it to Duke Senior, choosing instead to join a monastery. Jaques, the melancholy character, decides to leave the woods and spend time with the newly converted Duke. Orlando becomes the heir to the entire Dukedom as a result of his marriage to Rosalind. Act Five, Epilogue Rosalind performs the Epilogue and tells the audience that she hopes they enjoyed the play. She then makes a pointed reference to the fact that "If [she] were a woman" she would kiss the men present. This reference to the fact that a male is playing her role is unusual. Rosalind ends the play with a curtsy and bids the audience farewell. ---------

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﷽ ISLAMIAH COLLEGE (AUTONOMOUS) VANIYAMBADI NEWTOWN Department Of English M.A (English Literature) 1st Year Second Semester

AMERICAN LITERATURE (UNDER CBSC) TEXT BOOK For First Year Postgraduate Course Subject Code: P6EN2004

EDITED BY

S.M.ABRAR AHMED.M.A, DTAS, DCHM, DNT, DMT, HDCA 223/74 K.K.STREET MUSLIMPUR VANIYAMBADI – 635751

AMERICAN LITERATURE

UNITS UNIT I

PAGE NO. POETRY

1. Walt Whitman

: A Child Said What the Grass Is

01

2. Emily Dickinson

: Success is Counted Sweetest

05

3. Robert Frost

: Home Burial

07

UNIT II 1. E.E. Cummings

POETRY : Any One Lived in A Pretty How Town

11

2. Langston Hughes : I Too Sing America

14

3. Sylvia Plath

18

UNIT III

: Daddy PROSE

1. R.W. Emerson

: The American Scholar

21

2. H. D. Thoreau

: Walden

25

UNIT IV

DRAMA

1. Eugene O’Neill

: Mourning Becomes Electra

36

2. Morsha Norman

: Night, Mother

41

UNIT V 1. Toni Morrison

NOVEL : The Bluest Eye

2. Tennessee Williams: The Glass Menagerie

43 50

A CHILD SAID Walt Whitman About the poet Walter "Walt" Whitman was an American poet and he was born on 31 May 1819 in West Hills, New York, United States and Died on 26 March 1892, Camden, New Jersey, United States, essayist, an journalist. A humanist, he was a part of the transition between transcendentalism and realism, incorporating both views in his works. A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped, Bearing the owner‘s name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose? Or I guess the grass is itself a child. . . .the produced babe of the vegetation. Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same. And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Tenderly will I use you curling grass, It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men, It may be if I had known them I would have loved them; It may be you are from old people and from women, and from offspring taken soon out of their mother‘s laps, And here you are the mother‘s laps. This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers, Darker than the colorless beards of old men, Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues! And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing. Page 1

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women, And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps. What do you think has become of the young and old men? What do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere; The smallest sprouts show there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, And ceased the moment life appeared. All goes onward and outward. . . .and nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier. SUMMARY The poem ‗A child said what is the grass?‘ was written by Walt Whitman, one of the pioneers of modern American literature. In it, he attempts to respond to a child‘s innocent question of what the grass is. Before I delve into a full-fledged analysis of the poem, I would like to point out a couple of key points about this poem. If a child were to come and ask you what the grass is, what would you say? You‘d probably tell him it‘s a plant, that it naturally grows, or, if you‘re exceptionally lazy, might tell him ‗it‘s complicated‘. But look at what Whitman does; he sets aside what he thinks he knows and digs deeper and deeper in an attempt to come to the root of the answer. In a manner akin to how children persistently ask question after question, Whitman questions his stance again and again throughout the poem until he finally reaches a desirable answer. By doing so, he attempts to answer the child‘s question by thinking like a child. Another interesting point worth mentioning is how the poem follows no clear-cut rhythmic scheme. Rather, it stumbles forward in a non-linear and haphazard way. It almost seems to follow the poet‘s stream of consciousness. All the answers and subsequent questions in his mind are laid out before us on the paper. By this approach, the poet takes us along with him on his journey for an answer. The theme of death dominates the piece. This is unsurprising as Whitman was a war nurse in the civil war and had seen much suffering and brutality. Through the course of this poem he seeks to philosophically ascertain that life is no different from death. Now; let‘s begin with the poem. Upon being asked what the grass is by the child, the speaker muses that it‘s impossible for him to answer as he doesn‘t know what the grass is any more than the child does. He begins to examine the possibilities of what exactly the grass could be. Mind you, it is important at this point of time to note that many of the lines or stanzas in the poem begin with the phrases ‗I guess‘, ‗Or‘, etc. By using such phrases his uncertainty and subsequent humility is brought to the forefront. This can be linked back to the aforementioned concept of attempting to analyse this problem from a child‘s point of view. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, Page 2

A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped, Bearing the owner‘s name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose? Or I guess the grass is itself a child. . . .the produced babe of the vegetation. He examines different possibilities; the first of which is particularly profound as it links to the themes that will emerge later on in the poem. The word disposition is used to refer to one‘s attitude, beliefs, or feelings on an issue. Thus, by calling the grass the flag of his disposition, he is quite literally saying that the grass perfectly represents his thoughts on life and death ( his belief that life is one continuous ciricle; death does not conquer, it just feeds the circle of life ). The reference to grass being the handkerchief of the Lord appears to be used for its imagery. Take a handkerchief and drop it on a table tennis ball; it‘ll cover the ball completely, adhering to its shape. Similarly, grass covers the earth like a blanket, like a divine handkerchief dropped. The poet now attempts to think of the grass as a product of the vegetation, the result of seeds, fertile soil and favourable weather. What is important about all of these is not so much the significance each one holds, but the manner in which they have been displayed. It seems as if each of these are points in Whitman‘s mind and as he philosophizes on, he is attempting to connect the dots and gain a better view of the overall picture. The following stanza is particularly important: Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same. In this section, Whitman begins to ponder on the indiscriminatory nature of the grass. The usage of the word hieroglyphic is somewhat deep as a hieroglyphic is a word written as a drawing. Information encoded in visual imagery. By referring to the grass as a hieroglyphic, Whitman hints that the grass is not merely there for aesthetic beauty, but that it contains some piece of vital information that we must seek out. The grass grows everywhere. Broad zones, narrow zones. Near black people, near white people. The grass doesn‘t care. In the last line, the subject suddenly changes from the grass to the poet ( I give them the same, I receive them the same). By doing this the poet is attempting to tell us that we should be more like the grass. Also, in case you were wondering, a Kanuck is an offensive term for a Canadian, a Tuckahoe for a Native American, a Congressman for the rich white majority, and Cuff for the enslaved black. These were vital notions for Whitman, who had lived through the Civil War, and seen so much violence, death and suffering over the question of slavery. The fact that the grass grows everywhere, and doesn‘t care about our differences, makes our prejudices seem shallow, foolish and petty. Whitman embraces this and incorporates himself into the stream of thought to show his support ( the usage of I). And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Tenderly will I use you curling grass, It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men, It may be if I had known them I would have loved them, It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken Page 3

Soon out of their mothers' laps, And here you are the mothers' laps. The contrast evoked between ‗beautiful uncut hair‘ and ‗graves‘ instantly catches the reader‘s attention. The sheer polarity, that tug, induced by having beautiful uncut hair and graves so close together in the sentence evokes a sense of energy. The imagery evoked is that of the earth slowly growing hair (untrimmed grass) from the bodies buried within it (graves). This link exists because, like hair, grass grows from roots. Hair can still grow on a human head after he or she dies, so the mentioning of hair goes back to the theme of life sprouting from death. Throughout the rest of the above stanza, Whitman continues to build on the idea of grass/death being an equalizer of sorts. Everyone is equal in death. The grass will grow form them nevertheless, regardless of who they were when they were alive. The final line twists the concepts of life and death in a macabre fashion by speaking on the death of a child. The children who have passed have been ―adopted‖ by Mother Nature. The ground holds them like a mother would. This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old Mothers, Darker than the colourless beards of old men, Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues, And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths For nothing. I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men And women, And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring Taken soon out of their laps. The first stanza implies that the grass is pulling its colour from the bodies beneath it. The dark green grass contrasts greatly with the pale white hair on dead elderly people. The usage of the word ‗tongues‘ can be read as talking about the language of the grass. ‗Tongues‘, in a biblical context, is a language that the angels of heaven speak and that no mortal can understand. Thus by saying that ‗they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing‘, implies that the grass means something, and is not merely there. This links back and emphasizes the point made earlier by referring to the grass as a ‗hieroglyphic‘. In short, Whitman is saying that the grass has a meaning, that it has a deep philosophical secret it is attempting to diverge to us. The sage of ‗I wish‘ in the third stanza, implies that he is unable to translate the hints. He wishes he could explain and justify the tragic deaths of people taken long before their time; but he cannot. The fact that death is inevitable and a requiem for life to continue conflicts with the undeniable tragedy of a premature death. The poet deeply wishes that he could explain or philosophize on this front but is unable to do so. What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and Children? The poet now asks another question, delving deeper and deeper in his search for the answer. He ponders on the fate of those who have died and who now lie buried under the earth. Off this question, Whitman leaps into the enlightening conclusion of the poem. They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, Page 4

And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at The end to arrest it, And ceas'd the moment life appear'd. All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and Luckier. This paragraph is not only Whitman‘s answer as to where the dead have gone, but is also his answer to the child‘s question. The fact that the dead are alive and well somewhere is odd to say the least, but as we read on we see how the poet has effectively bypassed our traditional views of life and death (life is the beginning, death is the end) and provided us with a much grander scheme of things. The death of a person allows for life, in some form or another, be it the life of the sprouts or the life of creatures. Life begets life. In the last 3 lines of the second last stanza, the poet implies that death is not to be mourned as life is nothing but a by-product of death. We are alive and life exists around us because of the death that preceded us. Through this stanza, Whitman paints a verbal picture of our world and its fascinating equilibrium; though constantly changing, everything obeys the law of conservation of energy, even life. Finally, the image of an expanding circle is evoked to visualize the recycling of life energy. We don‘t really die when our hearts stop beating as we are fed back to the earth that birthed us. The life cycle keeps on going and going and going and both the living and the dead are a part of that cycle, interacting freely with each other. By removing our fear of death and our desire to keep it at bay, Whitman, looking at the problem from the perspective of a child, has taken us with him on an amazing journey, at the end of which we‘ve seen life and death for the inseparable friends they really are.

SUCCESS IS COUNTED SWEETEST Emily Dickinson About the Poet Emily Elizabeth Dickinson was an American poet and she was born 10 December 1830, Amherst, Massachusetts, United States and died on 15 May 1886. Dickinson was born in Amherst, Massachusetts. Although part of a prominent family with strong ties to its community, Dickinson lived much of her life in reclusive isolation. Success is counted sweetest By those who ne'er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple Host Who took the Flag today Can tell the definition So clear of victory As he defeated – dying – On whose forbidden ear The distant strains of triumph Burst agonized and clear! Emily Dickinson-a great American female poet represented the farthest point in the 19th century American Poetry. American poetry in regard to the adventures of the spirit is beautifully reflected in her poetry. She Page 5

had the distinction of being a pioneer of 19th century American Poetry. She was an anticipator of metaphysical poetry, a smeller of modernity and a defender of romanticism. Conard Alken described her as, “The most perfect flower of New England-Transcendentalism.” ―Success in counted Sweetest‖ is a beautiful poem which presents ideas that success has important and values where there is an experience of failure. Speaking of defeat and success in life, Emily says that success is enjoyed and understood by those who do not attain it. The real pleasure in life is not reaching the goal but in the incessant struggle to reach there Theme of the poem ‗Success is counted Sweetest‘ is one of the representative poems of Dickinson showing her attitude to life. She deals with her ideas of success and defeat. She believes that it is defeat which makes one realize fully the real significance and value of victory. She gives a paradox of success and defeat, the victor and the vanquished. While the victor experiences in the glory of success, the vanquished clearly comprehends and can tell the definition of victory. The theme of poem is the perception of value won through deprivation. Critical Appreciation of the poem The poem begins with the view that success appears to be sweet to only those who have not been able to relish the test of world of achievements or success. The real nature of victory can be experienced only by those who have gone through the bitterest needs of life. For the truest value of the success, handwork, pain, frustration, and failure are required. Without these all thing success doesn‘t have any value. The first two lines are defining about the value of success. “Success is counted Sweetest By those who ne’er succeed.” These lines present her ideas of sweetness of success. Those who get it finds if sweet. But there contrast is what about those who have never succeeded? They count it sweetest. When they don‘t get, they comprehend what is lost by them. The idea of sweetness they would understand better than the victorious. Then the poetess considers success as nectar and says, To Comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need”. ‗Nectar‘ here stands for all the pleasant and delightful experience of life. Those who have never suffered from sorrow can never realize the real significance of nectar (exultation). The nectar is not on the side victorious. His value, glory, importance would go soon, it is not perment Then in the last stanza, poet describes defeated person in contradiction to the victor. “As he defeated-dyingOn those forbidden ear The distant strains of triumphs Burst agonized and clear. The victor doesn‘t know clear definition of victory. The king and his followers hold the flag of victory but they have victory only because success has come after loss of mental stress. But defeated ear knows what sort of clear sounds of victory can be. Though the heart of a defeated man is agonized, he is still capable of feeling of the nature of victory and better comprehends the value and pleasures of victory than victor. In this way, the poet compensates the defeated person by a great awareness of the meaning of victory. The meaning is that suffering is necessary for knowing the value of pleasure. Pain is the source of pleasure. Poetic Quality As far as poetic quality is concerned, we find characteristics like simplicity, lucidity and directness in the poem. We can find lucid and musical note. The poetess nicely uses alliteration. 1. Success is counted Sweetest 2. Who took flag today? Page 6

We can find varieties in diction of the poem. ‗Nectar‘ is a myth, to comprehend it show conception of mind and thinking. Use of Superlative degree two times gives to intensify the emotion. e.g. sweetest, sorest. Moreover the whole poem is built upon the paradox of victor and vanquished, success and defeat. As she says, “Success is counted Sweetest By those who ne’er succeed.” Conclusion The poem is considered as a definition poem. Through the poem Emily defines way of living life. Indirectly she takes of life of depressed, defeated, and dying man. She says there is success in defeat. Only suffering and miseries gives meaning to the human life and happiness. In this ways, she discovers good even in things evil. Hunger and defeat carry with them their own compensation. It is hunger which makes one realize the full sweetness of nectar. It is defeat which defines the full significance of victory. Summary This poem‘s message, carried forth in a few different metaphors, is that those who succeed never truly appreciate it—it is only those who fail, or who lack something, that can truly appreciate how wonderful it would be if they did succeed. The dilemma presented by this poem is that it is not just those who strive for longer before succeeding that can appreciate it more, it is only those who ―ne‘er succeed‖ who can count it ―sweetest‖ to succeed. This means, then, that no one ever truly appreciates success to its full desert, because those who could, once offered the chance, lose the ability to. The next metaphor changes the scope of the poem slightly; it is no longer just about success, but about want and desire, too. Here, for someone ―To comprehend a nectar,‖ that is, to truly understand all the wonderful aspects of nectar, and to be satisfied by it, not just to scarf it down, ―Requires sorest need.‖ That is, only the starving can truly appreciate food. Again, we have the dilemma that as soon as one has their first bite, they are no longer starving, and they quickly lose their ability to appreciate it. The final two stanzas elucidate one last, more extended, metaphor. Here Dickinson has taken us to a battlefield, and she compares the perspectives of the winning and losing sides. Not only can the soldiers in the winning army not feel the same appreciation of victory as the losing soldiers, but they cannot even truly understand what it is. Those soldiers left ―defeated‖ and ―dying‖ on the battlefield, however, can, as they must listen to the other side‘s celebrations of their victory.

HOME BURIAL Robert Frost About the Poet Robert Frost was born on March 26, 1874, in San Francisco, California. He spent the first 11 years of his life there, until his journalist father, William Prescott Frost Jr., died of tuberculosis. Following his father's passing, Frost moved with his mother and sister, Jeanie, to the town of Lawrence, Massachusetts. He saw her from the bottom of the stairs Before she saw him. She was starting down, Looking back over her shoulder at some fear. She took a doubtful step and then undid it To raise herself and look again. He spoke Advancing toward her: ‗What is it you see From up there always—for I want to know.‘ She turned and sank upon her skirts at that, And her face changed from terrified to dull. He said to gain time: ‗What is it you see,‘ Mounting until she cowered under him. ‗I will find out now—you must tell me, dear.‘ Page 7

She, in her place, refused him any help With the least stiffening of her neck and silence. She let him look, sure that he wouldn‘t see, Blind creature; and awhile he didn‘t see. But at last he murmured, ‗Oh,‘ and again, ‗Oh.‘ ‗What is it—what?‘ she said. ‗Just that I see.‘ ‗You don‘t,‘ she challenged. ‗Tell me what it is.‘ ‗The wonder is I didn‘t see at once. I never noticed it from here before. I must be wonted to it—that‘s the reason. The little graveyard where my people are! So small the window frames the whole of it. Not so much larger than a bedroom, is it? There are three stones of slate and one of marble, Broad-shouldered little slabs there in the sunlight On the sidehill. We haven‘t to mind those. But I understand: it is not the stones, But the child‘s mound—‘ ‗Don‘t, don‘t, don‘t, don‘t,‘ she cried. She withdrew shrinking from beneath his arm That rested on the banister, and slid downstairs; And turned on him with such a daunting look, He said twice over before he knew himself: ‗Can‘t a man speak of his own child he‘s lost?‘ ‗Not you! Oh, where‘s my hat? Oh, I don‘t need it! I must get out of here. I must get air. I don‘t know rightly whether any man can.‘ ‗Amy! Don‘t go to someone else this time. Listen to me. I won‘t come down the stairs.‘ He sat and fixed his chin between his fists. ‗There‘s something I should like to ask you, dear.‘ ‗You don‘t know how to ask it.‘ ‗Help me, then.‘ Her fingers moved the latch for all reply. Page 8

