I'm actually having a good time with this article - but confession, I do love the story of how the Puritans try to get rid of Christmas, and fail in the long term because people like to celebrate something they're used to celebrating. 

No Christmas Under Cromwell? The Puritan Assault on Christmas during the 1640s and 1650s

History Extra, Dec 2013

 

"...So strong was the popular attachment to the old festivities, indeed, that during the postwar period a number of pro-Christmas riots occurred. In December 1646, for example, a group of young men at Bury St Edmunds threatened local tradesmen who had dared to open their shops on Christmas Day, and were only dispersed by the town magistrates after a bloody scuffle.

 

[1647:] ...In London, a crowd of apprentices assembled at Cornhill on Christmas Day, and there “in despite of authority, they set up Holly and Ivy” on the pinnacles of the public water conduit. When the lord mayor despatched some officers “to pull down these gawds,” the apprentices resisted them, forcing the mayor to rush to the scene with a party of soldiers and to break up the demonstration by force."

Sometimes I forget how I heard about certain books and why they made it onto my TRL (To Read List) but a lot of the time I just see a blurb about a book somewhere and it peaks my interest. That's what happened with The Witches: Salem, 1692 by Stacy Schiff. As the title suggests, it's about the witch trials that occurred in Salem during the year of 1692. I've actually visited Salem and read up a bit on the subject but Schiff covered the start of the accusations through to the far-reaching consequences of the trials into present day. She touched on the justice system, political climate of the Americas (Massachusetts specifically), and the cultural/religious climate of the area. The belief in witches was nothing new or novel to the people of Salem. At this point, there had been other cases of witchcraft that resulted in trials, convictions, and deaths in others parts of the world. However, the volume of accused which ballooned in the year 1692 and the paranoia that gripped the people of Salem was so extreme that we're still talking about it today. What I found most intriguing about the book was the aspect of gender roles and how that most likely played a leading role in the affair. Preteen girls and women were the primary accusers (and women the accused). This group had no voice in society and yet they were able to completely blind the rest of the community into believing that they saw visions, wrestled with specters, and signed pacts with the devil. They pointed fingers at innocent people and everyone stopped and listened to them. Why was this? Why did their opinions suddenly matter? Why were much of the women accused on the fringes of society? There are a lot of questions which we may never have the answer to because documentation is sparse (much was lost or intentionally altered). We can only theorize and rationalize to the best of our ability. The occult and the manifestation of it on people is so fascinating to me. I really enjoyed this book (the bibliography is AWESOME). If you're as curious about this topic as I am and you want to look at it from a variety of angles then I recommend you give The Witches: Salem, 1692 a shot.

Some have suggested that maybe that this may not be one of his best plays but I still found it quite enjoyable. It is a shame that, unlike the other two plays that appear n 'Three Plays for Puritans', this one did not make it onto the Hollywood screen, especially since he gives the play the subtitle of 'an adventure'. Sometimes I wonder if it is possible to have a play that is an adventure produced on the stage. I certainly could not imagine ever going to Her Majesty's Theatre to see a production of this:

Though I have been to Her Majesty's Theatre (in Adelaide) to see a production of this:

So I guess when it comes to the modern theatre scene anything is certainly possible (and the performance of The Hobbit was actually really good – oh, I have also seen The Wizard of Oz live on stage as well).

Anyway, this play has everything that an adventure could have: an exotic location, a villain, a hero, and a damsel in distress. Actually, I probably cannot suggest that we have the last three things because the play does not actually turn out like the traditional adventure story. The story is about a couple of English aristocrats – a judge (Sir Howard) and his wife (Lady Cecily) - who travel to Morocco on a holiday to visit the interior. Now, I'm not going to suggest that Morocco is the safest of places to visit, but then again it is certainly not one of the most dangerous. However, as Shaw seems to indicate, in his day the interior of Morocco was certainly one place that a well respected English gentleman and his wife would unlikely be going a tour. However, they insist on it and hire the likes of a Captain Brassbound to take them there.

As ends up happening in a lot of these plays, it turns out that there is a connection between Brassbound and Sir Howard (the are related), and Brassbound has a rather nasty bone to pick with him. Brassbound was supposed to inherit a property off of his brother, but that was stolen from him by some rather dubious agent in the West Indies. Also his mother was killed, which turned out to be because of an indirect action of the Sir Howard's. As such Brassbound wants revenge, and by taking them to his castle in the interior he has them where he wants them.

Brassbound's character is interesting because while be portrays a rather hard exterior (he has to since he is a pirate), there is a part of him that shows compassion. This is described (if you can understand what he is saying) by one of his crew members, a certain Drinkwater. He commands the boat, but he commands it fairly. Also, we have this impression that while he may be a leader, he does not see himself as a commander. He is not power hungry, nor does he appear to be greedy. Rather, as it comes to light, it turns out that he just wants revenge, and he selects Sir Howard as the target of the revenge.

It is also interesting how Shaw portrays the Moors. In those days they would have been seen as barbaric savages, and in a way Shaw portrays them as such. The further away from civilisation they go the more savage they become. As is indicated to Sir Howard that despite his high standing unless gold were to be discovered in the interior it would be highly unlikely that the British would send in troops to either rescue, or seek revenge, for his death. It was simply too dangerous, especially for Christian men. It seems that little has changed with regards to the Western opinions of Muslims because, in a way, they are still portrayed as wild, backward, and savage, and it is unfortunate that it is only the bad apples that are portrayed that way. On the otherside though many of them have the same view of us here in the West.

