Courting the Classics: The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare

April 18, 2011 Courting the Classics, Our Programs 1 Comment

By Autumn

If you’ve ever read a fanfic, a chick-lit novel, or seen a chick flick, you’ve most likely seen/read one of the latest iterations of either The Taming of the Shrew or Much Ado About Nothing. Both plays feature strong, witty women, (as do many of Shakespeare’s plays, actually), dissatisfied with the status quo, who eventually come to be ‘tamed’ by the true love of an equally sharp and witty man. Beatrice, the female protagonist in Much Ado About Nothing, has come to be somewhat accepted by feminists, as she loses little of herself in her eventual capitulation to Benedix; Katerina’s eventual fall in The Taming of the Shrew remains more troubling.

The play opens with a quirky framing segment, in which a poor, drunken tinker is taken up by a wealthy man, dressed in fine clothes, and told that he’s a rich man who has been under a delusion of being poor (this as all part of an elaborate joke). As a reader/watcher, we see him change both his manner of address and his manner of speaking when his clothes are changed, and are led to one of Shakespeare’s most famous questions: do the clothes make the man? Unfortunately, there is no corresponding framing end sequence, so though we may suppose that the tinker is eventually disabused of his notion of wealth and tossed back on the street, we don’t know for sure. In any event, in the course of his evening, he is treated to a play by a traveling troupe, and therein lies the meat of this play.

We are taken to Padua, where we meet a father (Baptista) and his two daughters. The elder, Katerina, is headstrong, sharp-tongued, and bitter. The younger, Bianca, is meek and submissive. Though both girls are presented as equally lovely and well-dowered, Katerina has no suitors while her younger sister has two (that we know of). Their father has decreed that Bianca may not wed before Katerina, frustrating Bianca’s suitors, and so the scene is cast for the appearance of Petruchio, a wealthy young man who is set on becoming wealthier. He claims that he will marry anyone with enough money, no matter how off-putting she may be; he is taken up on his boast by the suitors of her sister. After a quick meeting with Baptista, whose friends included Petruchio’s deceased father, Petruchio presses his suit and eventually meets Katerina. In a lightning battle of wits, punctuated by insults and sexual innuendo, she repulses his advances even as he declares he will marry her and she will be tamed. Baptista re-enters, and is boldly told that the marriage is set for the following Sunday. Katerina is strangely mute at this declaration. They are married in a ceremony set to humiliate Katerina, and Petruchio sets about his plot to tame the shrew. Through a combination of withholding sleep and food (all under the guise of being worried for her welfare) and acting as boorishly to others as she has acted in the past, Petruchio slowly brings Katerina around, until by the end of the play, she declares that whatever he says is true (even if it is that the moon is the sun). Katerina’s part ends with a grand soliloquy about love, marriage, and a woman’s true subservient role within both.