‗My words are nearly always an offense. I don‘t know how to speak of anything So as to please you. But I might be taught I should suppose. I can‘t say I see how. A man must partly give up being a man With women-folk. We could have some arrangement By which I‘d bind myself to keep hands off Anything special you‘re a-mind to name. Though I don‘t like such things ‘twixt those that love. Two that don‘t love can‘t live together without them. But two that do can‘t live together with them.‘ She moved the latch a little. ‗Don‘t—don‘t go. Don‘t carry it to someone else this time. Tell me about it if it‘s something human. Let me into your grief. I‘m not so much Unlike other folks as your standing there Apart would make me out. Give me my chance. I do think, though, you overdo it a little. What was it brought you up to think it the thing To take your mother-loss of a first child So inconsolably—in the face of love. You‘d think his memory might be satisfied—‘ ‗There you go sneering now!‘ ‗I‘m not, I‘m not! You make me angry. I‘ll come down to you. God, what a woman! And it‘s come to this, A man can‘t speak of his own child that‘s dead.‘ ‗You can‘t because you don't know how to speak. If you had any feelings, you that dug With your own hand—how could you?—his little grave; I saw you from that very window there, Making the gravel leap and leap in air, Leap up, like that, like that, and land so lightly And roll back down the mound beside the hole. I thought, Who is that man? I didn‘t know you. And I crept down the stairs and up the stairs To look again, and still your spade kept lifting. Then you came in. I heard your rumbling voice Out in the kitchen, and I don‘t know why, But I went near to see with my own eyes. You could sit there with the stains on your shoes Of the fresh earth from your own baby‘s grave Page 9

And talk about your everyday concerns. You had stood the spade up against the wall Outside there in the entry, for I saw it.‘ ‗I shall laugh the worst laugh I ever laughed. I‘m cursed. God, if I don‘t believe I‘m cursed.‘ ‗I can repeat the very words you were saying: ―Three foggy mornings and one rainy day Will rot the best birch fence a man can build.‖ Think of it, talk like that at such a time! What had how long it takes a birch to rot To do with what was in the darkened parlor? You couldn‘t care! The nearest friends can go With anyone to death, comes so far short They might as well not try to go at all. No, from the time when one is sick to death, One is alone, and he dies more alone. Friends make pretense of following to the grave, But before one is in it, their minds are turned And making the best of their way back to life And living people, and things they understand. But the world‘s evil. I won‘t have grief so If I can change it. Oh, I won‘t, I won‘t!‘ ‗There, you have said it all and you feel better. You won‘t go now. You‘re crying. Close the door. The heart‘s gone out of it: why keep it up. Amy! There‘s someone coming down the road!‘ ‗You—oh, you think the talk is all. I must go— Somewhere out of this house. How can I make you—‘ ‗If—you—do!‘ She was opening the door wider. ‗Where do you mean to go? First tell me that. I‘ll follow and bring you back by force. I will!—‘ Poem Introduction: Robert Frost is a great American poet who has created many creations. Home Burial is one of the greatest creations of him. It is a dramatic dialogue between a husband and with his wife. Form: This poem is considered as a dramatic or pastoral lyric poem in the terms of form, using free-form dialogue rather than strict rhythmic schemes. Frost generally uses five stressed syllables in each line and divides stanzas in terms of lines of speech. Frost splits the iambic pattern in lines 18 and 19, which both emphasizes the couple‘s relative, positions physically and provides a graphic illustration of just how far apart they are. Frost also uses this device in lines 31 and 32, 45 and 46, and finally in lines 70 and 71.

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Summary: Home Burial is a great narrative poem of Robert Frost. In this poem he has described an anxious conversation between a rural husband and wife whose child has recently died. In the beginning of the poem, the wife is standing at the top of a staircase looking at her child‘s grave through the window. Her husband, at the bottom of the stairs, does not understand what she is looking at or why she has suddenly become so distressed. The wife dislikes her husband‘s obliviousness and attempts to leave the house. The husband begs her to stay and talk to him about her sorrow. He does not understand why she is angry with him for expressing his pain in a different way. Despairing, the wife whips out at him, convinced of his apathy toward their dead child. The husband mildly accepts her anger, but the rift between them remains. She leaves the house as he angrily threatens to drag her back by force. Somebody think that it is a poem about the love of a mother to her child. A mother gives a child and takes with great care of it; but unfortunately after some days it dies. So, the lady has lost her all hopes. Gradually she becomes very excited and sorrowful but her husband is very normal. He buries his child and does all the activities very easily and normally. He does not face any type of problem. According to his view, it is the rule of nature and nobody can escape it. So, he is very easy and normal but his wife does not agree with him. Gradually, the wife is very angry for the activities of her husband. So, she does not want to stay with him in this house because his husband has buried her child in this house. She cannot endure it easily, so she takes preparation to leave the house. But her husband tries his best to stop her departure. At last the wife leaves the house. Development of Thought: In this poem the poet has described about two tragedies: first, the death of a young child, and second, the death of a marriage. As such, the title ―Home Burial,‖ can be read as a tragic double entendre. Although the death of the child is the substance of the couple‘s problems, the larger clash that destroys the marriage is the couple‘s inability to interconnect with each other. The husband is more accepting of the natural cycle of life and death in general, but also chooses to grieve in a more physical manner: by digging the grave for his child. Ironically, the husband‘s expression of his grief is completely misunderstood by the wife. Setting: The setting of the poem is a staircase with a door at the bottom and a window at the top. The wife stands at the top of the stairs, directly in front of the window overlooking the graveyard, while the husband stands at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her. While the couple shares the tragedy of their child‘s death, they are in conflicting positions in terms of dealing with their woe. The husband has dealt with his sorrow more successfully, as evidenced by his position at the bottom of the staircase, close to the door and the outside world. Theme: The theme of Home Burial by Robert Frost is the misapprehension between a husband and a wife. Critical Appreciation: In this poem we have found the behavior of a man and a woman. The author has wanted to show us that the women are emotional. Shakespeare says, ‗Frailty thy name is woman.‘ The author has to announce that, a woman is not a woman but a mother. So the wife of the husband is very sad for the death of her child. Actually it is not the fault of the wife to misunderstand her husband; it is the nature of a lady. On the other hand, a man has two powers; one is emotion and another is action. At first the husband tries to control his wife with his emotion but when he fails he applies force or action.

ANY ONE LIVED IN A PRETTY HOW TOWN E.E. Cummings About the poet Edward Estlin "E. E." Cummings (October 14, 1894 – September 3, 1962), often styled as e e cummings, as he sometimes signed his name, was an American poet, painter, essayist, author, and Page 11

playwright. He wrote approximately 2900 poems, two autobiographical novels, four plays, and several essays. anyone lived in a pretty how town (with up so floating many bells down) spring summer autumn winter he sang his didn‘t he danced his did. Women and men(both little and small) cared for anyone not at all they sowed their isn‘t they reaped their same sun moon stars rain children guessed(but only a few and down they forgot as up they grew autumn winter spring summer) that noone loved him more by more when by now and tree by leaf she laughed his joy she cried his grief bird by snow and stir by still anyone‘s any was all to her someones married their everyones laughed their cryings and did their dance (sleep wake hope and then)they said their nevers they slept their dream stars rain sun moon (and only the snow can begin to explain how children are apt to forget to remember with up so floating many bells down) one day anyone died i guess (and noone stooped to kiss his face) busy folk buried them side by side little by little and was by was all by all and deep by deep and more by more they dream their sleep noone and anyone earth by april wish by spirit and if by yes. Women and men(both dong and ding) summer autumn winter spring reaped their sowing and went their came sun moon stars rain Page 12

INTRODUCTION The poem "anyone lived in a pretty how town" is one of the most anthologized works by one of America's most anthologized poets, e. e. cummings. Cummings, one of America's leading modernist poets, was known for his experimentation with capitalization, punctuation, and syntax (the sequence of arranged words) in his work. By playing with these elements of language, cummings challenged the very nature and meaning of language, often resulting in new and surprising meanings. Additionally, cummings rarely titled his poems, perhaps wishing to avoid giving them any added meaning outside of their text. Thus, although his poems were often numbered, they became known by their first lines, as is the case with "anyone lived in a pretty how town." The poem is also characteristic of cummings's style, and due to the syntactical acrobatics in "anyone lived in a pretty how town," the poem can be read in several ways. On one level, it is about the inner self and the individual in conventional (i.e., conformist) society. On another level, it is a love story between a figure named Noone (No one) and a figure named Anyone. On yet another level, the poem is about the passage of time. POEM SUMMARY Cummings's "anyone lived in a pretty how town" consists of nine four-line stanzas. The poem is predominantly written in tetrameter, or lines consisting of four feet (each foot represents one stressed syllable and one unstressed syllable). Stanza 1 The first line of the poem, which is also the poem's title, introduces the character of Anyone and the picturesque village that he lives in. The next line mentions the sound of the bells that can often be heard in the town. Presumably this refers to church bells, which announce holidays, weddings, funerals, and other events that mark the passage of time and of individual lives. The third line lists the seasons, again underscoring the passage of time. The stanza's final line, which is a bit nonsensical, is meant to represent Anyone's exploits as he goes through life. Stanza 2 The poem then mentions the other townspeople, stating that they do not concern themselves with Anyone. Instead, they go about conducting their small lives. The final line of this stanza mentions celestial bodies and precipitation, natural phenomena that, like the seasons, mark time as it passes. Stanza 3 In the third stanza, a minority of the youngsters in the town have an inkling that Noone (who is first introduced in the final line of the stanza) is falling in love with Anyone. The children of the town, however, become less aware of those around them and more self-involved as they mature into adulthood. In the third line of the stanza, the list of the four seasons is repeated. Yet the order in which they appear has been changed. This change further emphasizes time and its passage. Stanza 4 Mentioning trees and their leaves, as if to indicate that it is autumn (the first season mentioned in the list in the previous stanza), Noone's love for Anyone is expounded upon. She is happy when he is happy and sad when he is sad. The third line of the stanza perhaps indicates that the season has changed from autumn to winter. The stanza's final line once again underscores Noone's love for Anyone; anything related to him is of the utmost importance to her. Stanza 5 Other people in the town, the Someones and the Everyones, wed and live together. They experience the happy and the sad moments of life. They rise in the morning and go to bed at night. They live out their lives in the rhythmic (and somewhat banal manner) in which lives are generally lived. The fourth and final line of this stanza implies that the townspeople die in much the same way as they have lived; i.e., as a matter of course. Page 13

Stanza 6 Stanza 6 opens with the aforementioned list of celestial bodies. The order, like the repeated list of the seasons, has been rearranged. In this instance, the changed order suggests that time has moved from day to night. This is reinforced by the second line of the stanza and the mention of winter. Only the winter (i.e., the passage of time) can address why children grow up and are no longer able to see the small mysteries of life around them. The second line of the first stanza, which refers to the bells heard throughout the town, is repeated. Indeed, this stanza mentions children as they grow up and then links this to the church bells that ring to signify the events that mark the rhythms of life, such as birth, marriage, and death. Stanza 7 Anyone dies and Noone mourns him. She, too, eventually dies, which is implied by the statement that they are buried beside each other. In a nod to the fact that life goes on, Anyone and Noone are interred by townspeople who live hectic lives and have little (if any) time to stop and reflect upon the burial. In the stanza's final line, time crawls by in small increments. Stanza 8 As time passes, Anyone and Noone live in their deaths, a sort of slumber that is filled with dreams. Their bodies decompose and fuel the soil and the coming of spring. Stanza 9 The townspeople are likened to the sounds of the church bells, and the list of seasons repeats itself in yet another variation on their order. The townspeople are born and they die. They live the same lives and this cycle repeats itself endlessly. In the final line, the celestial bodies are listed once more, though they retain the order in which they first appeared in the poem's second stanza. THEMES One of the most prominent themes in "anyone lived in a pretty how town" is that of the passage of time. This is communicated in the thrice-repeated lists of seasons and of celestial bodies coupled with the rain. With one exception, each time the lists are repeated, the order in which they appear has been rearranged. Used to tell time long before the invention of clocks and calendars, the seasons, heavenly bodies, and weather are ancient signifiers of time as it passes. Additionally, there are two references to children growing up, one in stanza 3 and one in stanza 6. There are two references to the bells ringing through the town, and these are presumably church bells. Church bells ring for holidays, births, marriages, and deaths; in other words, all of the major events that punctuate a life as it progresses. The other, less straightforward, instances that capture the passage of time are the life and death of Anyone and No one, and also of the townspeople, who live predictable and cyclic lives.

I, Too Langston Hughes About the Poet Langston Hughes. James Mercer Langston Hughes (February 1, 1902 – May 22, 1967) was an American poet, social activist, novelist, playwright, and columnist from Joplin, Missouri. He was one of the earliest innovators of the then-new literary art form called jazz poetry. I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, And eat well, Page 14

And grow strong. Tomorrow, I‘ll be at the table When company comes. Nobody‘ll dare Say to me, ―Eat in the kitchen,‖ Then. Besides, They‘ll see how beautiful I am And be ashamed— I, too, am America. Short Summary In this poem, the speaker, who is probably Hughes himself, is proclaiming to the world that he, too, is an American. He, too, sings America. He refers to himself as ―the darker brother,‖ and even though he is not allowed to be seen as an equal among men in his country,—he is continually hidden away by the white majority– he is still an important and integral part of America. Even though the poem is dealing with a very painful subject—racism—the poet and speaker are still hopeful that one day soon, the powers that be will be ashamed of the way they have treated African Americans, and they will see that they are also a part of the country. The speaker claims that he, too, sings America. He is the ―darker brother‖ who is sent to eat in the kitchen when there are guests visiting. However, he does laugh and he eats well and grows bigger and stronger. Tomorrow, he will sit at the table when the guests come, and no one will dare to tell him to eat in the kitchen. They will see his beauty and be ashamed, for, as he claims, ―I, too, am America.‖ Explaining line by line Line 1 I, too, sing America.  Right off the bat, this poem opens up some questions. For one, how can someone "sing" a country? And, secondly, who is the speaker referring to when he says "too"? Who else is singing America?  Let's tackle what's going on in that order.  Singing a country. Singing is a particular kind of speaking, so maybe to "sing America" means to tell someone something about America, or to speak of America. (Note, also, that poetry is intimately connected with music, so the verb "sing" works really well here.)  And even more on singing: think about what it can do that normal speaking, really, cannot. It can highlight emotion in different ways, and can call attention to different things. We won't do all the work here, but instead ask you to mull it over: how is speaking different from singing? And what effect does the phrase "sing America" have when contrasted with, say, "speak America"?  As far as the "too" is concerned, look no farther than Walt Whitman's "I Hear America Singing," the poem which some scholars think inspired Hughes's poem. (Read Whitman's poem here.)  In Whitman's poem, he lists all sorts of different Americans – carpenters, mechanics, boatmen, shoemakers, a girl sewing – and says that all of them are singing. We get the picture that America is like a song made up of many different voices singing. So Americans are a kind of chorus, where every person has an important part to sing. Page 15

 So maybe Langston Hughes's speaker is imagining Americans as a big chorus, all singing together, and he's saying he's part of the chorus too. He's also singing this song of America.  We'll also point out that one of Whitman's poetic trademarks, as it were, is a forceful and everpresent sense of self – the "I" in Whitman's poems is pretty much constantly in your face. (Want an example? Check out "Song of Myself.") There's a similar sense of self here in Hughes's poem too, too – after all, the first word in the poem is "I!" Line 2 I am the darker brother.  Wait, whose brother?  We're guessing that the "darker" here refers to skin color. Hughes wrote a lot about the AfricanAmerican experience, so he's probably talking about black Americans. (Check out, for example, "The Negro Speaks of Rivers" and "Harlem.") Not about "darker" things like, say, Voldemort.  But back to brotherhood. From the previous line referencing America, and knowing what we (now) do about the reference to Walt Whitman's poem ("I Hear America Singing"), we can probably go ahead and say that Hughes is referencing the "brotherhood" of all men in America.  So he's asserting his identity not only as a black man, but also as a vital and familial part of American society as a whole.  Notice also that it says "the darker brother" and not something like "one of the darker brothers." Is he speaking for all of the black community in America here? Kind of sounds like it to us. Lines 3-4 They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes,  Now, we're pretty sure that the speaker of the poem isn't literally being shunted into an actual kitchen the moment someone arrives. So what's Hughes talking about here? And who's "they," anyway?  Well, what this is, we think, is an allusion to the days of slavery – when the house servants were confined to their quarters when guests came to the house, to keep the slaves (and, by association, their race) out of sight.  Of course, though slavery had ended by Hughes's own time, racial segregation was still very much alive and well, so these lines also remain completely relevant to when Hughes himself was writing. These lines might also allude to a 20th-century house with black servants. There are all kinds of layers of time and meaning here.  What's wrong with eating in the kitchen, you ask? Well, it isn't like eating in the dining room as a member of the family, now is it?  The "they," then, becomes pretty clear – it's white people.  This bit, however short, paints a pretty dismal picture of a (not all that distant, mind you) past in which blacks and whites were segregated, with blacks being thought of as inferior. Lines 5-7 But I laugh, And eat well, And grow strong.  Just after we get two lines that bring the entirety of slavery to bear on the poem (making it a weighty affair indeed), we have the speaker just laughing, eating, and growing strong.  We also want to point out once again that the "I" in this poem is a kind of plural "I." What we mean by this is that the speaker here isn't actually speaking just for himself – he's speaking on behalf of his entire race and the history of that race. Page 16

 So even though our speaker's been sent away while company's around because of his race, his appetite isn't any worse off for it. Nor is his sense of humor. We can almost get a picture here of the speaker and the other house servants having their own little dinner party in the kitchen, growing strong with each other's support. And having a heck of a time.  These little lines set up the beginning of this poem's "turn," which is a kind of poetic change of mood Lines 8-10 Tomorrow, I'll be at the table When company comes.  First of all, the speaker probably doesn't literally mean tomorrow.  This poem works mostly by extended metaphor, and the "tomorrow" here is really alluding to a future time when blacks and whites will be equal.  This equality is expressed through the speaker's assertion that he, too, will "be at the table" the next time they have a party. Lines 11-12 Nobody'll dare Say to me,  These lines continue in the same vein as the previous three, wherein the speaker imagines a future in which he'll be treated with the same kind of respect with which white people treat each other.  In this case, the emphasis is even a little stronger – not only is he present at the table, but he will have some control over what people do and don't say to him (i.e., he will command respect). Lines 13-14 "Eat in the kitchen," Then.  Ha. So no one will dare tell him to eat in the kitchen anymore. Progress!  And, if we're thinking metaphorically (and it's poetry, so we should be), we can expand this notion just like we expanded the passage about "tomorrow."  Being told to eat in the kitchen is, in this case, representative of the larger problem that's being tackled in this poem – that is, the problem of racial inequality and injustice.  Think also about how inequality manifests (fancy word for "makes real" or "makes known") itself in our everyday lives – it's usually in the form of an unbalanced power relation. Hughes makes this even more apparent by actually "quoting" the whites who have been in power here – it makes the inequality take the form of a direct command.  Want more on this subject? Of course you do. Hop on over to our "Quotes" section, and we'll talk about this tidbit even more. Lines 15-17 Besides, They'll see how beautiful I am And be ashamed –  And the list goes on – the "besides" here can really be read as a sort of "in addition" or "also."  All that laughing and that eating well have paid off – the speaker here is framing himself as "beautiful."  Of course, though, this can also be looked at as a kind of realization on the part of the white people – as in, the speaker hasn't become beautiful over the course of the poem, but has rather been beautiful this whole time. It's just taken this long (too long) for everyone else to realize it. Page 17

 And you know when something's been really obvious, and you fail to catch on, and then suddenly you realize it and feel pretty stupid and embarrassed? (We've all been there – it's OK.) That's where the "ashamed" part of this passage fits in.  The narrator's basically saying, "Hey white America, once you people wake up and realize that I've been your equal all along, you'll feel pretty foolish."  And he's right, isn't he? Though Hughes wrote this poem before the Civil Rights Movement, he did a good job of predicting the future. In the 21st century, we Americans are ashamed of our history of prejudice and intolerance. Line 18 I, too, am America.  This line looks familiar. Almost.  It's the same as the first line of the poem, but with a little difference. The verb has changed from "sing" to "am."  Now, we know that your 9th grade English teachers probably told you that the verb "to be" is passive and bad and should be avoided in favor of more active verbs. Like "sing"! But in this case, "am" (which is just the present tense of "to be") makes this sentence way more forceful.  Why is that? Well, in this case, to "sing" something is kind of like a slightly more elaborate way of talking about something. But to full-on "be" something? That's a bigger deal.  At the end of this poem, the narrator is asserting his own existence, not "just" singing about something.  Moreover, he's claiming that he "is" America. A whole country! Impossible, you say. Well, true. But again, it's a poem, so we've got to think on a metaphorical level.  To "be" America, then, is to be representative of America. A country settled by a whole ton of different kinds of people, of all nationalities, backgrounds, cultures – you name it. The United States as a country has always been a diverse nation.  So as a member of a oppressed race, the speaker is asserting that he, too, belongs in America, is a part of it and is integral to its very existence. Just as much as anyone else.

