CHAPTER 1
Why, What, and How
1.1 Shakespeareâs language? Why study it?
This book is about Shakespeareâs language. When a book declares this as its topic, it can be one of two things. Perhaps it will be written by a literary critic with an interest in language. Maybe it will talk about the poetâs imagery, about his use of metaphor, and his literary style. Frank Kermodeâs famous and excellent book entitled (yes!) Shakespeareâs Language â is of this first type. On the other hand it may be a book written by a linguist with an interest in literature. Less on imagery and literary style here perhaps, and more on âdown-to-earthâ linguistic matters â nouns and verbs, definite articles and adjectives. David Crystalâs equally excellent Think on my Words is like this. And so is this one.
Books of the second sort sometimes meet with hostile scowls. A common objection is that studying the nuts and bolts of Shakespeareâs masterpieces will detract from their glory. As soon as you start to analyse it, the magic will turn to dust. A closely allied objection (not so hostile perhaps, but equally damning) â is to ask: âWhy bother? What good does it do to study nouns, verbs, articles, adjectives? Will it change your view of Macbethâs crimes to study the tenses that he uses? Or is the sincerity of Romeoâs love revealed by his adjectives?â The next few paragraphs will offer some thoughts on these questions. Before you read them, think about the questions yourself. Is the âmagic to dustâ argument credible? What counter-arguments are there? More generally: what is the point in studying Shakespeareâs language? Does it really tell us something valuable about his work? Or, principally, something about the English language and its development? Why study all this?
Here is what one scientist has to say about the âmagic to dustâ question. He is Richard Feynman, a Nobel prize winner who (among many other things) expanded our understanding of quantum electrodynamics. Here is part of an interview he gave for the BBCâs Horizon programme in 1982:(1)
I have a friend who is an artist and has sometimes taken a view which I donât agree with very well. You hold up a flower and say âlook how beautiful it isâ, and I agree, I say; and heâll say âI as an artist can see how beautiful it is. But you as a scientist take all this apart and it becomes a dull thingâ. And I think that heâs kind of nutty. First of all, the beauty that he sees is available to other people and to me too. I believe, although I may not be quite as refined aesthetically as he is, that I can appreciate the beauty of the flower. At the same time, I see much more about the flower than he sees. I could imagine the cells in there, the complicated actions which also have a beauty. I mean itâs not just beauty at this dimension of one centimetre, itâs beauty at a smaller dimension â the inner structure; also the processes. The fact that the colours in the flower evolved in order to attract insects to pollenate it, is interesting. It means that insects can see the colour. It adds a question: does this aesthetic sense also exist in the lower forms? Why is it aesthetic? All kinds of interesting questions [which the scientistâs] knowledge only adds to the excitement, the mystery and the awe of a flower. It only adds. I donât understand how it subtracts.
But even if you are in sympathy with Feynmanâs argument, the question remains: what is the value of reading about Shakespeareâs language (in the nouns, verbs, articles, adjectives sense)? There is a general argument that goes like this: Shakespeareâs âmediumâ was language; therefore if we want to understand him well, the more we know about the language of his time, and how he used it, the better. But what about the particulars: how exactly will linguistic knowledge help? Here are two concrete examples of how such knowledge might enrich our understanding and appreciation of Shakespeare. The first is to do with sounds and comes from a book dedicated to the study of Shakespearean pronunciation, Kökeritz (1953).(2) It relates to a speech by Jaques, a melancholic character in As You Like It. Wandering in the Forest of Arden, Jaques meets the court jester Touchstone. Something Touchstone says makes Jaques laugh for a whole hour â no mean feat given Jaquesâ melancholic nature. Why? What is the joke? Probably reading the passage will not reveal much. Here is Jaquesâ description of the meeting (AYLI 2.7.20; the he in the first line is Touchstone):
And then he drew a dial from his poke,
And looking on it, with lack-lustre eye,
Says, very wisely, âIt is ten oâclock.â
âThus we may see,â quoth he, âhow the world wags:
âTis but an hour ago since it was nine,
And after one hour more âtwill be eleven,
And so from hour to hour we ripe, and ripe,
And then from hour to hour we rot, and rot,
And thereby hangs a tale.â
The joke? Kökeritz observes that the word hour would have been pronounced like our present-day oar, which would also be the way the word whore would have been pronounced. If you read the passage again, replacing hour with whore, it takes on a quite different, and humorous, air (and perhaps the word tale also assumes a new dimension, but let that be).
The second example is based on the word thou (and the associated forms thee, thy, thine). It means âyouâ (âyourâ, âyoursâ). But the word you is also used in Shakespeare. So what is the difference? When does a Renaissance person use thou, and when you? Perhaps you have learned a language like French, German or Italian where there are two forms of address â like French vous and tu â and where (in very simplistic terms) the second is only used in the singular, and suggests an intimate relationship. The you/thou of Shakespeareâs time is comparable. Selecting which form to use can be extremely complex and express subtle shades of meaning. Look for example at this speech from The Taming of the Shrew (2.1.268). Katherina (the shrew) comments that Petruchio (the one who will âtameâ her) needs to keep himself warm. Go through his reply noting every use of a you and a thou form (the latter including the related words thy and thee). What is the sequence in their use? What can possibly account for the changes from thou to you and vice versa?
Marry, so I mean, sweet Katherine, in thy bed.
And therefore, setting all this chat aside,
Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented
That you shall be my wife; your dowry âgreed on,
And, will you, nill you, I will marry you.
Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn,
For by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,
Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well,
Thou must be married to no man but me,
Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio [disguised as Lucentio]
For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,
And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
Conformable as other household Kates.
Here comes your father. Never make denial,
I must and will have Katherine to my wife.
The sequence is thou â you â thou â you. The shades of meaning expressed by you and thou will be considered in detail in Chapter 5 (Section 5.5). For the moment it suffices to raise the issue, and suggest that an important linguistic distinction is at play here, and that shades of meaning will indeed be missed unless we know something about the uses of you and thou in Shakespeareâs time.
Perhaps these two examples will convince you that knowing about Shakespeareâs language will reveal interesting things about his work. But, you might argue, âis it worth reading a book devoted ...