The one thing that I did find really annoying with this play was Shaw's insistence of attempting to put dialect into the text, especially Drinkwater's. However, I suspect that if I were to see this play performed then Drinkwater would be just as difficult to understand on the stage as he is on the printed page. I guess Shaw wanted to ram the point home (and he does discuss his use of dialects at the end of the play).

The problem I face when I approach this play is that there is so much in it I simply do not know where to start. There is the character of Julius Caesar that Shaw seems to capture perfectly, from the wise and kind leader to the man who would repetitively show mercy to his enemies: which resulted in his own destruction. There is also the idea of the new empire meeting the old empire, and the elder statesman meeting the child queen and the interaction between the two. Then there is a beautiful scene at the baby sphinx where Caesar and Cleopatra first meet, and while Caesar is aware of who he is talking to, Cleopatra is not.

First, though, I should mention that Hollywood turned this play into a very faithful movie, and by clicking in the image below you will be taken to You-Tube where you can watch the full length feature:

Anyway, the first thing that struck me was the interplay between Julius Caesar and Queen Cleopatra: it is nothing short of brilliant. They are both in effect monarchs, but their view of political leadership is radically different. Cleopatra comes from the old school where the monarch does not work and has everything done for her, whereas Caesar is more of a modern monarch in that he works and he takes his position seriously. Secondly, Cleopatra is a queen and she is not afraid to let people know that she is the queen, however Caesar never lets on that he is a monarch, and in fact when he was offered the crown he refused it because while he is a leader, a general, and a statesman, he does not want to be known as a monarch, or a king.

In many ways this was the nature of the Roman Empire, in that it is portrayed as being a modern empire, an empire where everybody pulls their weight and works hard – it was a nation of farmers and soldiers, and the idea of the leader living in luxury and living off the hard work of others is anathema. This is clearly shown in the banquet scene where Caesar rebukes Cleopatra for the exotic food that is being brought before him. This is also shown where Cleopatra is shocked that Caesar, a leader, does not sleep in a luxurious bed, but rather in a cot in a tent, and even then, he does not sleep because he is up all night working.

Thus what we see here is a clash of kingdoms; a clash of the old and the new. As I was reading this play it seemed to be reflective of England's occupation of India (despite that having occurred around a century prior to the play being written, but having it reflective of England and Egypt in Shaw's time simply did not seem to work because at that time Egypt simply did not come across as an exotic kingdom in its death throes). What we have is the modern empire coming into conflict with the empire that is still caught up in its traditional past. In another sense it could be reflective of England and China, especially with the boy emperor, who I believe was emperor of China around that time. Still, the image of Caesar as the noble and enlightened leader was not very reflective of the leadership of England of Shaw's day.

It is interesting that we have Caesar as the elder statesman of the young empire and Cleopatra as the girl monarch of the old empire. It seems to be reflective of the old empire being so caught up in tradition that it is no longer able to move forward, and as such it is not longer able to progress and grow, and as such is left with the mind of a child. It is even suggestive that when a child takes the throne, and the child is immature, then the kingdom itself is in trouble. However, with Rome we have the new empire, despite it being around seven hundred years old at that time (Egypt was much older though, around two and a half thousand years). However, the age of Rome is irrelevant because we have a new Rome that is maturing, and expanding, and despite still being embroiled in civil war (or on the verge on a new civil war) the empire had still to reach its height. This was not the case with Britain in 1898 because while it was still at its height and its destruction was inconceivable, with the rise of the other industrial powers, and Britain's downfall was not far off.

Part self-depreciating, scathingly honest, bitingly funny memoir, and part town history, author biography, literary critique, Perfectly Miserable mesmerized me with its multi-tiered perspective, frequent revelations, and consummate writing. Sarah Payne Stuart grew up in Concord, Massachusetts, and though she was perfectly miserable much of the time memory and desire are funny things. She hightailed it out of Concord as soon as she was old enough, but found herself deciding to move back when she had young children of her own, picturing for them an ideal childhood in the town where Thoreau, Emerson and the Alcotts lived, even though that was far from her own experience. Things, of course, didn’t work out exactly as planned, but then again neither did the lives those Transcendentalists.

The Puritans and Transcendentalists left a mixed legacy for the people of Concord, and Payne spends a good part of the book on their personal lives, which is fascinating, and on how their history and philosophies are still influential, especially in old New England families like hers, but not always with good results. I don’t have Payne’s real estate cravings, she moved her family every few years, usually by choice, always expecting social redemption, or parental approval, or a more exact approximation of the ideal New England lifestyle, but she and I brought up our children close enough in time that I can relate to many of her child-rearing choices (promote self-esteem! don’t burden them with meaningless chores!) and subsequent mishandlings. Even so, while reading along I sometimes couldn’t help but want to ask her in amazement why, why, why did you say that to your mother or child, or think that, or believe that tack would work, and yet she makes you totally see it too, and understand how it all made sense to her at the time.

Because Perfectly Miserable is about how Payne’s life has been affected by the literature and lives of Transcendentalists and Puritans the book it most nearly reminds me of is the also thoughtful and engrossing My Life in Middlemarch by Rebecca Mead, though the two books have very different tones. I first encountered this material in a shortened form as a New Yorker article--which oddly or not  was the same way I became aware of My Life in Middlemarch--and Payne’s article was so promising and fascinating it left me determined to read her book. In book form it is maybe a little overly long in the middle, or at least my interest diminished briefly, but the concluding chapters are strong again and most of the time I was reading I couldn’t put this book down.