DADDY Sylvia Plath About the Poet Sylvia Plath (October 27, 1932 – February 11, 1963) was an American poet, novelist, and short story writer. Born in Boston, she studied at Smith College and Newnham College at the University of Cambridge before receiving acclaim as a poet and writer. She married fellow poet Ted Hughes in 1956, and they lived together in the United States and then in England. They had two children, Frieda and Nicholas, before separating in 1962. Plath was clinically depressed for most of her adult life, and was treated multiple times with electroconvulsive therapy (ECT). She took her own life in 1963. Plath is credited with advancing the genre of confessional poetry and is best known for two of her published collections, The Colossus and Other Poems and Ariel, and The Bell Jar, a semi-autobiographical novel published shortly before her death. In 1982, she won a posthumous Pulitzer Prize for The Collected Poems. You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

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Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time—— Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the waters off beautiful Nauset. I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du. In the German tongue, in the Polish town Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My Polack friend Says there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare. Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obscene An engine, an engine Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew. The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true. With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew. I have always been scared of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. And your neat mustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Page 19

Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You—— Not God but a swastika So black no sky could squeak through. Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you. You stand at the blackboard, daddy, In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot But no less a devil for that, no not Any less the black man who Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do. But they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the screw. And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I‘m finally through. The black telephone‘s off at the root, The voices just can‘t worm through. If I‘ve killed one man, I‘ve killed two—— The vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now. There‘s a stake in your fat black heart And the villagers never liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you. They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I‘m through. Summary "Daddy," comprised of sixteen five-line stanzas, is a brutal and venomous poem commonly understood to be about Plath's deceased father, Otto Plath. Page 20

The speaker begins by saying that he "does not do anymore," and that she feels like she has been a foot living in a black shoe for thirty years, too timid to either breathe or sneeze. She insists that she needed to kill him (she refers to him as "Daddy"), but that he died before she had time. She describes him as heavy, like a "bag full of God," resembling a statue with one big gray toe and its head submerged in the Atlantic Ocean. She remembers how she at one time prayed for his return from death, and gives a German utterance of grief (which translates literally to "Oh, you"). She knows he comes from a Polish town that was overrun by "wars, wars, wars," but one of her Polack friends has told her that there are several towns of that name. Therefore, she cannot uncover his hometown, where he put his "foot" and "root." She also discusses how she could never find a way to talk to him. Even before she could speak, she thought every German was him, and found the German language "obscene." In fact, she felt so distinct from him that she believed herself a Jew being removed to a concentration camp. She started to talk like a Jew and to feel like a Jew in several different ways. She wonders in fact, whether she might actually be a Jew, because of her similarity to a gypsy. To further emphasize her fear and distance, she describes him as the Luftwaffe, with a neat mustache and a bright blue Aryan eye. She calls him a "Panzer-man," and says he is less like God then like the black swastika through which nothing can pass. In her mind, "Every woman adores a Fascist," and the "boot in the face" that comes with such a man. When she remembers Daddy, she thinks of him standing at the blackboard, with a cleft chin instead of a cleft foot. However, this transposition does not make him a devil. Instead, he is like the black man who "Bit [her] pretty red heart in two." He died when she was ten, and she tried to join him in death when she was twenty. When that attempt failed, she was glued back together. At this point, she realized her course she made a model of Daddy and gave him both a "Meinkampf look" and "a love of the rack and the screw." She promises him that she is "finally through;" the telephone has been taken off the hook, and the voices can no longer get through to her. She considers that if she has killed one man, then she has in fact killed two. Comparing him to a vampire, she remembers how he drank her blood for a year, but then realizes the duration was closer to seven years. She tells him he can lie back now. There is a stake in his heart, and the villagers who despised him now celebrate his death by dancing on his corpse. She concludes by announcing, "Daddy, Daddy, you bastard, I'm through." THE AMERICAN SCHOLAR Ralph Waldo Emerson About the Philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 - 1882) was an American philosopher, essayist and poet of the early Modern period. He was the leader of the Transcendentalism movement in the mid-19th Century. Summary and Analysis About The American Scholar Originally titled "An Oration Delivered before the Phi Beta Kappa Society, at Cambridge, [Massachusetts,] August 31, 1837," Emerson delivered what is now referred to as "The American Scholar" essay as a speech to Harvard's Phi Beta Kappa Society, an honorary society of male college students with unusually high grade point averages. At the time, women were barred from higher education, and scholarship was reserved exclusively for men. Emerson published the speech under its original title as a pamphlet later that same year and republished it in 1838. In 1841, he included the essay in his book Essays, but changed its title to "The American Scholar" to enlarge his audience to all college students, as well as other individuals interested in American letters. Placed in his Man Thinking: An Oration (1841), the essay found its final home in Nature; Addresses, and Lectures (1849).

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The text begins with an introduction (paragraphs 1-7) in which Emerson explains that his intent is to explore the scholar as one function of the whole human being: The scholar is "Man Thinking." The remainder of the essay is organized into four sections, the first three discussing the influence of nature (paragraphs 8 and 9), the influence of the past and books (paragraphs 10-20), and the influence of action (paragraphs 21-30) on the education of the thinking man. In the last section (paragraphs 31-45), Emerson considers the duties of the scholar and then discusses his views of America in his own time. Paragraphs 1-7 - Man Thinking Emerson opens "The American Scholar" with greetings to the college president and members of the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Harvard College. Pointing out the differences between this gathering and the athletic and dramatic contests of ancient Greece, the poetry contests of the Middle Ages, and the scientific academies of nineteenth-century Europe, he voices a theme that draws the entire essay together: the notion of an independent American intelligentsia that will no longer depend for authority on its European past. He sounds what one critic contends is "the first clarion of an American literary renaissance," a call for Americans to seek their creative inspirations using America as their source, much like Walt Whitman would do in Leaves of Grass eighteen years later. In the second paragraph, Emerson announces his theme as "The American Scholar" not a particular individual but an abstract ideal. The remaining five paragraphs relate an allegory that underlies the discussion to follow. According to an ancient fable, there was once only "One Man," who then was divided into many men so that society could work more efficiently. Ideally, society labors together — each person doing his or her task — so that it can function properly. However, society has now subdivided to so great an extent that it no longer serves the good of its citizens. And the scholar, being a part of society, has degenerated also. Formerly a "Man Thinking," the scholar is now "a mere thinker," a problem that Emerson hopes to correct successfully by refamiliarizing his audience with how the true scholar is educated and what the duties of this scholar are. Paragraphs 8-9 - The Influence of Nature In these two paragraphs comprising the first section on how a scholar should be educated, Emerson envisions nature as a teacher that instructs individuals who observe the natural world to see — eventually — how similar their minds and nature are. The first similarity he discusses concerns the notion of circular power — a theme familiar to readers of the Nature essay — found in nature and in the scholar's spirit. Both nature and the scholar's spirit, "whose beginning, whose ending he never can find — so entire, so boundless," are eternal. Order is another similarity — as it is in Nature — between the scholar and nature. At first, the mind views a chaotic and infinite reality of individual facts, but then it begins to classify these facts into categories, to make comparisons and distinctions. A person discovers nature's laws and can understand them because they are similar to the operations of the intellect. Eventually, we realize that nature and the soul — both proceeding from what Emerson terms "one root" — are parallel structures that mirror each other (Emerson's term for "parallel" may be misleading; he says that nature is the "opposite" of the soul). So, a greater knowledge of nature results in a greater understanding of the self, and vice versa. The maxims "Know thyself" and "Study nature" are equivalent: They are two ways of saying the same thing. Paragraphs 10-20 - The Influence of the Past Emerson devotes much of his discussion to the second influence on the mind, past learning — or, as he expresses it, the influence of books. In the first three paragraphs of this section, he emphasizes that books contain the learning of the past; however, he also says that these books pose a great danger. While it is true that books transform mere facts ("short-lived actions") into vital truths ("immortal thoughts"), every book is inevitably a partial truth, biased by society's standards when it was written. Each age must create its own books and find its own truths for itself.

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Following this call for each age's creating truth, Emerson dwells on other dangers in books. They are dangerous, he says, because they tempt the scholar away from original thought. Excessive respect for the brilliance of past thinkers can discourage us from exploring new ideas and seeking individualized truths. The worst example of slavish deference to past thinkers is the bookworm, a pedant who focuses all thought on trivial matters of scholarship and ignores large, universal ideas. This type of person becomes passive and uncreative, and is the antithesis of Emerson's ideal of the creative imagination: "Man hopes. Genius creates. To create, — to create, — is the proof of a divine presence." The non-creative bookworm is more spiritually distanced from God — and, therefore, from nature — than is the thinker of original thoughts. But the genius, too, can suffer from the undue influence of books. Emerson's example of this kind of sufferer are the English dramatic poets, who, he says, have been "Shakespearized" for two hundred years: Rather than producing new, original texts and thoughts, they mimic Shakespeare's writings. Citing an Arabic proverb that says that one fig tree fertilizes another — just like one author can inspire another — Emerson suggests that true scholars should resort to books only when their own creative genius dries up or is blocked. The last three paragraphs of this section refer to the pleasures and benefits of reading, provided it is done correctly. There is a unique pleasure in reading. Because ancient authors thought and felt as people do today, books defeat time, a phenomenon that Emerson argues is evidence of the transcendental oneness of human minds. Qualifying his previous insistence on individual creation, he says that he never underestimates the written word: Great thinkers are nourished by any knowledge, even that in books, although it takes a remarkably independent mind to read critically at all times. This kind of reading mines the essential vein of truth in an author while discarding the trivial or biased. Emerson concedes that there are certain kinds of reading that are essential to an educated person: History, science, and similar subjects, which must be acquired by laborious reading and study. Foremost, schools must foster creativity rather than rely on rote memorization of texts: ". . . [schools] can only highly serve us, when they aim not to drill, but to create." Paragraphs 21-30 - The Influence of Action In this third section, Emerson comments on the scholar's need for action, for physical labor. He rejects the notion that the scholar should not engage in practical action. Action, while secondary to thought, is still necessary: "Action is with the scholar subordinate, but it is essential." Furthermore, not to act — declining to put principle into practice — is cowardly. The transcendental concept of the world as an expression of ourselves makes action the natural duty of a thinking person. Emerson observes the difference between recent actions and past actions. Over time, he says, a person's past deeds are transformed into thought, but recent acts are too entangled with present feelings to undergo this transformation. He compares "the recent act" to an insect larva, which eventually metamorphoses into a butterfly — symbolic of action becoming thought. Finally, he praises labor as valuable in and of itself, for such action is the material creatively used by the scholar. An active person has a richer existence than a scholar who merely undergoes a second-hand existence through the words and thoughts of others. The ideal life has "undulation" — a rhythm that balances, or alternates, thought and action, labor and contemplation: "A great soul will be strong to live, as well as strong to think." This cycle creates a person's character that is far superior to the fame or the honor too easily expected by a mere display of higher learning. Paragraphs 31-45 - The Scholar's Duties After Emerson has discussed how nature, books, and action educate the scholar, he now addresses the scholar's obligations to society. First, he considers these obligations in general, abstract terms; then he relates them to the particular situation of the American scholar.

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The scholar's first and most important duty is to develop unflinching self-trust and a mind that will be a repository of wisdom for other people. This is a difficult task, Emerson says, because the scholar must endure poverty, hardship, tedium, solitude, and other privations while following the path of knowledge. Self-sacrifice is often called for, as demonstrated in Emerson's examples of two astronomers who spent many hours in tedious and solitary observation of space in order to make discoveries that benefited mankind. Many readers will wonder just how satisfying the reward really is when Emerson acknowledges that the scholar "is to find consolation in exercising the highest functions of human nature." The true scholar is dedicated to preserving the wisdom of the past and is obligated to communicating the noblest thoughts and feelings to the public. This last duty means that the scholar — "who raises himself from private considerations, and breathes and lives on public illustrious thoughts" — must always remain independent in thinking and judgment, regardless of popular opinion, fad, notoriety, or expediency. Because the scholar discovers universal ideas, those held by the universal human mind, he can communicate with people of all classes and ages: "He is the world's eye. He is the world's heart." Although he appears to lead a reclusive and benign life, the scholar must be brave because he deals in ideas, a dangerous currency. Self-trust is the source of courage and can be traced to the transcendental conviction that the true thinker sees all thought as one; universal truth is present in all people, although not all people are aware of it. Instead of thinking individually, we live vicariously through our heroes; we seek self-worth through others when we should search for it in ourselves. The noblest ambition is to improve human nature by fulfilling our individual natures. Emerson concludes the essay by observing that different ages in Western civilization, which he terms the Classic, the Romantic, and the Reflective (or the Philosophical) periods, have been characterized by different dominant ideas, and he acknowledges that he has neglected speaking about the importance of differences between ages while speaking perhaps too fervently about the transcendental unity of all human thought. Emerson now proposes an evolutionary development of civilization, comparable to the development of a person from childhood to adulthood. The present age — the first half of the 1800s — is an age of criticism, especially self-criticism. Although some people find such criticism to be an inferior philosophy, Emerson believes that it is valid and important. Initiating a series of questions, he asks whether discontent with the quality of current thought and literature is such a bad thing; he answers that it is not. Dissatisfaction, he says, marks a transitional period of growth and evolution into new knowledge: "If there is any period one would desire to be born in,is it not the age of Revolution; when the old and the new stand side by side, and admit of being compared; . . . This [present] time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it." Emerson applauds the views of English and German romantic poets like Wordsworth and Goethe, who find inspiration and nobility in the lives and work of common people. Instead of regarding only royal and aristocratic subjects as appropriate for great and philosophical literature, the Romantic writers reveal the poetry and sublimity in the lives of lower-class and working people. Their writing is full of life and vitality, and it exemplifies the transcendental doctrine of the unity of all people. Ironically, we should remember that at the beginning of the essay, Emerson advocated Americans' throwing off the European mantle that cloaks their own culture. Here, he distinguishes between a European tradition that celebrates the lives of common people, and one that celebrates only the monarchical rule of nations: "We have listened too long to the courtly muses of Europe." Making special reference to the Swedish philosopher and mystic Emanuel Swedenborg, Emerson contends that although Swedenborg has not received his due recognition, he revealed the essential connection between the human mind and the natural world, the fundamental oneness of humans and nature. Emerson finds much inspiration for his own thinking and writing in the doctrines of Swedenborg. Page 24

In his long, concluding paragraph, Emerson dwells on the romantic ideal of the individual. This fundamentally American concept, which he develops at much greater length in the essay "Self-Reliance," is America's major contribution to the world of ideas. The scholar must be independent, courageous, and original; in thinking and acting, the scholar must demonstrate that America is not the timid society it is assumed to be. We must refuse to be mere purveyors of the past's wisdom: ". . . this confidence in the unsearched might of man, belongs by all motives, by all prophecy, by all preparation, to the American Scholar," who will create a native, truly American culture.

WALDEN Henry David Thoreau About H.D.Thoreau Henry David Thoreau was born on July 12, 1817, in Concord, Massachusetts. He began writing nature poetry in the 1840s, with poet Ralph Waldo Emerson as a mentor and friend. In 1845 he began his famous two-year stay on Walden Pond, which he wrote about in his master work, Walden. Character List Henry David Thoreau The author of Walden, Thoreau is the book's narrator and its only main character. In 1845, at the age of twenty-eight, he built a cabin at Walden Pond in the woods of Concord, Massachusetts, and lived there for two years in an attempt to "live deliberately" and discover the essentials of life away from the distraction of village life. Educated at Harvard, he is a admirer of great literature, especially Homer, and has a wide knowledge of Eastern religions. A true nonconformist, he sees society and the "progress" of industrialization as destructive forces which keep people slumbering and unable to see and appreciate the true beauty of life. He finds companionship and inspiration in nature, exploring the relationship between humans, nature, and divinity. Though winter tests his spirits, the coming of spring rejuvenates his belief that he is a part of the ongoing life of nature. After two years, he leaves the pond, seeking new experiences and urging his readers to voyage into themselves to discover the truth. James Collins An Irishman who works for the Fitchburg Railroad. Thoreau buys his shanty from him and uses the boards to build his cabin at Walden. As he passes on the way to the house, he watches the Collins family with their possessions passing him on the road. Mrs. C. James Collins' wife, who shows Thoreau the shanty and assures him that the boards are good. Seeley An Irishman who, as someone later informs Thoreau, removed the staples, nails, and spikes from the Collins shanty to his own pocket, while Thoreau carts the wood to Walden, and stands by greeting him innocently. Owner of the Hollowell place A man who is about to sell his farm to Thoreau, who has already given him ten dollars, when his wife changes her mind. Thoreau lets him keep the ten dollars, deciding both of them are better off. John Smith A trader from Cuttingsville, Vermont, who is actually the product of Thoreau's imagination as he envisions where the hogsheads of molasses or brandy on the passing railroad are headed. An old settler The original proprietor of Walden Pond, believed to be dead, who stoned around the pond and fringed it with pine woods. Thoreau says he visits him in long winter evenings, implying he imagines encounters with this man, who may symbolize God as creator of the pond. They have long talks about old times and eternity. He is a beloved, though secret, friend to Thoreau. Page 25

An old dame Another imagined inhabitant of Thoreau's neighborhood, she is invisible to most people. Thoreau strolls in her herb garden and listens to her fables, going back to the origins of mythology. She is hardy and will outlast all of her children, and seems to be metaphorically linked to nature. A woodchopper A French Canadian man about twenty-eight years old who has been working in the United States for a dozen years, hoping to save up money to buy his own home in Canada. He works chopping wood near Concord, bringing a stone bottle of coffee and the cold meat of a woodchuck, caught by his dog to eat for lunch. He has a "stout but sluggish body," dark bushy hair, and dull blue eyes. He can pronounce Greek and will read Homer with Thoreau, when he visits his cabin, but has no real intellectual curiosity. Instead he is a prime example of man's animal nature. One older man An excellent fisherman, skilled at woodcraft, who sometimes winds his fishing lines on Thoreau's doorstep. The two sometimes fish together, and as the old man has lost his hearing, they do not converse. Instead, he hums psalms, which Thoreau finds harmonizes well with his silent philosophizing. John Field An Irishman who lives with his wife and several children in a hut near Baker's Farm. He is an honest, hardworking, but shiftless man who works as a "bogger," digging up meadows and bogs for farmers. He came to America to have access to luxuries like milk, coffee, tea, and meat everyday, and Thoreau is unable to convince him that if he were to do without them and work less, he would need to spend less money on food and clothing and live more simply and comfortably. Thoreau shelters in his house during a rain storm, after which Field leaves off bogging for the afternoon and fishes, albeit unsuccessfully, with him. He is Thoreau's nearest neighbor. His name, which relates to his work, suggests he is an amalgamation of many poor working men whom Thoreau knew. Mrs. Field John Field's wife who hopes to improve her condition someday. Thoreau finds her brave to cook so many successive dinners in that same stove. She seems to be compelled by the possibility of a simpler, easier life which Thoreau suggests but ultimately unable to make the arithmetic work out and the idea become a reality. Field's son One of John Field's several children, his oldest son is a broad-faced boy who assists his father at his work as a bogger. Field's infant John Field's baby, a wrinkled, sybil-like cone-headed infant who seems unaware that he is "John Field's poor starveling brat" and not the last of a long line of nobility. John Farmer Another product of Thoreau's imagination or an amalgamation of many farmers, he sits in his door one September evening, thinking about work, until he hears the sound of a flute (Thoreau's), which awakens him and suggests the possibility of a glorious existence rather than a mean condition. The entire encounter is a metaphor for the effect Thoreau hopes his book will have on his reader. Hermit A projection of part of Thoreau's self in an imagined dialogue between Hermit and Poet. Hermit wants to sit and philosophize. He has nearly been resolved into the essence of things as he has ever been in his life when Poet interrupts him to go fishing. This represents the dialectical conflict between spiritual and animal natures. Page 26

Poet In the dialogue with Hermit, Poet simply wants to look at the sky and go fishing. He represents the animal nature in man, in his interest in the material aspects of life, and perhaps disappointingly to Thoreau, it is he who overcomes Hermit in their conflict. Mr. Gilian Baker The owner of a "winged cat," who lives near the pond in Lincoln. The cat's wings are really long matted fur which grow during the winter. Mrs. Baker When Thoreau drops by to see the winged cat, the mistress of the house describes to him how she grows "wings" every winter and even gives him a pair of her old wings to keep. The cat, however, is out hunting, and he does not see her. A poet A friend who boards with Thoreau for a week during the time he is building his chimney, which leads him to sleep with his head upon the bricks for want of room. The two men work together building the chimney and cooking. Cato Ingraham A former inhabitant of the woods near Walden, who Thoreau thinks about during the winter months. Cato had been the slave of Duncan Ingraham, Esq. of Concord. Duncan built his slave a house, east of Thoreau's beanfield, and gave him permission to live in the woods. Cato, who was said to be a Guinea Negro, let a patch of walnuts grow up near his house to be used in his old age but a younger, whiter speculator got them. The cellar-hole of Cato's house still remains, though it is hidden by weeds. Zilpha A black woman who had a house where the corner of Thoreau's field is located. She spun linen for the townspeople and sang shrilly while doing it. British war prisoners on parole during the War of 1812 burned down her house, with her dog, cat, and chickens inside. Thoreau has seen bricks amid the oaks where her house was. Brister Freeman The former slave of Squire Cummings, whose house was on Brister's Hill, where his apple trees still grow. His gravestone, in the Lincoln cemetery, where he is buried near the unmarked graves of British soldiers from the Revolution, reads Sippio Brister, though Thoreau compares him to Roman general Scipio Africanus, and "a man of color." Fenda Freeman Wife of Brister Freeman, she was a hospitable woman who "told fortunes, yet pleasantly." Thoreau describes her as "large, round, and black, blacker than any of the children of night, such a dusky orb never rose on Concord before or since." Stratten A family whose homestead was near Brister's Hill. Their orchard covered the hill but was overgrown by pitch pines. Breed The name of a family whose house and tavern stood at the edge of the woods. The house stood empty for a dozen years until some boys from the village lit it on fire on an election night. Thoreau was one of the crowd who ran to fight the fire but it was decided to let the house burn. The next day, Thoreau encountered the only remaining member of the Breed family, who had come to look at the old house and found it burned.

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Wyman A potter who squatted with his family in the woods near the pond, never paying any taxes when the sheriff tried to collect. When a man who bought the potter's wheel from Wyman's son inquired of his whereabouts, Thoreau was glad to hear that such an ancient art had been practiced in his neighborhood. Hugh Quoil An Irishman, called Colonel Quoil, rumored to have been at Waterloo, who lived in Wyman's house and worked as a ditcher. A man of manners, afflicted with a trembling delirium, he wore a coat in the summer and had a carmine-colored face. He was found dead in the road soon after Thoreau moved to Walden and so he did not know him well, though he did visit the man's house when others worried it was unlucky. A long-headed farmer One of Thoreau's winter visitors, who walks through the snowy woods to his house to "have a social crack'" with whom Thoreau talks of simpler times. A poet (2) One of Thoreau's few winter visitors, he came the farthest and through the worst weather to Thoreau's house, at all hours. They spoke at length both in mirth and sober talk, making theories of life. A philosopher A visitor during Thoreau's last winter the pond. He is originally from Connecticut, he came through the village in snow and darkness and sees Thoreau's lamp through the trees. They have long philosophical talks during the winter evenings. An old hunter A man who swims in Walden in the summer and then visits Thoreau. He tells Thoreau of seeing a fox, pursued by distant hounds, stop and wait near Walden many years ago. He shot it and the hounds, curious, were surprised to find it dead. Sam Nutting The old hunter tells Thoreau about Nutting, who hunted bears on Fair-Haven Ledges and sold their skins for rum. Ice-cutters Men who come in January to cut the ice of Walden Pond and cart it away. They are Irish laborers with Yankee overseers, working for a man who already has $500,000. Walden freezes over again and when the ice blocks left behind melt they return to the water of the pond. Summary Although Thoreau actually lived at Walden for two years, Walden is a narrative of his life at the pond compressed into the cycle of a single year, from spring to spring. The book is presented in eighteen chapters. Thoreau opens with the chapter "Economy." He sets forth the basic principles that guided his experiment in living, and urges his reader to aim higher than the values of society, to spiritualize. He explains that he writes in response to the curiosity of his townsmen, and draws attention to the fact that Walden is a first-person account. He writes of himself, the subject he knows best. Through his story, he hopes to tell his readers something of their own condition and how to improve it. Perceiving widespread anxiety and dissatisfaction with modern civilized life, he writes for the discontented, the mass of men who "lead lives of quiet desperation." Distinguishing between the outer and the inner man, he emphasizes the corrosiveness of materialism and constant labor to the individual's humanity and spiritual development. Thoreau encourages his readers to seek the divinity within, to throw off resignation to the status quo, to be satisfied with less materially, to embrace independence, self-reliance, and simplicity of life. In identifying necessities — food, shelter, clothing, and fuel — and detailing specifically the costs of his experiment, he Page 28

points out that many so-called necessities are, in fact, luxuries that contribute to spiritual stagnation. Technological progress, moreover, has not truly enhanced quality of life or the condition of mankind. Comparing civilized and primitive man, Thoreau observes that civilization has institutionalized life and absorbed the individual. He writes of living fully in the present. He stresses that going to Walden was not a statement of economic protest, but an attempt to overcome society's obstacles to transacting his "private business." He does not suggest that anyone else should follow his particular course of action. Each man must find and follow his own path in understanding reality and seeking higher truth. Discussing philanthropy and reform, Thoreau highlights the importance of individual self-realization. Society will be reformed through reform of the individual, not through the development and refinement of institutions. In "Where I Lived, and What I Lived For," Thoreau recounts his near-purchase of the Hollowell farm in Concord, which he ultimately did not buy. He remains unencumbered, able to enjoy all the benefits of the landscape without the burdens of property ownership. He becomes a homeowner instead at Walden, moving in, significantly, on July 4, 1845 — his personal Independence Day, as well as the nation's. He casts himself as a chanticleer — a rooster — and Walden — his account of his experience — as the lusty crowing that wakes men up in the morning. More than the details of his situation at the pond, he relates the spiritual exhilaration of his going there, an experience surpassing the limitations of place and time. He writes of the morning hours as a daily opportunity to reaffirm his life in nature, a time of heightened awareness. To be awake — to be intellectually and spiritually alert — is to be alive. He states his purpose in going to Walden: to live deliberately, to confront the essentials, and to extract the meaning of life as it is, good or bad. He exhorts his readers to simplify, and points out our reluctance to alter the course of our lives. He again disputes the value of modern improvements, the railroad in particular. Our proper business is to seek the reality — the absolute — beyond what we think we know. This higher truth may be sought in the here and now — in the world we inhabit. Our existence forms a part of time, which flows into eternity, and affords access to the universal. In the chapter "Reading," Thoreau discusses literature and books — a valuable inheritance from the past, useful to the individual in his quest for higher understanding. True works of literature convey significant, universal meaning to all generations. Such classics must be read as deliberately as they were written. He complains of current taste, and of the prevailing inability to read in a "high sense." Instead of reading the best, we choose the mediocre, which dulls our perception. Good books help us to throw off narrowness and ignorance, and serve as powerful catalysts to provoke change within. In "Sounds," Thoreau turns from books to reality. He advises alertness to all that can be observed, coupled with an Oriental contemplation that allows assimilation of experience. As he describes what he hears and sees of nature through his window, his reverie is interrupted by the noise of the passing train. At first, he responds to the train — symbol of nineteenth century commerce and progress — with admiration for its almost mythical power. He then focuses on its inexorability and on the fact that as some things thrive, so others decline — the trees around the pond, for instance, which are cut and transported by train, or animals carried in the railroad cars. His comments on the railroad end on a note of disgust and dismissal, and he returns to his solitude and the sounds of the woods and the nearby community — church bells on Sundays, echoes, the call of the whippoorwill, the scream of the screech owl (indicative of the dark side of nature) and the cry of the hoot owl. The noise of the owls suggests a "vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized . . . the stark twilight and unsatisfied thoughts which all have." Sounds, in other words, express the reality of nature in its full complexity, and our longing to connect with it. He builds on his earlier image of himself as a crowing rooster through playful discussion of an imagined wild rooster in the woods, and closes the chapter with reference to the lack of domestic sounds at his Walden home. Nature, not the incidental noise of living, fills his senses.

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Thoreau opens "Solitude" with a lyrical expression of his pleasure in and sympathy with nature. When he returns to his house after walking in the evening, he finds that visitors have stopped by, which prompts him to comment both on his literal distance from others while at the pond and on the figurative space between men. There is intimacy in his connection with nature, which provides sufficient companionship and precludes the possibility of loneliness. The vastness of the universe puts the space between men in perspective. Thoreau points out that if we attain a greater closeness to nature and the divine, we will not require physical proximity to others in the "depot, the post-office, the bar-room, the meetinghouse, the school-house" — places that offer the kind of company that distracts and dissipates. He comments on man's dual nature as a physical entity and as an intellectual spectator within his own body, which separates a person from himself and adds further perspective to his distance from others. Moreover, a man is always alone when thinking and working. He concludes the chapter by referring to metaphorical visitors who represent God and nature, to his own oneness with nature, and to the health and vitality that nature imparts. Thoreau asserts in "Visitors" that he is no hermit and that he enjoys the society of worthwhile people as much as any man does. He comments on the difficulty of maintaining sufficient space between himself and others to discuss significant subjects, and suggests that meaningful intimacy — intellectual communion — allows and requires silence (the opportunity to ponder and absorb what has been said) and distance (a suspension of interest in temporal and trivial personal matters). True companionship has nothing to do with the trappings of conventional hospitality. He writes at length of one of his favorite visitors, a French Canadian woodchopper, a simple, natural, direct man, skillful, quiet, solitary, humble, and contented, possessed of a well-developed animal nature but a spiritual nature only rudimentary, at best. As much as Thoreau appreciates the woodchopper's character and perceives that he has some ability to think for himself, he recognizes that the man accepts the human situation as it is and has no desire to improve himself. Thoreau mentions other visitors — half-wits, runaway slaves, and those who do not recognize when they have worn out their welcome. Visiting girls, boys, and young women seem able to respond to nature, whereas men of business, farmers, and others cannot leave their preoccupations behind. Reformers — "the greatest bores of all" — are most unwelcome guests, but Thoreau enjoys the company of children, railroad men taking a holiday, fishermen, poets, philosophers — all of whom can leave the village temporarily behind and immerse themselves in the woods. In "The Bean-Field," Thoreau describes his experience of farming while living at Walden. His beanfield offers reality in the forms of physical labor and closeness to nature. He writes of turning up Indian arrowheads as he hoes and plants, suggesting that his use of the land is only one phase in the history of man's relation to the natural world. His bean-field is real enough, but it also metaphorically represents the field of inner self that must be carefully tended to produce a crop. Thoreau comments on the position of his bean-field between the wild and the cultivated — a position not unlike that which he himself occupies at the pond. He recalls the sights and sounds encountered while hoeing, focusing on the noise of town celebrations and military training, and cannot resist satirically underscoring the vainglory of the participants. He notes that he tends his beans while his contemporaries study art in Boston and Rome, or engage in contemplation and trade in faraway places, but in no way suggests that his efforts are inferior. Thoreau has no interest in beans per se, but rather in their symbolic meaning, which he as a writer will later be able to draw upon. He vows that in the future he will not sow beans but rather the seeds of "sincerity, truth, simplicity, faith, innocence, and the like." He expands upon seed imagery in referring to planting the seeds of new men. Lamenting a decline in farming from ancient times, he points out that agriculture is now a commercial enterprise, that the farmer has lost his integral relationship with nature. The true husbandman will cease to worry about the size of the crop and the gain to be had from it and will pay attention only to the work that is particularly his in making the land fruitful. Page 30

Thoreau begins "The Village" by remarking that he visits town every day or two to catch up on the news and to observe the villagers in their habitat as he does birds and squirrels in nature. But the town, full of idle curiosity and materialism, threatens independence and simplicity of life. He resists the shops on Concord's Mill Dam and makes his escape from the beckoning houses, and returns to the woods. He writes of going back to Walden at night and discusses the value of occasionally becoming lost in the dark or in a snowstorm. Sometimes a person lost is so disoriented that he begins to appreciate nature anew. Fresh perception of the familiar offers a different perspective, allowing us "to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations." He refers to his overnight jailing in 1846 for refusal to pay his poll tax in protest against slavery and the Mexican War, and comments on the insistent intrusion of institutions upon men's lives. Turning from his experience in town, Thoreau refers in the opening of "The Ponds" to his occasional ramblings "farther westward . . . into yet more unfrequented parts of the town." Throughout his writings, the west represents the unexplored in the wild and in the inner regions of man. In Walden, these regions are explored by the author through the pond. He writes of fishing on the pond by moonlight, his mind wandering into philosophical and universal realms, and of feeling the jerk of a fish on his line, which links him again to the reality of nature. He thus presents concrete reality and the spiritual element as opposing forces. He goes on to suggest that through his life at the pond, he has found a means of reconciling these forces. Walden is presented in a variety of metaphorical ways in this chapter. Believed by many to be bottomless, it is emblematic of the mystery of the universe. As the "earth's eye," through which the "beholder measures the depth of his own nature," it reflects aspects of the narrator himself. As "a perfect forest mirror" on a September or October day, Walden is a "field of water" that "betrays the spirit that is in the air . . . continually receiving new life and motion from above" — a direct conduit between the divine and the beholder, embodying the workings of God and stimulating the narrator's receptivity and faculties. Walden is ancient, having existed perhaps from before the fall of man in the Garden of Eden. At the same time, it is perennially young. It possesses and imparts innocence. Its waters, remarkably transparent and pure, serve as a catalyst to revelation, understanding, and vision. Thoreau refers to talk of piping water from Walden into town and to the fact that the railroad and woodcutters have affected the surrounding area. And yet, the pond is eternal. It endures despite all of man's activities on and around it. In this chapter, Thoreau also writes of the other bodies of water that form his "lake country" (an indirect reference to English Romantic poets Coleridge and Wordsworth) — Goose Pond, Flint's Pond, Fair Haven Bay on the Sudbury River, and White Pond (Walden's "lesser twin"). He concludes "The Ponds" reproachfully, commenting that man does not sufficiently appreciate nature. Like Walden, she flourishes alone, away from the towns of men. In "Baker Farm," Thoreau presents a study in contrasts between himself and John Field, a man unable to rise above his animal nature and material values. The chapter begins with lush natural detail. A worshipper of nature absorbed in reverie and aglow with perception, Thoreau visits pine groves reminiscent of ancient temples. He calls upon particular familiar trees. He describes once standing "in the very abutment of a rainbow's arch," bathed briefly and joyfully in a lake of light, "like a dolphin." The scene changes when, to escape a rain shower, he visits the squalid home of Irishman John Field. Field came to America to advance his material condition. The meanness of his life is compounded by his belief in the necessity of coffee, tea, butter, milk, and beef — all luxuries to Thoreau. Thoreau talks to Field as if he were a philosopher, urging him to simplify, but his words fall on uncomprehending ears. Exultant in his own joy in nature and aspiration toward meaning and understanding, Thoreau runs "down the hill toward the reddening west, with the rainbow over my shoulder," the "Good Genius" within urging him to "fish and hunt far and wide day by day," to remember God, to grow wild, to shun trade, to enjoy the land but not own it. The last paragraph is about John Field, by comparison with Thoreau "a poor man, born to be poor . . . not to rise in this world" — a man impoverished spiritually as well as materially. Page 31

In "Higher Laws," Thoreau deals with the conflict between two instincts that coexist side by side within himself — the hunger for wildness (expressed in his desire to seize and devour a woodchuck raw) and the drive toward a higher spiritual life. In discussing hunting and fishing (occupations that foster involvement with nature and that constitute the closest connection that many have with the woods), he suggests that all men are hunters and fishermen at a certain stage of development. Although most don't advance beyond this stage, if a man has the "seeds of better life in him," he may evolve to understanding nature as a poet or naturalist and may ultimately comprehend higher truth. Thoreau says that he himself has lost the desire to fish, but admits that if he lived in the wilderness, he would be tempted to take up hunting and fishing again. A man can't deny either his animal or his spiritual side. In discussing vegetarian diet and moderation in eating, sobriety, and chastity, he advocates both accepting and subordinating the physical appetites, but not disregarding them. The chapter concludes with reference to a generic John Farmer who, sitting at his door one September evening, despite himself is gradually induced to put aside his mundane thoughts and to consider practicing "some new austerity, to let his mind descend into his body and redeem it, and treat himself with ever increasing respect." Continuing the theme developed in "Higher Laws," "Brute Neighbors" opens with a dialogue between Hermit and Poet, who epitomize polarized aspects of the author himself (animal nature and the yearning to transcend it). Through the rest of the chapter, he focuses his thoughts on the varieties of animal life — mice, phoebes, raccoons, woodchucks, turtle doves, red squirrels, ants, loons, and others — that parade before him at Walden. He provides context for his observations by posing the question of why man has "just these species of animals for his neighbors." He answers that they are "all beasts of burden, in a sense, made to carry some portion of our thoughts," thus imparting these animals with symbolic meaning as representations of something broader and higher. Several animals (the partridge and the "winged cat") are developed in such a way as to suggest a synthesis of animal and spiritual qualities. Thoreau devotes pages to describing a mock-heroic battle of ants, compared to the Concord Fight of 1775 and presented in straightforward annalistic style as having taken place "in the Presidency of Polk, five years before the passage of Webster's Fugitive-Slave Bill." He thus ironically undercuts the significance of human history and politics. The battle of the ants is every bit as dramatic as any human saga, and there is no reason that we should perceive it as less meaningful than events on the human stage. The image of the loon is also developed at length. Diving into the depths of the pond, the loon suggests the seeker of spiritual truth. It also represents the dark, mysterious aspect of nature. Thoreau thus uses the animal world to present the unity of animal and human life and to emphasize nature's complexity. The narrative moves decisively into fall in the chapter "House-Warming." Thoreau praises the ground-nut, an indigenous and almost exterminated plant, which yet may demonstrate the vigor of the wild by outlasting cultivated crops. He describes the turning of the leaves, the movement of wasps into his house, and the building of his chimney. Described as an "independent structure, standing on the ground and rising through the house to the heavens," the chimney clearly represents the author himself, grounded in this world but striving for universal truth. The pond cools and begins to freeze, and Thoreau withdraws both into his house, which he has plastered, and into his soul as well. He continues his spiritual quest indoors, and dreams of a more metaphorical house, cavernous, open to the heavens, requiring no housekeeping. He regrets the superficiality of hospitality as we know it, which does not permit real communion between host and guest. He writes of gathering wood for fuel, of his woodpile, and of the moles in his cellar, enjoying the perpetual summer maintained inside even in the middle of winter. Winter makes Thoreau lethargic, but the atmosphere of the house revives him and prolongs his spiritual life through the season. He is now prepared for physical and spiritual winter. Thoreau begins "Former Inhabitants; and Winter Visitors" by recalling cheerful winter evenings spent by the fireside. But winter is quiet — even the owl is hushed — and his thoughts turn to past Page 32

inhabitants of the Walden Woods. He writes of Cato Ingraham (a former slave), the black woman Zilpha (who led a "hard and inhumane" life), Brister Freeman (another slave) and his wife Fenda (a fortune-teller), the Stratton and Breed families, Wyman (a potter), and Hugh Quoil — all people on the margin of society, whose social isolation matches the isolation of their life near the pond. Thoreau ponders why Walden's "small village, germ of something more" failed, while Concord thrives, and comments on how little the former inhabitants have affected the landscape. The past failed to realize the promise of Walden, but perhaps Thoreau himself will do so. He observes that nobody has previously built on the spot he now occupies — that is, he does not labor under the burden of the past. He has few visitors in winter, but no lack of society nevertheless. He still goes into town (where he visits Emerson, who is referred to but not mentioned by name), and receives a few welcome visitors (none of them named specifically) — a "long-headed farmer" (Edmund Hosmer), a poet (Ellery Channing), and a philosopher (Bronson Alcott). He waits for the mysterious "Visitor who never comes." Thoreau again takes up the subject of fresh perspective on the familiar in "Winter Animals." He examines the landscape from frozen Flint's Pond, and comments on how wide and strange it appears. He writes of winter sounds — of the hoot owl, of ice on the pond, of the ground cracking, of wild animals, of a hunter and his hounds. He describes a pathetic, trembling hare that shows surprising energy as it leaps away, demonstrating the "vigor and dignity of Nature." At the beginning of "The Pond in Winter," Thoreau awakens with a vague impression that he has been asked a question that he has been trying unsuccessfully to answer. But he looks out upon nature, itself "an answered question," and into the daylight, and his anxiety is quelled. The darkness and dormancy of winter may slow down spiritual processes, but the dawn of each day provides a new beginning. In search of water, Thoreau takes an axe to the pond's frozen surface and, looking into the window he cuts in the ice, sees life below despite its apparent absence from above. The workings of God in nature are present even where we don't expect them. He writes of the fishermen who come to the pond, simple men, but wiser than they know, wild, who pay little attention to society's dictates and whims. He describes surveying the bottom of Walden in 1846, and is able to assure his reader that Walden is, in fact, not bottomless. There is a need for mystery, however, and as long as there are believers in the infinite, some ponds will be bottomless. In probing the depths of bodies of water, imagination dives down deeper than nature's reality. Thoreau expresses the Transcendental notion that if we knew all the laws of nature, one natural fact or phenomenon would allow us to infer the whole. But our knowledge of nature's laws is imperfect. He extrapolates from the pond to humankind, suggesting the scientific calculation of a man's height or depth of character from his exterior and his circumstances. The pond and the individual are both microcosms. Thoreau describes commercial ice-cutting at Walden Pond. Despite what might at first seem a violation of the pond's integrity, Walden is unchanged and unharmed. Moreover, ice from the pond is shipped far and wide, even to India, where others thus drink from Thoreau's spiritual well. Walden water mixes with Ganges water, while Thoreau bathes his intellect "in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the Bhagvat Geeta" — no doubt an even exchange, in Thoreau's mind. "Spring" brings the breaking up of the ice on Walden Pond and a celebration of the rebirth of both nature and the spirit. Thoreau again presents the pond as a microcosm, remarking, "The phenomena of the year take place every day in a pond on a small scale." He revels in listening and watching for evidence of spring, and describes in great detail the "sand foliage" (patterns made by thawing sand and clay flowing down a bank of earth in the railroad cut near Walden), an early sign of spring that presages the verdant foliage to come. In its similarity to real foliage, the sand foliage demonstrates that nothing is inorganic, and that the earth is not an artifact of dead history. It is, rather, living poetry, compared with which human art and institutions are insignificant. The chapter is rich with expressions of vitality, expansion, exhilaration, and joy. Thoreau focuses on the details of nature that mark the awakening of spring. He asks what meaning Page 33

chronologies, traditions, and written revelations have at such a time. Rebirth after death suggests immortality. Walden has seemingly died, and yet now, in the spring, reasserts its vigor and endurance. The narrator, too, is reinvigorated, becomes "elastic" again. A man's thoughts improve in spring, and his ability to forgive and forget the shortcomings of his fellows — to start afresh — increases. Thoreau states the need for the "tonic of wildness," noting that life would stagnate without it. He comments also on the duality of our need to explore and explain things and our simultaneous longing for the mysterious. Taking either approach, we can never have enough of nature — it is a source of strength and proof of a more lasting life beyond our limited human span. Thoreau refers to the passage of time, to the seasons "rolling on into summer," and abruptly ends the narrative. He compresses his entire second year at the pond into the halfsentence, "and the second year was similar to it." The last sentence records his departure from the pond on September 6, 1847. In his "Conclusion," Thoreau again exhorts his reader to begin a new, higher life. He points out that we restrict ourselves and our view of the universe by accepting externally imposed limits, and urges us to make life's journey deliberately, to look inward and to make the interior voyage of discovery. Evoking the great explorers Mungo Park, Lewis and Clark, Frobisher, and Columbus, he presents inner exploration as comparable to the exploration of the North American continent. Thoreau explains that he left the woods for the same reason that he went there, and that he must move on to new endeavors. There is danger even in a new enterprise of falling into a pattern of tradition and conformity. One must move forward optimistically toward his dream, leaving some things behind and gaining awareness of others. A man will replace his former thoughts and conventional common sense with a new, broader understanding, thereby putting a solid foundation under his aspirations. Thoreau expresses unqualified confidence that man's dreams are achievable, and that his experiment at Walden successfully demonstrates this. The experience and truth to which a man attains cannot be adequately conveyed in ordinary language, must be "translated" through a more expressive, suggestive, figurative language. Thoreau entreats his readers to accept and make the most of what we are, to "mind our business," not somebody else's idea of what our business should be. He presents the parable of the artist of Kouroo, who strove for perfection and whose singleness of purpose endowed him with perennial youth. Transcending time and the decay of civilization, the artist endures, creates true art, and achieves perfection. This parable demonstrates the endurance of truth. Thoreau again urges us to face life as it is, to reject materialism, to embrace simplicity, serenely to cultivate self, and to understand the difference between the temporal and the permanent. He ends Walden with an affirmation of resurrection and immortality through the quest for higher truth. One last time, he uses the morning imagery that throughout the book signifies new beginnings and heightened perception: "Only that day dawns to which we are awake. There is more day to dawn. The sun is but a morning star." Short Summary In his first chapter, "Economy," Thoreau introduces his purpose in writing the book, saying he intends to answer questions people have asked about his reasons for living alone in a cabin in the woods near Walden Pond for two years. He explains that most people live their lives as if sleeping, blindly following the ways of their parents, and become trapped into these lives by owning property and slaving in jobs to maintain their way of life. In contrast, he sought to discover the true necessities of life and built a cabin, for the cost of $28. 12 _ near Walden Pond, where he lived for two years, beginning in the summer of 1845. Making a profit of $8.71 _ by selling the beans he grew and working occasionally at odd jobs, he found he was able to support himself with very little work and much time for contemplation of himself and nature. Thoreau, in the second chapter, "Where I Lived, and What I Lived For," talks about how he once considered buying the Hollowell farm for himself but the purchase fell through. Instead, he created a new existence for himself at Walden, where he found joy and fulfillment in nature, truly awakening in his Page 34

mornings there, while most of society remains perpetually asleep, living mean lives when the possibility of a much better life is possible. The key to achieving such a life, he says, is simplicity. In the third chapter, "Reading," Thoreau describes how he derives enlightenment from reading Homer and other great writers, men who spoke of the truth and speak of life in terms too noble for most to understand. Most of society, however, is not content to strive after such truths and instead wastes their time reading popular fiction and newspapers, when they should instead be dedicated to improving the intellectual culture, making the village of Concord become a university. However, as Thoreau relates in the fourth chapter, "Sounds," he spent his time during his first summer at Walden hoeing beans, rather than reading, or sitting all morning watching and listening to the birds. That reverie is broken by the whistle and rumble of the passing train, which reminds Thoreau of the destruction of nature and country life by progress and industrialization. In the evening, the hoots of the owls make him melancholy, reminding him of human cries of sorrow. In the fifth chapter, "Solitude," Thoreau feels so much a part of nature that he scoffs at the suggestion of one of his townsmen that he might be lonely at Walden. Instead, he relates his distaste at village life, where people see too much of each other, so that human interaction becomes trivial. In the sixth chapter, "Visitors," Thoreau is pleased that those who would bother him with trivial matters don't visit him at Walden. Instead, his visitors are Canadian woodcutter, whose straightforward thinking and love of life please Thoreau. Other visitors include half-wits from the almshouse, who Thoreau thinks are more intellectual than most overseers, and men of business, who no longer really enjoy nature. The happiest people to visit the pond are children and young women. In chapter seven, "The Bean-field," Thoreau describes how he hoed and tended two acres of beans, some of which he sold, for a profit of $8.71 _. Though passing farmers criticized him for not using a plow or fertilizer, having to work so long and hard made him grow close to the soil, truly enjoying his work rather than seeing it as a means of profit, like most farmers. The eighth chapter, "The Village," recounts Thoreau's discomfort in visiting town every few days, where people's stares and thirst for gossip are invasive and where the attractions of pubs, stores, and shops are a temptation. He is always relieved to return home to his cabin but worries that society will seek one out wherever he goes. One day, he went to the village to go to the cobbler and was arrested for not paying taxes to a government which supports slavery. He spent a night in jail. (The experience would prompt Thoreau's essay "Civil Disobedience.") Living in the woods, Thoreau devotes his time to experiencing nature, as he describes in chapter nine, "The Ponds" - sometimes fishing with an elderly man who is hard-of-hearing and sometimes floating about in his boat playing his flute. He gives detailed descriptions of surrounding bodies of water - Flint's Pond, White Pond, Goose Pond, and Fair-Haven Bay - but finds Walden, with its pure clear water, to be the epitome of nature's offerings. In chapter ten, "Baker Farm," Thoreau describes a visit to go fishing at Baker Farm. When caught in a rain shower, he takes refuge in the hut of Irish "bogger" John Field and his family. Though he tries to convince Field that a simpler, easier life could be attained with far less work, Field cannot conceive of such a possibility. When the rain stops, he even does extra work to catch fewer fish than Thoreau. In the book's eleventh chapter, "Higher Laws," Thoreau describes a feeling of animality that occasionally comes across him, making him want to devour a woodchuck raw. He sees in himself duelling impulses, to animality and to spirituality, and seeks to strengthen his spiritual self, refraining from hunting or eating meat. He hopes that boys who hunt will grow to be men who appreciate nature on spiritual level. Chapter twelve, "Brute Neighbors," opens with a dialogue between Hermit, who represents Thoreau's contemplative nature, and Poet, who tempts him to abandon his meditations and fish instead. He goes on to describe his animal neighbors, including friendly mice and partridges, as well as a war he witnessed between red and black ants and a loon who he followed around the pond in his boat but could never catch.

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Chapter thirteen, "House-warming," begins Thoreau's description of the winter months. As the weather grows colder in October and November, he builds a chimney and plasters the inside of his walls. When the pond freezes, he studies the bottom of the lake and the formation of ice bubbles within the ice itself. In the fourteenth chapter, "Former Inhabitants; and Winter Visitors," nature is all but silent and snow prevents Thoreau from venturing out much. He instead reflects on the former inhabitants of the woods, including former slaves, Cato Ingraham, Zilpha, and Brister and Fenda Freeman, and an Irishman Hugh Quoil. Only a few remnants of their houses - chimney stones and covered wells - remain. Sometimes Thoreau ventures out for walks, once seeing a seemingly-inactive owl who suddenly flies away, and returns home to find visitors, including a farmer, a poet, and a peddlar-philosopher. In chapter fifteen, "Winter Animals," Thoreau describes looking at the transformed landscape from the centers of lakes and seeing it in a new light and hearing animals, including owls and foxes chased by hounds. One day, he sees a rabbit which looks miserable to him until it leaps away, clearly a strong and worthy part of nature. In chapter sixteen, "The Pond in Winter," he awakens one morning after a night of questioning to realize that nature is serene and asks no questions. He cuts holes in the ice of Walden, measuring the depth of the pond, which some people have called bottomless. In January, Irish laborers working for a rich man arrive to cut and cart away the ice to sell. This upsets Thoreau, until he realizes people all over the world will have a taste of Walden. The lake soon refreezes. In chapter seventeen, "The Thaw," the lake gradually begins to crack and groan and break apart. Thoreau describes in great detail the sand which breaks through the snow and flows like foliage down the banks of the railroad. The birds begin to return and the trees become greener. Soon, summer comes, and after two years at Walden, Thoreau leaves. In his "Conclusion," Thoreau explains he left Walden because he had many more lives to live. He urges his readers to turn inward on immense spiritual journeys of self-discovery; to find fulfillment in nature rather than riches; and to avoid conformity and live his own life as he must. He concludes with the story of a bug which emerged from the wood of a table after sixty years and hopes that human beings will likewise awaken and emerge into a new life.

MOURNING BECOMES ELECTRA Eugene O‘Neill About the Playwright Eugene Gladstone O'Neill (October 16, 1888 – November 27, 1953) was an American playwright and Nobel laureate in Literature. His poetically titled plays were among the first to introduce into American drama techniques of realism earlier associated with Russian playwright Anton Chekhov, Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen, and Swedish playwright August Strindberg. The drama Long Day's Journey into Night is often numbered on the short list of the finest American plays in the 20th century, alongside Tennessee Williams's A Streetcar Named Desire and Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman. O'Neill's plays were among the first to include speeches in American vernacular and involve characters on the fringes of society. They struggle to maintain their hopes and aspirations, but ultimately slide into disillusionment and despair. Of his very few comedies, only one is well-known (Ah, Wilderness!).Nearly all of his other plays involve some degree of tragedy and personal pessimism. CHARACTERS Amos Ames A middle-aged carpenter, Amos and his wife Louisa form part of the chorus in Homecoming and The Haunted. Louisa Ames Louisa is the wife of Amos. She appears as part of the chorus of local people in Homecoming and has a taste for vicious gossip. Page 36

Doctor Joseph Blake Doctor Blake is a ―stout,‖ ―self-important‖ family physician, who, as part of the chorus in The Hunted, provides background on Ezra‘s medical condition. After relating Ezra‘s symptoms, Christine has convinced the doctor of the seriousness of her husband‘s heart condition. This helps Christine conceal the actual cause of Ezra‘s death—murder by poison. Josiah Borden A manager of the Mannon family‘s shipping company, Josh and his wife Emma appear as part of the chorus of town folk in The Hunted, providing insight into the backgrounds of Christine and the family. Captain Adam Brant Brant is the black sheep of the Mannon family; it is his quest for revenge that propels the play. When his father, David Mannon, is exiled from his family for marrying Marie Brantome, Brant‘s family falls into ruin. When he is old enough, he runs off to sea. When he returns, he discovers his father has drunk himself to death, and, shockingly, David‘s nephew, Ezra, refused to help Brant‘s poor, sick mother. After his mother‘s death, Adam vows revenge on the other Mannons. This desire for vengeance motivates his pursuit of Christine and ultimately drives the play‘s action. Chantyman The Chantyman chats with Brant near the ship in The Hunted and gives him information about Ezra. Brant gives him money to continue drinking, and the Chantyman leaves. Hazel Hazel is Peter Niles‘ sister and Orin‘s fiancee. She loves Orin and tries unsuccessfully to separate him from his sister Lavinia. Less naive than her brother Peter, Hazel sees the evil surrounding the Mannon family; her efforts to save Orin from that evil fail. Everett Hills Everett Hills is a Doctor of Divinity of the First Congregational Church and married to Mrs. Hills. Both appear as part of the chorus of local people in The Hunted. Mrs. Hills Mrs. Hills is married to Everett Hills, a Congregational minister. Both appear as part of the chorus of local people in The Hunted. Ira Mackel Ira is a member of the chorus of townsfolk in The Haunted. He is a whiskered farmer who walks with a cane. Believing the Mannon house to be haunted, he and others bet Abner Small ten dollars that he cannot spend the night there. Christine Mannon Christine is Ezra Mannon‘s wife and mother of Lavinia and Orin. She hates her husband and has an incestuous love for her son. While Ezra was away fighting in the Civil War, she began a passionate affair with Adam Brant. They plan to kill Ezra so they can be together. When Ezra returns from the war, he and Christine make love, but she does so in hopes that he will have a heart attack and die. When he realizes this, he does have a heart attack. When he demands his medicine, she gives him the poison. He realizes that she has poisoned him while he is dying. After Brant is murdered by Lavinia and Orin, Christine commits suicide. Brigadier-General Ezra Mannon Ezra is Christine‘s husband and father of Lavinia and Orin. He is the patriarch of the Mannon family. As the play opens, he returns from the Civil War. A hardhearted businessman, Ezra refuses to help his brother‘s Canadian-Indian wife Marie Brantome when she really needs it. As a result, she dies and her son, Adam Brant, vows revenge.

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Realizing the precarious nature of his marriage to Christine, he hopes to reconcile with her after he returns from the war. He is oblivious to her plans to murder him until they are making love—the realization that she wants to kill him causes him to have a heart attack. Christine gives him poison instead of medicine and he dies. Lavinia Mannon Lavinia is the daughter of Ezra and Christine Mannon and Orin‘s sister. She is meant to resemble the Electra figure in O‘Neill‘s retelling of the Orestia. She is a manipulative, evil woman. Although she is somewhat in love with Captain Brant, she convinces Orin to kill him. She then drives her mother Christine to suicide. The two siblings travel to the South Seas to escape their mutual guilt and Lavinia sleeps with a local man. Exploiting Orin‘s feelings of guilt over Brant‘s murder and their mother‘s suicide, she drives him to commit suicide too. Toward the end of the play, Lavinia almost believes it possible for her to be happy and escape the guilt of her past. Ultimately, she realizes that as the last Mannon, she has sinned and must punish herself. In the last scene, she orders the flowers removed from the house, the windows shut up, and closes herself inside, presumably never to exit alive. Lavinia presents a complex character, with strong and forbidden desires as well as powerful, if reprehensible, needs for revenge. In a sense, she seems trapped in a web of emotional and sexual desires for her father Ezra, her brother Orin, and her mother‘s lover Brant. Moreover, she acts without conscience until the end, when her conscience comes back to haunt her. Orin Mannon Orin is the youngest son of Ezra and Christine. A First Lieutenant of Infantry, he served in the Civil War under his father and is recognized as a courageous soldier. After getting wounded, he returns from the war overcome by the death and destruction. In love with his mother, Orin helps Lavinia murder her mother‘s lover, Brant. He does this to revenge the murder of his father; also, he is jealous of Brant‘s relationship with his mother. Orin is engaged to Hazel. She wants to take Orin away from Lavinia, perceiving the destructive and sick bond the two siblings have. Yet Orin will not allow this; he even suggests to Lavinia that they consummate their relationship as a way of binding themselves together in sin and guilt. Orin writes his confession and history of Mannon family sins, which he threatens to give to Peter if Lavinia leaves him. Orin‘s guilt and incestuous feelings lead to his destruction. He feels he has lost the love of his mother and of his sister. Eventually Orin breaks his engagement with Hazel and commits suicide, ―accidentally‖ killing himself while cleaning his gun. Minnie Part of the chorus of townsfolk in Homecoming, Minnie is Louisa‘s cousin. She is known as a gossip. Captain Peter Niles A member of the U.S. Artillery, Peter is Hazel‘s brother and Lavinia‘s boyfriend. He wants to marry her, but she keeps him at a distance. He becomes uneasy when she resists handing over Orin‘s confession. Finally, Lavinia shocks Peter by suggesting that they have sex prior to marriage. In an emotional fit of passion, she cries out to him—not his name, but that her mother‘s lover, Adam Brant. Horrified, Peter ends their engagement, condemns Lavinia, and storms off. Though not a bad person, Peter seems naive, unable to see Lavinia‘s dark, complex personality. Joe Silva Silva is a member of the chorus in The Haunted. A Portuguese fishing captain, he is one of those who bets Abner Small that he cannot stay overnight in the supposedly haunted Mannon house. They win the bet, though Abner refuses to pay. Page 38

Abner Small Abner forms part of the chorus of local people in The Haunted. He is the hardware store clerk who accepts the bet that he can spend the night in the supposedly haunted Mannon house. He runs out after a short time, refusing to pay the ten dollars he has lost. CHARACTERS MAP

PLOT SUMMARY Homecoming: Act I In a small New England seaport town a group that functions as a Greek chorus—Seth Beckwith, Amos Ames, Louisa, and Minnie—sit in front of the Mannon home. They explain that the patriarch of the family, Ezra Mannon, serves as a general in Grant‘s army. A wealthy man, he is expected to return soon to rejoin his wife, Christine, and his two children, Lavinia and Orin. As the scene progresses, Peter Niles asks Lavinia for her hand in marriage, which she refuses. Lavinia discloses that she followed her mother to New York, where she was carrying on an adulterous affair with Adam Brant. Seth, the family‘s elderly gardener, implies to Lavinia that Adam is David Mannon‘s son. The Mannon family disinherited David, Ezra‘s uncle, after he ran off with a French-Canadian nurse of humble origins, Marie Brantome. Adam‘s arrival upsets Lavinia; they talk about ―the Blessed Isles‖ of the South Pacific, which he has visited and describes as an early paradise. Lavinia tells Adam she knows the secret of his parentage. Adam informs Lavinia that he intends to take revenge on Ezra, who refused to help Adam‘s poor, sick mother when she was dying. Homecoming: Act II Talking in Ezra‘s study, Christine admits that she feels incapable of loving her daughter Lavinia, because she reminds her of her disastrous honeymoon and poor sexual relations with her husband. Christine states that she prefers her son Orin, because she was pregnant with him while Ezra was away fighting in the Mexican War. Lavinia confronts her mother about her affair with Captain Brant. Christine agrees to stop seeing him. When Adam arrives, Christine tells him what has occurred and encourages him to get her some poison: she will kill her husband. She has already told others that Ezra has a weak heart, and she plans to poison him and claim that he had a heart attack. Page 39

Homecoming: Act III One week later, Ezra returns home from the Civil War. He is obviously weak and dispirited from his war experiences. He tells his wife that he wants to try to start again and improve their marriage. She pretends to agree. Homecoming: Act IV The next morning Ezra and Christine make love. He suddenly realizes that she made love with him because she hoped he would have a heart attack and die. Christine tells Ezra the truth about her affair with Adam and his parentage. Ezra has a heart attack. Instead of giving him his medicine, Christine gives him the poison. Lavinia enters as Ezra gasps his dying words: ―She‘s guilty—not medicine.‖ The Hunted: Act I The second play in the trilogy opens outside the Mannon house two days after Ezra‘s death. Again, a group of five local people form a chorus, gossiping about what has occurred and repeating rumors. Orin returns from the war. Lavinia is jealous over her mother‘s preferential treatment of Orin. Christine, who despised her husband and loves her son Orin, hates Lavinia; she blames Lavinia for convincing Orin to go off to war. The Hunted: Act II Ezra‘s body is laid out in the study. Lavinia tries to convince Orin that Christine murdered their father and shows her brother the box of poison. Orin refuses to believe her, though he takes the poison from her and hides the evidence. He does not seem to care that his mother has murdered her father—in his perverted mind, he considers it a chance to have a sexual relationship with his mother. However, when Lavinia informs him of Christine‘s affair with Adam, Orin becomes jealous and threatens to kill him. Lavinia takes the poison back from Orin and places it on her father‘s body. Christine sees the poison and begs Lavinia not to tell Orin. The Hunted: Act III Lavinia enters and Orin tells her about his heroic deeds during the war. She tries to convince him that Christine murdered Ezra, but he will not believe until her until she reveals that their mother did so to cement her relationship with her lover, Adam Brant. The Hunted: Act IV At night on a clipper ship at an East Boston wharf, Adam Brant has a discussion with the Chantyman. The Chantyman reports that Lincoln and Mannon are dead. He states that though reports Indicate Ezra died of heart attack, he knows from working for him that he was too cheap to have a heart. Brant gives him money to continue drinking and the Chantyman leaves. Christine arrives to tell Adam about Ezra‘s death. Lavinia and Orin spy on them, and when Orin sees his mother embrace Adam and overhears her declarations of love he resolves to kill him. After Christine leaves, Orin shoots Adam. Then Orin and Lavinia mess up the cabin to make it seem as though Adam was killed in a burglary. The Hunted: Act V The next night, Hazel comforts Christine, who is secretly worried about Adam. Hazel leaves and Orin arrives, telling Christine he has murdered her lover. Orin wants to run away with his mother. Christine goes inside and kills herself. The Haunted: Act I, Scene One One year later, a chorus of local residents discusses the rumors that the Mannon house is now haunted. Lavinia and Orin enter; she looks like her mother Christine, while he resembles his father Ezra. Lavinia claims that the dead have ―forgotten‖ them.

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The Haunted: Act I, Scene Two Inside the Mannon house, Lavinia and Orin discuss their recent trip to the ―blessed isles,‖ where Lavinia hoped to free Orin of his feelings of guilt for Christine‘s death. It becomes clear that while on vacation Lavinia had a sexual experience with an island man. She claims to love Peter and expresses hope that they will be married. She asks Peter and Hazel to help console Orin, and ―make allowances for any crazy thing he might say.‖ The Haunted: Act II Alone in Ezra‘s study, Orin writes a letter describing the many sins of the Mannon family. When Lavinia enters, he criticizes her for not trusting him. Lavinia admits to her sexual relationship with Avahanni, one of the islanders; faced with Orin‘s jealousy, she then denies it. Orin fears losing Lavinia to Peter; furthermore, he is afraid that Lavinia will kill Orin to marry Peter. Orin promises to give Peter the confession letter if Lavinia goes through with the wedding or if Orin should die. The Haunted: Act III Peter and Hazel discuss their concerns about Orin with Lavinia: his behavior is increasingly erratic. Orin gives Hazel the confession, telling her that Lavinia must never marry and be happy, for ―She‘s got to be punished!‖ When Lavinia realizes that Hazel has read the confession, Lavinia agrees to ―do anything‖ if she will return it to Orin. Orin retrieves the manuscript. When the others leave, he makes Lavinia call off her marriage with Peter and insinuates that they should commit incest as a way to bind themselves to each other. Lavinia refuses, crying out, ―You‘re too vile to live! You‘d kill yourself if you weren‘t a coward!‖ Orin goes off to clean his pistol as Peter arrives. Peter wants to take the gun from Orin, worrying about letting him clean a weapon in his confused mental state. Lavinia insists on discussing their upcoming marriage. As they hear a pistol shot, she hides Orin‘s confession manuscript. The Haunted: Act IV Three days later, Seth sings as Lavinia picks flowers in front of the Mannon house. Hazel arrives and accuses Lavinia of driving her brother to commit suicide. Hazel begs Lavinia to break off her engagement with Peter, or at least let him read what Orin had written. Lavinia refuses. When Peter arrives, she begs him to make love with her immediately. She asks him to want her so badly he would kill to have her, because that is what she‘s done, telling him, ―I did that—for you!‖ Then, she calls out, ―Want me! Take me, Adam!‖ Shocked, Peter calls off the wedding. He demands to read Orin‘s confession. Lavinia admits that she and the islander had sex, that she was his ―fancy woman.‖ Peter leaves her for good. Lavinia, as ―the last Mannon,‖ decides that she must punish herself. She orders the shutters on the windows nailed up to keep out the light. As the play ends, Seth pulls the window shutters closed as Lavinia walks into the house, closing the door behind her.

NIGHT, MOTHER Morsha Norman About the Playwright Marsha Norman (born September 21, 1947) is an American playwright, screenwriter, and novelist. She received the 1983 Pulitzer Prize for Drama for her play 'night, Mother. She wrote the book and lyrics for such Broadway musicals as The Secret Garden, for which she won a Tony Award and the Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Book of a Musical, and The Red Shoes, as well as the libretto for the musical The Color Purple and the book for the musical The Bridges of Madison County. She is co-chair of the playwriting department at The Juilliard School

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Characters Jessie Cates Jessie is the portrait of a suicidal woman on the verge of middle age. Somewhere in her late 30‘s or early 40‘s, Jessie is divorced from the man she loves, but didn‘t love enough to give up the smoking that was an essential element in his wanting her to leave. She is pale, overweight, epileptic and charged with being the sole caretaker of her strong-minded mother. She can‘t hold a job, barely leaves the house and is mother to a son on the verge of becoming a rebel without a cause. ‗night, Mother plays out in real time the final hour and a half of Jessie‘s life before she ultimately does goes through a shocking act of suicide. Thelma Cates Nearly 60, Thelma is a woman with the kind of mind that views things as being only as she sees them. Until the last few hours of Jessie‘s life, nobody has really confronted Thelma over this aspect of her life. During the final 90 minutes with her daughter, Thelma is forced to admit many things that she never thought Jessie would ever find out, including the fact that her daughter‘s epilepsy was inherited and not caused by an accident. Even worse is the revelation she is forced to make about the last minutes in the life of Jessie‘s father. Naturally loquacious, her aim throughout the evening is to distract her daughter from going through with her horrific plan for self-destruction through the process of a continual conversation that carries them from one subject to the next. Dawson Dawson is Jessie‘s brother and like the rest of the other characters, he is only mentioned and never actually appears on stage. Jessie is rigidly against her brother showing up before she goes through with the suicide for a very unusual reason: she thinks he‘ll make her feel bad for not having killed herself long ago. Cecil Jessie‘s ex-husband who gave her a choice: quit smoking or lose him. She chose smoking and lost him. Ricky Jessie's boy. She does not know where he is and the implication is that he is living the life of a delinquent. Plot Summary ‗Night, Mother takes place in the living room and kitchen in the rural home of mother Thelma Cates and her daughter, Jessie. The play follows real time as displayed on a clock on stage. The hour and a half length of the play matches exactly the hour and a half of dialogue and action between Thelma‘s opening lines and her final call to Jessie‘s brother to inform him of his sister‘s death. ‗Night, Mother opens with Jessie Cates asking her mother for a piece of plastic sheeting and for the location of her father‘s gun. After Jessie finds the gun hidden away in an old shoe box in the attic, she begins cleaning the weapon. As she does, she calmly tells her mother that it is her intention to commit suicide later that evening. She accompanies this announcement with a stream of idle chatter that describes the ease with which she has purchased the ammunition and even had it delivered to their rural home. Thelma, is at first disbelieving. When she realizes that Jessie is serious, she attempts to dissuade her. Taking little note of her mother‘s arguments, Jessie continues with her preparations for death. She cleans the refrigerator and instructs her mother on how to order groceries, how to use the washer and dryer, and when to put out the garbage. She tells Thelma that she has stopped delivery of the Daily paper, ordered her favorite candy for her, and arranged to continue the delivery of milk— although her mother prefers soda or orangeade. Jessie has even prepared a Christmas list of gift suggestions for her brother for the next several years. To keep her mother busy and to create a semblance of order, Jessie asks her to make some hot chocolate for them—yet neither women drinks it because neither likes milk. The purpose in making die Page 42

chocolate, clearly, was to distract her mother from the announcement Jessie has just made. While these activities are going on, Jessie keeps up a flow of gossip about her mother‘s friends and her family. This gossip reveals to die audience that Jessie is in her thirties, divorced, unemployed, and that she hates her life. It also reveals that her mother‘s closest friend will no longer visit her because Jessie‘s presence makes her uncomfortable. The dialogue paints a picture of a mother who has assumed an air of helplessness so mat she can provide a purpose in life for her daughter. She can do the little things that Jessie does for her, obtaining her prescibtions and shopping, yet she allows her daughter to assume these chores. Jessie sees herself as having no future. She is an epileptic who only leaves their rural house to go to the hospital after a seizure. She is divorced from a man she still loves, but the audience learns that when given the ultimatum of either continuing her smoking habit or quitting and staying with her husband, Jessie chose smoking. We learn from Thelma, however, that the husband, Cecil, was unfaithful, having had an affair with a neighbor‘s daughter. Jessie‘s son, Ricky, is a thief and a drug addict, and while Jessie‘s mother thinks the boy will outgrow these tendencies, Jessie sees little hope. That lack of hope is the crux of this one act play. Jessie tells her mother that she is committing suicide because she sees no point in continuing with a life as empty as hers has become. She can visualize only another fifty years of the same emptiness and can see no point in continuing. Jessie uses the metaphor of a bus trip to describe the reason for killing herself. She states that it does not matter if you are fifty blocks from your stop when you get off because for her the stop will be the same right now as it will be in those fifty blocks/fifty years. Jessie‘s is a life that, from her perspective, holds no promise and no future. Jessie‘s mother, Thelma, divulges family secrets in her attempt to stop Jessie‘s planned suicide. She tells Jessie that her seizures are not the result of a fall from a horse but that she has had them from early childhood. Thelma also tells her daughter that the epilepsy is inherited and that her father also suffered from the disease. As Thelma reveals how empty her marriage was, the audience learns of Thelma‘s jealousy of her daughter‘s close relationship with her father. As her husband lay dying, Thelma left him to watch the western series Gunsmoke on television, since he refused to talk to her. Yet she asks Jessie what she and her father said to one another in those last moments just before he died. Thelma refused to share her husband‘s last minutes and cannot understand why her daughter did not make the same choice. Their interaction makes clear that Thelma and Jessie love one another, but, to Jessie, her mother‘s love is not reason enough to continue living. Thelma pleads with Jessie; she cajoles her with stories, and offers to change their lives. The desperation of the mother is clear, as is her love for her daughter. In the last moments of the play, a desperate Thelma clings to her impassive daughter and is pushed aside as Jessie leaves the room with the muted farewell ―‗night, Mother.‖ She goes and locks herself in her room. The play ends with the sound of a gunshot followed by Thelma‘s grief-stricken call to her son.

THE BLUEST EYE Toni Morrison About the Author Toni Morrison (born Chloe Ardelia Wofford; February 18, 1931) is an American novelist, essayist, editor, teacher, and professor emeritus at Princeton University. Morrison won the Pulitzer Prize and the American Book Award in 1988 for Beloved. The novel was adapted into a film of the same name (starring Oprah Winfrey and Danny Glover) in 1998. Morrison was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1993. In 1996, the National Endowment for the Humanities selected her for the Jefferson Lecture, the U.S. federal government's highest honor for achievement in the humanities. She was honored with the 1996 National Book Foundation's Medal of Distinguished Contribution to American Letters. Morrison wrote the libretto for a new opera, Margaret Garner, first performed in 2005. On May 29, 2012, President Barack Obama presented Morrison with the Presidential Medal of Freedom. In 2016 she received the PEN/Saul Bellow Award for Achievement in American Fiction. Page 43

Characters Pecola Breedlove For the most part, Pecola is a passive, plain young black girl about eleven years old, who is befriended by Claudia and Frieda MacTeer after county officials place her temporarily in their home. During the novel, she suffers the bewildering onset of puberty, bitter racial harassment, and the tragedy of rape and incest. Claudia MacTeer One of the novel's narrators; Claudia's childhood memories begin each of the chapters titled Autumn, Winter, Spring, and Summer. Claudia is about nine years old when the events of the novel take place. Frieda MacTeer Claudia's older sister, about ten years old. Frieda and Claudia share a childhood friendship with Pecola Breedlove. Mrs. MacTeer Claudia and Frieda's mother. Pauline Breedlove When she was two years old, she stepped on a rusty nail and afterward walked with a characteristic limp. She is a diligent housekeeper for a wealthy white family and the primary breadwinner for the Breedlove family. She has two children by Cholly Breedlove: Sammy and Pecola. Cholly Breedlove When he was four days old, Cholly's mother wrapped him in newspapers and blankets and threw him on a junk heap; his father had already deserted the family. Cholly was raised by his great aunt, called Aunt Jimmy. As an adult, Cholly is frequently drunk, and he is abusive to his wife and children. Sammy Breedlove Sammy is the son of Pauline and Cholly Breedlove and the brother of Pecola. Marie, China, and Poland Three prostitutes who live in the apartment above the Breedloves; they fascinate Frieda and Claudia, and they befriend Pecola. Geraldine A socially conscious, middle-class black woman, Geraldine shows little affection for her son, Louis Junior, but she has enormous adoration for her blue-eyed black cat. Louis Junior Geraldine's only child is unloved and deeply troubled; he bullies and torments Pecola. Elihue Micah Whitcomb (Soaphead Church) A self-styled spiritualist, "Reader, Advisor, and Interpreter of Dreams," Soaphead's mixed blood keeps him free from the label of being black, although his racial and sexual ambiguities confine him to a life of no identity. Pecola consults him in her quest for blue eyes. Aunt Jimmy A kind, generous, earthy woman, she rescues and raises Cholly Breedlove. Oftentimes in the South, an aunt is referred to by her husband's name — for example, Aunt Ed or Aunt Earl; it's possible that Cholly's great aunt was once married to a man named Jimmy. Blue Jack Blue befriends a young and impressionable Cholly; because of his storytelling and gentle ways, he becomes a father figure whom Cholly remembers all his life. Della Jones Mr. Henry's former landlady; after she suffers a stroke, she seems confused most of the time.

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Peggy A woman from Elyria who is romantically involved with Della Jones' husband. Old Slack Bessie Peggy's mother. Hattie Della's sister and the object of gossip because of her absentminded grinning. Aunt Julia Della's aunt, known for her eccentricity. Bay Boy, Woodrow Cain, Buddy Wilson, Junie Bug A group of black school boys who torment Pecola until she is rescued by Claudia, Frieda, and Maureen Peal. Dewey Prince One of Marie's boyfriends. Rosemary Villanucci Claudia and Frieda's next-door white neighbor. Darlene Cholly Breedlove's first girlfriend; they suffered a humiliating sexual encounter when they were interrupted by jeering white men. Mr. Henry A boarder at the MacTeer house; he is beaten by Mr. MacTeer after he touches Frieda's breasts. Samson Fuller Cholly Breedlove's father, he abandoned Cholly before the boy was born. Miss Alice A close friend of Aunt Jimmy. M'Dear A respected midwife, she is known for her knowledge of herbal medicine. Essie Foster A neighbor and friend to Cholly and his Aunt Jimmy, her peach cobbler is blamed for causing Aunt Jimmy's death. O.V. Aunt Jimmy's half-brother and Cholly's uncle; Cholly doesn't trust him or like him. Jake When he is fifteen years old, he meets his cousin Cholly at Aunt Jimmy's funeral; they strike up a friendship and flirt with girls. Maureen Peal Claudia and Frieda refer to her as "Meringue Pie"; she is both hated and admired because of her beautiful clothes, light skin, long hair, and green eyes. Chicken and Pie Pauline Breedlove's twin siblings, who were under her care before she married Cholly Breedlove. Mr. and Mrs. Fisher The well-to-do white couple who employs Pauline as their maid and brag that she is the "ideal servant." They call her "Polly." Mr. Yacobowski A fifty-two-year-old white immigrant who owns the neighborhood candy store.

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CHARACTERS MAP

Summary The Bluest Eye is split into an untitled prelude and four large units, each named after a season. The four larger units begin with "Autumn" and end in "Summer," with each unit being split into smaller sections. The first section of each season is narrated by Claudia MacTeer, a woman whose memories frame the events of the novel. At the time that the main events of the plot take place, Claudia is a nine-year-old girl. This device allows Morrison to employ a reflective adult narrator without losing the innocent perspective of a child. Claudia MacTeer lives with her parents and her sister in the humble MacTeer family house in Lorrain, Ohio. The year is 1939. The novel's focus, however, is on a girl named Pecola Breedlove. Pecola, we are told in the prelude, will be raped by her father by novel's end. The prelude frames the story so that the reader knows from the beginning that Pecola's story ends tragically. The Breedloves are poor, unhappy, and troubled. Their story Page 46

seems in many ways to be deterministic, as they are often the victims of forces over which they have no control. Their situation is a powerful contrast to the MacTeers, who are of slender means but have a strong family unit. The MacTeers also seem to have much stronger agency, and are never really passive victims in the way that the Breedloves are. When Claudia is not narrating, a third-person narrator takes her place. The narrative style, even in third person, is one of great psychological intimacy. The third-person narrator of The Bluest Eye is no dispassionate observer, but one who gives insights into the thoughts of characters and occasionally interprets events in a very explicit manner. The sections narrated in the third person are all focused on some aspect of Pecola's life‹the sections explore either a family member or a specific significant event. These sections have headings, taken from a reading primer's Dick and Jane story. The use of the primer is a biting comment on the distance between Pecola's life and the pink-skinned bourgeois world in the Dick and Jane story. Each heading is a clean, straightforward match up: the section about Pecola's house is headed by a Dick-and-Jane sentence about their house, the section about Pauline is prefaced by a Dick-and-Jane sentence about their mother, etc. The basic plot is very simple: when Cholly Breedlove, Pecola's father, attempts to burn their house down, Pecola is sent by social workers to stay temporarily with the MacTeers. Claudia and Frieda befriend the girl, who is lonely, abused, and neglected. While staying with the MacTeers, she menstruates for the first time. Her first period, as the reader must consider it, becomes an upsetting event‹it makes it possible for her to be impregnated later by her own father. Pecola Breedlove goes back to live with her family, and we see aspects of her life depicted one section at a time. The Breedlove home is a converted storefront, cold and in disrepair. Pauline and Cholly Breedlove fight incessantly and with terrifying ferocity‹their battles always end up being physical‹and her brother Sammy runs away from home constantly. The Breedloves' name is suggestive and ironic: "love" is exactly what the family lacks, and certainly they are unable to generate more of it, as suggested by the word "breed." Instead, "breed" becomes an ominous reference to what Cholly ends up doing with his own daughter. Pauline is an unhappy woman who takes refuge in the wrathful and unforgiving aspects of Christianity. She lavishes her love on the white family for whom she works, while her own family lives in squalor. Cholly is an angry and irresponsible man, violent, cruel, and uncontrollable. All of the Breedloves are considered ugly, although part of the novel's work is to question and deconstruct what that ugliness really means. To get away from her parents and to pass the hours, Pecola spends a great deal of time with the whores who live upstairs. China, Poland, and Marie tolerate her presence without providing any deep love for the girl. Pecola is obsessed, we learn, with blue eyes. She prays for them constantly, and is convinced that by making her beautiful the blue eyes would change her life. From Pecola's wish and from many other events in the novel, it becomes clear that most of the people in Lorrain's black community consider whiteness beautiful and blackness ugly. The novel has many character who long to look white, and also has several characters of mixed ancestry who emulate whites and try to suppress all things in themselves that might be African. Soaphead Church's Anglophile family and Geraldine are examples of this kind of black person. The MacTeer family goes through their own small dramas, as Frieda and Claudia deal with stuck-up schoolmates and a lecherous boarder. Consistently, the MacTeer family is able to insulate the girls from harm. When their boarder, a man named Mr. Henry, makes an indecent pass at eleven-year-old Frieda, Mr. and Mrs. MacTeer react with force, protecting their daughter violently and without any doubt of her innocence. In contrast, in the Breedlove family the sexual threat comes not from outside the family unit but from within. One Saturday in spring, Cholly rapes Pecola. He rapes her a second time soon afterward. Pecola then becomes pregnant with her father's child.

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Miserable and desperate, Pecola believes more than ever that blue eyes would change her life. She goes to a pedophilic fortune-teller named Soaphead Church to ask for blue eyes. Soaphead Church decides that he can use her for a small task, and so he uses an unwitting Pecola to kill a dog that he hates. She completes the task, which she believes will be like a transformative spell. The dog dies in a gruesome manner, and Pecola runs away in terror. The next time we see Pecola, she's lost her mind. She spends all of her time talking to a new "friend"; he/she is an imaginary friend who is now the only person with whom Pecola speaks. The topic of conversation is most frequently the blueness of Pecola's eyes. Pecola spends the rest of her life as a madwoman. The title of the novel provides some interesting insights about standards of beauty. Morrison is interested in showin g the illusory nature of the social construction of beauty, which is created in part by the imaginary world of advertising billboards and movie stars. The title uses the superlative of blue because at the end of the novel, when Pecola has gone mad, she is obsessed with having the bluest eyes of anyone living. But the title also has "eye" in the singular‹by disembodying the eye, Morrison subverts the idea of beauty or standards of beauty, tearing the idealized part away from the whole, creating a beauty icon that is not even human. Reinforcing this non-human aspect of the ideal eye, Pecola's new blue eyes at the novel's end are not described with colors in the human range‹her eyes are blue like streaks of cobalt, or more blue than the sky itself. At key points in the novel, important plot information is revealed through gossip. Morrison writes long stretches of beautiful and uninterrupted dialogue, with great sensitivity to oral language. Pauline Breedlove gets a chance to speak in the first person near the middle of the novel; in a section divided between third-person narrator and Pauline, she gets to address the reader directly and in dialect. Morrison's interest in carving a place for oral language in literary art is readily apparent in this novel. Morrison occasionally switches tense, moving fluidly to present tense when it serves her. The move has different effects: for some scenes, it provides a sense of great immediacy. In one sequence narrated by Claudia, it creates the feel that Claudia is reliving the experience. In other scenes, it creates the feel of a pattern. When Pecola tries to by candy at a local grocer's, we read about the moment in present tense. In this case, Morrison's use of the present tense suggests that the unpleasant interaction between Pecola and the shopkeeper forms a template for all of her interactions with other human beings. Morrison, by employing multiple narrators, is trying to make sure that no single voice becomes authoritative. The gossiping women become narrators in their own right, relaying critical information and advancing the story at key points. Claudia's perspective is balanced by the third person narrator, and Pauline Breedlove narrates for parts of one of the middle sections of the novel. This method of multiplying narrative perspectives also demands more active participation on the part of the reader, who must reassemble the parts in order to see the whole. Morrison is still working somewhat clumsily with this type of narrative in The Bluest Eye. In later novels, she has a chance to experiment and refine her forms further. Detailed Summary The Bluest Eye opens with two short untitled and unnumbered sections. The first section is a version of the classic Dick and Jane stories found in grade school reading primers. There is a pretty house, Mother, Father, Dick, Jane, a cat, a dog, and, at the end, a friend for Jane to play with. The same story appears three times in succession, repeated verbatim each time. The first time the text appears with full punctuation and normal spacing. The second time the same story appears without any punctuation or capitalization, but with a space between each of the words. The third time the text has no capitalization, no punctuation, and no spaces between the words. The second section is a short passage narrated by Claudia MacTeer. Claudia tells us that "quiet as it's kept," in the fall of 1941, when she was a young girl, no marigolds bloomed. She reveals that at the time she and her sister Frieda thought the marigolds did not bloom because Pecola was having her father's baby. The Page 48

marigolds planted by Claudia and Frieda never grow, and for years Claudia thought that her sister was right in blaming her, because she was the one who planted the seeds too deep in the earth. But now, the narrator wonders if perhaps it was the earth itself that was barren. Claudia connects the earth to Pecola, saying that just as the MacTeer daughters put seeds into their plot of black dirt, Pecola's father dropped his seeds in his plot of black dirt. Now, with the flowers and the baby dead, only Pecola and the barren earth are left. The prelude closes by wondering about the source of Pecola's tragedy: "There is really nothing more to say‹except why. But since why is difficult to handled, one must take refuge in how." We are once again within Claudia MacTeer's narrative, opening with a lyrical passage about the harshness of winter and her father's determination to keep his family warm and safe. Claudia also confides her dislike of a new girl in school named Maureen Peal, a light-skinned and well-off black girl who has quickly become the new darling of teachers and children alike. On an unseasonably warm day, Maureen happens to choose to walk with Claudia and Frieda part of the way home. The three girls run into a group of boys who are tormenting Pecola Breedlove‹by chanting about her blackness and her father's supposed habit of sleeping naked. These are the insults of choice, even though many of the boys' fathers might also sleep naked and the boys themselves are all black. Led by Frieda, the MacTeer sisters stand up to the boys and get them to leave Pecola alone. The four girls then walk together, and initially Maureen is very friendly to Pecola, talking about movies with her and treating her to ice cream. The conversation turns to puberty and then Maureen asks if Pecola has ever seen a naked man. Pecola, for some reason, seems to think that she is being asked if she has seen her father naked, which she vehemently denies. The questions are clearly making Pecola uncomfortable, and Claudia and Frieda try to get Maureen to stop. The conversation quickly degenerates into a fight, and Maureen starts to tease all three girls, but Pecola especially, picking up on the boys' lead and saying that Pecola must have seen her own father naked. Claudia tries to hit Maureen but Maureen flees; safe on the other side of the street Maureen screams that she is indeed cute and the other girls are black and ugly. Claudia is clearly troubled by this possibility, but she also says that Maureen is not the real enemy. The real enemy is the "Thing" that makes Maureen beautiful and the other girls ugly. Frieda and Claudia go home, where their boarder, Mr. Henry, greets them and gives them money to go buy ice cream. The girls decide to go get candy‹because of Frieda's fear that Maureen might be at the ice cream shop‹and so they arrive home earlier than Mr. Henry expected. Playing outside, the girls look in through one of the windows and see Mr. Henry nibbling on the fingers of China and the Maginot Line (Marie). Frieda and Claudia recognize them, but wait until the prostitutes are gone to go back into the house. They ask Mr. Henry who the women were, and he tells the girls that the women are members of his Bible study class. He also asks the girls not to tell their mother. When the girls are alone and Claudia asks what they should do, Frieda decides that they don't need to tell their mother, because no plates have been used, and Mrs. MacTeer once said that she wouldn't let the Maginot Line eat off of one of her plates. First-person narrative by Claudia MacTeer. On a Saturday in spring, Claudia goes inside and finds Frieda crying. She learns that Mr. MacTeer has beaten up Mr. Henry and kicked him out of the house. Frieda narrates the whole story to Claudia: Mr. Henry made sexual advances at Frieda, who ran to tell her parents. Mr. MacTeer chased Mr. Henry off, beating him first and then firing a gun at him. Miss Dunion, a neighbor, came over afterward and suggested that the MacTeers take Frieda to the doctor to see if she has been "ruined"‹a suggestion that sends Mrs. MacTeer into a rage against Miss. Dunion. However, Frieda is crying now because Miss Dunion's words have taken hold; she's worried now that she's "ruined." Frieda equates being "ruined" to being like the Maginot Line, because she heard her mother say that the Maginot Line was a "ruined" woman. Both of the girls think that being ruined means becoming fat like Marie, and believe that Poland and China aren't fat only because they drink whiskey. Claudia suggests that they try to

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get Pecola to help them find some whiskey, reasoning that Pecola should be able to help them because Cholly is always drunk. The sisters go to the Breedlove home, but no one is there. On the balcony above the door, Marie (the Maginot Line) is having a drink of root-beer. She treats the girls with some kindness, telling them that Pecola is with Mrs. Breedlove at the house where Mrs. Breedlove is a servant. She then tells the girls that they can wait with her until Pecola is back, offering them pop to drink while they wait. Frieda says that they can't because Marie is a ruined woman. Marie becomes silent, clearly somehow hurt by Frieda's words. She then throws her root-beer bottle down at the girls' feet and laughs loudly, terrifying the girls, who run until they can't run any farther. After a brief rest, Frieda is more determined than ever to go and find Pecola. The girls walk all the way to the rich part of town where Mrs. Breedlove works. They find the house and see Pecola sitting on the stoop outside. The girls have a brief exchange during which Pecola defends the Maginot Line (Miss Marie, as she calls her), but the conversation is cut short when Mrs. Breedlove comes out to see who Pecola's visitors are. She allows the girls inside. Pecola is about to use a wagon to bring the wash back to the Breedlove storefront, and Mrs. Breedlove says that the MacTeer sisters can walk back with her. While Mrs. Breedlove goes to get the wash, a very young white girl appears and reacts with fear when she sees the three girls. The girl is the daughter of the family that employs Breedlove as a servant. She asks where "Polly" is, something that infuriates Claudia because even Pecola calls her own mother "Mrs. Breedlove." Frieda notices a deep-dish berry cobbler, and Pecola goes to see if the cobbler is still hot. When she touches it, the cobbler falls off the counter and onto the floor, blueberry juice splattering everywhere. The hot pie filling burns Pecola's legs painfully, but when Mrs. Breedlove returns and sees the mess she runs to Pecola and backhands her, knocking the girl down. Pecola and the MacTeers leave the house in shame, laundry bag in tow, and as they leave they can hear Mrs. Breedlove fussing over the little white girl, who is crying. When the little white girl asks Mrs. Breedlove who the black girls were, Mrs. Breedlove assures her that she doesn't need to know: "Hush. Don't worry none." We return to Claudia's narrative. That summer, she and Frieda try to make money by selling packets of seed door-to-door in hopes that they'll be able to get a bicycle. Invited into house after house, listening in on the conversations of adults, they piece together what has happened to Pecola. Pecola, everyone is saying, is pregnant by her father. Cholly has left town. No one expresses real concern or sorrow for Pecola, and no one wants the baby to survive. Claudia and Frieda feel terrible sorrow for Pecola, all the more so because no one else does. Claudia also wonders about the poor, unwanted baby: "More strongly than my fondness for Pecola, I felt a need for someone to want the black baby to live just to counteract the universal love of white baby dolls, Shirley Temples, and Maureen Peals." Claudia and Frieda decide to try for a miracle. They give up on the bicycle and bury the money as a sacrifice. They plant the seeds in their backyard, singing a song, praying, and saying magic words, believing that when they marigolds flowers come up, they'll know that everything is fine. But the reader knows from the prelude that the flowers never bloom.

The Glass Menagerie Tennessee Williams About the Author Thomas Lanier "Tennessee" Williams III (March 26, 1911 – February 25, 1983) was an American playwright. Along with Eugene O'Neill and Arthur Miller, he is considered among the three foremost playwrights of 20th-century American drama. After years of obscurity, he became suddenly famous with The Glass Menagerie (1944), a play that closely reflected his own unhappy family background. This heralded a string of successes, including A Streetcar Named Desire (1947), Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1955), and Sweet Bird of Youth (1959). His later work attempted a new style that did not appeal to audiences, and Page 50

alcohol and drug dependence further inhibited his creative output. His drama A Streetcar Named Desire is often numbered on short lists of the finest American plays of the 20th century alongside Eugene O'Neill's Long Day's Journey into Night and Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman. Much of Williams' most acclaimed work was adapted for the cinema. He also wrote short stories, poetry, essays and a volume of memoirs. In 1979, four years before his death, Williams was inducted into the American Theater Hall of Fame. CHARACTERS Amanda Wingfield Once a Southern belle who was the darling of her small town's social scene, Amanda is now an abandoned wife and single mother living in a small apartment in St. Louis. She dreams of her past and of her daughter's future, but seems unwilling to recognize the painful harsh realities of the present. She is a loving mother, but her demands make life difficult for Laura and unbearable for Tom. Amanda finally senses Tom's stirrings to leave and makes a deal with him - that if he can find a suitable replacement for himself in the form of a husband for Laura, then he can disappear for good. In all reality, then, Amanda is holding her son hostage - threatening his future in order to ensure her own. Laura Wingfield Crippled from childhood, Laura walks with the aid of a leg brace. Laura is painfully shy, unable to face the world outside of the tiny Wingfield apartment. She spends her time polishing her collection of tiny glass animals, her "glass menagerie." Her presence is almost ghostly, and her inability to connect with others outside of her family makes her dependent on Tom and Amanda. Jim's nickname for her, "Blue Roses," suggests both her odd beauty and her isolation, as blue roses exist nowhere in the real world. She is in many ways like Rose, Tennessee Williams' real-life sister. As a parallel to Rose, then, Laura becomes helpless and impossibly passive - rendered to a fate entirely dictated by Tom's own decisions. Laura's passivity, meanwhile, incurs a tremendous amount of guilt and repressed rage in Tom, who has trouble leaving as long as he thinks of his sister. Tom Wingfield Tom is an aspiring poet who works in the Continental Shoemakers warehouse. He is the narrator of the play and the action of the play is framed by Tom's memory. Tom loves his mother and sister, but he feels trapped at home. They are dependent on his wages and as long as he stays with them he feels he can never have a life of his own. Nightly, he disappears to "go to the movies." As the play continues, Tom feels increasingly imprisoned and his mother begins to sense his stirrings. She makes him a deal - as long as he finds a husband for Laura, he's free to escape. But Tom is trapped by his own guilt for leaving and his own repressed rage for being put in a position where his freedom comes at the expense of his own conscience. Jim O'Connor Jim is the long-awaited gentleman caller for Laura - and the supposed prospect for her matrimony. He is outgoing, enthusiastic, and believes in self-improvement. He kisses Laura and raises her hopes that they might be together, before he finally reveals to her that he is engaged. Tom describes him as a person more connected to the real world than any of the other characters, but Jim is also a symbol for the "expected something that we live for." Page 51

CHARACTERS MAP

SHORT SUMMARY In the Wingfield apartment in St. Louis, the mother, Amanda, lives with her crippled daughter and her working son, Tom. At dinner she tells her daughter, Laura, to stay nice and pretty for her gentlemen callers even though Laura has never had any callers and expects none. Amanda remembers the time that she had seventeen gentlemen callers all on one Sunday afternoon. Amanda then tells Laura to practice her shorthand and typing. A few days later Amanda comes home from Laura's school after finding out that Laura had dropped out several months earlier. Amanda is shocked and wonders what they will do with their lives since Laura refuses to try to help and spends all her time playing with her glass menagerie and her old phonograph records. Amanda decides that they must have a gentleman caller for Laura, and Laura tells her that she has liked only one boy in her whole life, a high school boy named Jim. When Tom goes out to the movies that night, Amanda accuses him of doing something else rather than going to the movies every night. They have an argument, and the next morning after Tom apologizes, Amanda asks him to find some nice gentleman caller for Laura and to bring him home for dinner. A few days later, Tom tells Amanda that he has invited a young man named Jim O'Connor home for dinner. Amanda immediately begins to make rather elaborate plans for the gentleman caller. On the next night, Amanda oversees Laura's dress and adds some "gay deceivers" to the dress to make Laura more attractive. When she mentions the name of the gentleman caller, Laura realizes that it is possibly the same Jim on whom she had a crush in high school. She tells her mother that she might not be able to come for dinner if it is the same one. Amanda will have nothing to do with such foolishness, and even though Laura is sick when the gentleman caller arrives, Amanda forces her to open the door. And it is the Jim that she knew from high school. At dinner she is physically sick and has to be excused. Later, Amanda sends Jim, the gentleman caller, into the living room to keep Laura Company while she and Tom do the dishes. As Jim and Laura talk, she loses some of her shyness and becomes rather charming. Jim is attracted by Laura's quiet charms, but later after having kissed her, he must explain that he is already engaged. When Amanda reappears, Jim explains to her also that he is engaged and must go. Page 52

Amanda is so stunned that she accuses Tom of deliberately playing a trick on them. The play ends with Tom some years in the future thinking back on his sister Laura whom he can never forget. SCENE 1 At the rise of the curtain, we see an old-fashioned tenement apartment. We can also see the narrow alleyways which surround the apartment. Tom Wingfield, the narrator, enters and addresses the audience. Tom explains that the play is a memory play and that he is one of the characters in the play. The other characters are his mother Amanda, his sister Laura, and a gentleman caller. There is another character who never appears. This is his father who deserted the family some long years ago — "He was a telephone man who fell in love with long distances!" As the action begins, Amanda is instructing Tom about how to eat every bite of his food until Tom yells at her that he can't enjoy a bite of his food because of her constant nagging. Amanda then tells Laura to stay fresh and pretty for the gentlemen callers. Laura tells her she isn't expecting any, and Amanda tells how one Sunday afternoon in Blue Mountain, Mississippi, she had seventeen gentlemen callers all on one afternoon. Tom and Laura have heard this story many times but listen patiently to it again. Amanda then sends Laura into the living room to practice her shorthand or typing and to stay pretty for the gentlemen callers in spite of Laura's reassertion that there will be none. SCENE 2 Laura is sitting alone playing with her glass collection. When she hears Amanda ascending the stairs, she immediately hides the collection and sits before the typing chart pretending to study it. Amanda comes in and theatrically drops her gloves on the floor. When Laura asks her what is wrong, Amanda accuses her of deception. Amanda tells Laura that she was by the business school in order to inquire about Laura's progress. It was then that she found out that Laura had not been attending school. Amanda is depressed about losing the fifty dollars tuition and about Laura's future. Laura explains that on the day she was supposed to take her first speed test in typing, she became sick and threw up on the floor. Since then she has been pretending to go to school, but instead she has been going to the museums and to the bird houses in the zoo and to a big glass house where they "raise the tropical flowers." Amanda wonders what will then happen to a girl who can't work and who has no gentlemen callers. She then wonders if Laura has ever liked a boy. Laura tells about a boy in high school named Jim with whom she was infatuated. He used to call her "blue roses" because she had had pleurosis, which he thought sounded like "blue roses." Amanda then decides that Laura must get married. Laura protests that she is a cripple, but Amanda refuses to allow Laura to use that word and insists that all Laura needs to do is to develop charm. SCENE 3 Tom explains how his mother, once she had decided that a gentleman caller was necessary, set all her energy to preparing for one. She began a campaign on the telephone to recruit subscribers for a popular woman's magazine. When the scene opens, Tom and his mother are arguing about a book by D. H. Lawrence that she took back to the library because she refuses to have such a hideous book in her house. Tom reminds her that he pays the rent on the house. Tom then prepares to leave to go to the movies. Amanda screams at him that he can't stay out late at night and still do a good day's work. Tom reminds her how much he hates his job at the warehouse. When Amanda accuses Tom of doing something he is ashamed of every night and accuses him of lying about going every night to the movies, Tom becomes infuriated and tells his mother a fantastic tale and ends by calling her an "ugly — babbling — witch." Tom tries to get his coat on and in his rapid struggle to leave, he throws his coat against the wall and shatters some of Laura's glass menagerie.

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SCENE 4 At the beginning of the scene, Tom is just returning from the movies. He explains to Laura, who is awake, that the movie was very long, and there was a magician who could perform tricks such as escaping from a coffin which had been nailed shut. The scene fades out and comes in again with Amanda calling for Tom to "rise and shine!" Laura asks Tom to apologize to Amanda for their argument of the preceding evening. Amanda sends Laura to the store for butter and tells her to charge it even though Laura has qualms about charging anything else. As Laura leaves, she trips on the fire escape and Tom rushes to help her. After she is gone, Tom slowly and reluctantly apologizes to Amanda. Then almost immediately, Amanda begins to tell Tom how and what to eat for his breakfast. But mainly, she wants to talk about Laura. Amanda feels that Laura broods about Tom's unhappiness. She then inquires as to why Tom goes so often to the movies. Tom explains that he likes adventure. Amanda maintains that a man finds adventure in his work or else he does without it. When Tom attempts to explain that man is, by instinct, a lover, hunter, and so forth, Amanda recoils and will not listen to talk about instinct. Amanda tells Tom that they must be making plans for Laura. She has seen the letter that Tom has received from the Merchant Marine and knows that he is planning to leave them, but she tells Tom that he must first see to it that Laura is provided for, because Laura can't spend her life playing old phonograph records and fooling with "those pieces of glass." Amanda then asks Tom to see if he can find some nice young man at the warehouse and bring him home for dinner in order to meet Laura. Tom promises to try to find someone and immediately Amanda renews her campaign to get more subscribers for her magazine. SCENE 5 The scene opens with Amanda instructing Tom to comb his hair and not to smoke so much. Tom turns to the audience and tells about the Paradise Dance Hall across the alley and how adventure was to be found in other parts of the world. When Amanda sees the new moon, she makes a wish; this reminds Tom of Amanda's constant wish for a gentleman caller for Laura. He tells her that the gentleman caller is coming tomorrow. Amanda protests that she doesn't have time to get ready, but Tom tells her she shouldn't make a fuss over this boy. After Amanda finds out that his name is O'Connor, she decides to have a salmon loaf. She then inquires if Mr. O'Connor drinks because "old maids are better off than wives of drunkards!" Amanda asks how much money Mr. O'Connor makes a month and decides that eighty-five dollars is just enough for a family man. She is very pleased to find out that he goes to night school and is trying to improve himself. Tom finally warns Amanda that Mr. O'Connor doesn't yet know about Laura. Amanda thinks he will be glad he was invited to dinner when he sees how pretty and lovely Laura is. Tom tries to make Amanda see that Laura is different from other people. He doesn't want Amanda to expect too much from Laura. When he refers to her as crippled, Amanda reminds him that he is never to use that word. But Tom also means that Laura is different in other ways because "she lives in a world of her own — a world of — little glass ornaments" and old phonograph records. He then leaves to go to the movies. Amanda immediately calls Laura to come wish upon the moon and tells her to wish for "happiness" and "good fortune!" SCENE 6 Tom explains about Jim O'Connor. In high school, he had been the outstanding boy who had won basketball games and the silver cup in debating. But apparently his speed slowed down after graduation because he was holding a job not much better than Tom's. But Tom explains that Jim was his only friend at the warehouse because Tom was valuable to Jim's ego as a person who could remember his greatness in high school. The scene then opens on Amanda and Laura as they are preparing for the arrival of the gentleman caller. Laura complains that her mother is making her nervous, but Amanda continues to fuss over Laura and even uses two powder puffs to pad Laura's breasts. Amanda goes away to dress herself and appears a little Page 54

later wearing a very girlish frock held over from her youth and carrying a bunch of jonquils — "the legend of her youth." Amanda tells Laura that she is to open the door when Mr. O'Connor comes. Laura is taken aback by this name and when she hears that the first name is Jim, she tells Amanda that she won't be able to come to the dinner table. Since this would destroy all of Amanda's plans, she will not abide Laura's "silliness." Amanda disappears into the kitchen, and, when the doorbell rings, she calls merrily to Laura to answer the door. Laura begs her mother to open the door and tells her that she is sick. Amanda forces Laura to open the door. After she has let them in, Laura retreats as quickly as possible into the other room. Tom and Jim talk about the warehouse. Jim warns Tom that he is on the verge of losing his job, but Tom replies that his future plans don't include working at the warehouse. He has used the money for the last light bill to pay his dues at the Merchant Seaman's Union. But he warns Jim not to mention it because his mother doesn't yet know of his plans. Amanda comes in and meets Jim O'Connor. She immediately bombards him with a long talk about weather, her gentlemen callers, and her past life. When Tom comes back from checking on the supper, he says that supper is already on the table and that Laura is not feeling well but Amanda refuses to begin supper until Laura comes. Laura enters and stumbles over a chair. Finally, Amanda notices that Laura is actually sick and tells Tom to help her to the living room. Laura lies shuddering on the couch while the others begin the evening meal. SCENE 7 As the curtain rises, we see Laura still lying huddled on the sofa. Just as the others are finishing dinner, the lights go out, but Amanda calmly lights the candles and asks Jim if he would check on the fuses. She realizes that Tom probably didn't pay the light bill, so as punishment she makes him help with the dishes while Mr. O'Connor keeps Laura company. She asks him to take Laura a little wine to drink. As Jim O'Connor approaches Laura, she sits up nervously. But Jim casually sits on the floor and asks Laura if she doesn't like to sit on the floor. He then chews some gum and offers her some. He asks her frankly why she is shy and refers to her as "an old-fashioned type of girl." When Laura asks him if he has kept up with his singing, Jim then remembers that they knew each other in high school. When Laura mentions that she was always late for their singing class because she was crippled and her brace clumped so loudly, Jim maintains that he never noticed it. He thinks that Laura was too self-conscious. Laura brings out the high school year book which has pictures of Jim singing the lead role in an operetta. Laura tells Jim that she always wanted to ask him to autograph her book, but he was so terribly popular. Jim gallantly signs it for her now. When Laura asks Jim about his high school girl friend, he tells her that it was just rumor. Jim wonders what Laura has done since high school. She tells him about the business college and begins to tell about her glass collection; then Jim interrupts her and explains how she has an inferiority complex. When he finishes, Laura shows him her glass collection. Even though Jim is afraid that he will break one, Laura tells him that he can handle them. She even shows him her prize — her glass unicorn which is thirteen years old. Jim wonders if the unicorn doesn't feel strange since it is so different. Laura tells him that the unicorn doesn't complain and seems to get along nicely with the other animals. Jim hears some music from the neighboring dance hall and asks Laura to dance. Even though she protests that she can't, Jim insists and during the dance, they stumble against the table and they break the horn off the unicorn. Laura maintains now that it is like the other horses. Jim tries to tell Laura how different she is — that she has a charm that is as different as "blue roses." He then says that someone should kiss Laura, and he leans over and kisses her. Almost immediately he knows that he has done the wrong thing, and he tells her that he shouldn't have kissed her because he is engaged to be married in the next month. After he finishes with his explanation, Laura gives him the broken unicorn. At this point Amanda enters with a pitcher of lemonade. After flitting about and chattering, she is about to leave when Jim explains that Page 55

he has to go because he is engaged. Amanda is surprised and says that Tom didn't tell them that Jim was engaged. Jim explains that no one knows it yet, and then he leaves. Amanda then calls Tom and accuses him of playing a joke on them by bringing home an engaged man. Even though Tom protests that he didn't know Jim was engaged, Amanda refuses to believe him. She holds Tom responsible for all of the expense involved in entertaining the gentleman caller and tells Tom that he is a selfish dreamer who never thinks about his "mother deserted and an unmarried sister who's crippled and has no job." So Tom does leave. But as the scene closes, Tom says that even though he left, he could never forget his sister. Wherever he goes, he still thinks about her. ---------

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