Spoiler Inside: The Taming of the Shrew, continued	Select Show
A secondary story is also in play, regarding the marriage of Bianca. While both original suitors are still in the running, their number is joined by Lucentio, another son of a rich man. Through a series of Sharkespearian ‘deceptions by costume’, Lucentio is presented as a tutor for Bianca, his man as Lucentio himself, and one of Petruchio’s men as another tutor. Thus, Lucentio is able to woo Bianca, while his man bargains with Baptista for her hand. Eventually, the jig is up when Lucentio’s father appears and masks must be put aside. The ‘play within a play’ ends as it began: at the home of Baptista. The three newly married men (Hortensio, one of the original suitors, has also wed) compare wives and their likelihood for future felicity. The Taming of the Shrew is a comedy, and as such some latitude must be given for outlandish events and slightly unbelievable occurrences; still, the “taming” of Katerina remains troubling in our current time. Withholding food and sleep, and acts of escalating dominance (culminating in Petruchio forcing her to embrace an old, unfamiliar man–Lucentio’s father, Vincentio–while calling him a “fresh-faced maid”) in the name of love seem abusive in the least. Still, it is wise to look deeper. Shakespeare was a master of social commentary, and used this platform to look straight on at the institution of marriage as a social and financial contract. Gone is the starry-eyed adulation of Romeo and Juliet; Petruchio is a practical man, who acknowledges that money is the basis of marriage in his time. Though Lucentio eventually ends up with Bianca, it is firmly stated by Baptista early in the play that he will wed his daughter to the man who can best care for her; her wishes are expressly not consulted. Even after the church ceremony is conducted in secret, the marriage is not considered valid until blessed by both her father and his (and after the older gentlemen finalise monetary transactions). Katerina, too, is practical. Though she is clearly a shrew, between the lines we are led to see that quality as rising from her treatment and her place in society. She is sharp-tongued, but we’re led to wonder how she couldn’t be so, as she is roundly ignored by the men around her until she jabs out at them. Her sister is clearly the favored child. No one in her household is able to match her wit, but she is not praised for that; she is soundly ostracized. Consider her position: women had no status other than that coming from their father or husband. If her father shunned her, she had nothing. If he kept Bianca from wedding on her account, she became more of a laughingstock and a burden, but if Bianca married first, it meant that Katerina was a lost cause. She couldn’t win. Then came Petruchio. Smart, witty, and most of all unafraid of her, he not only offered her a way out of her dilemma, he insisted upon it. Even if she never learned to love him (which we are clearly meant to believe she does, though that is a part I find hard to believe), she could retain a place in society as a wife, the highest point which a woman could obtain. Petruchio is another story. If he really is as self serving and selfish as he initially appears, this is a very dark comedy, and one has to wonder if his acts really do come from cruelty. This is an instance, like that with Katerina, in which the truth seems to lie between the lines. Though he originally pursues Katerina for greedy reasons, he seems to enjoy their sparring once they meet, and it seems to me that a young man of property would have had other likely pairings in Padua had he wished not to marry Katerina. Though his methods are extreme, in his asides and talks with other characters when she is not around, it seems that he genuinely likes her and wants her to see the happiness possible to her if she will just bend. Many feminists choose to see it as it appears, and as such find this play to be incredibly mysogynistic, especially when Katerina appears to give in fully. Though I see their point, I think Shakespeare can seldom be taken at face value. This play is full of jabs at society and the roles played by rich and poor, master and servant, men and women. As such, I don’t think it is a stretch to see Katerina’s ultimate capitulation as a practical act by a practical woman, undertaken with good humor and clear sight. Otherwise, why would the old man, after being so embraced by Katerina, address them as, “Fair sir, and my merry mistress…” (Act III, Scene V)? At this point, the newly married couple is having fun. He no more expects her to honestly agree with his every word than she actually acted sincerely in her embrace of Vincentio. Can I see that sea change in her and in him happening as quickly as it does? Nope. But the implication is there for those that wish to see it. Comedy, remember? On the whole, I really enjoyed this play, though the ‘taming’ did trouble me a bit. Still, I think Shakespeare achieved his aim of entertaining, all the while passing oh his commentary about love, marriage, and social roles. The final scene is telling: The three new bridegrooms are comparing their brides and how happy their futures might be. Petruchio scoffs at his contemporaries, challenging each to call his bride and see who answers. Lucentio, who married for “love” (or beauty, more likely; he never bothered to learn anything about his wife), calls Bianca. She refuses to come. Hortensio, who married for money and out of boredom, call his wife. She refuses to come. Petruchio, who we are led to believe married Katerina for both her money and her wit (and there is more than a hint of sexual attraction between the two), call his bride. She comes immediately, brings the other wives, and launches into a soliloquy about proper attention to a husband. As an aside, I think this was done purely tongue in cheek, and is often played that way. The lesson: love is not essential to a happy marriage, and money won’t guarantee a man’s felicity in marriage. It is through practicality and a meeting of the minds that happiness is achieved. A fair lesson for us all.

Spoiler Inside: The Taming of the Shrew, continued

Select Show

A secondary story is also in play, regarding the marriage of Bianca. While both original suitors are still in the running, their number is joined by Lucentio, another son of a rich man. Through a series of Sharkespearian ‘deceptions by costume’, Lucentio is presented as a tutor for Bianca, his man as Lucentio himself, and one of Petruchio’s men as another tutor. Thus, Lucentio is able to woo Bianca, while his man bargains with Baptista for her hand. Eventually, the jig is up when Lucentio’s father appears and masks must be put aside. The ‘play within a play’ ends as it began: at the home of Baptista. The three newly married men (Hortensio, one of the original suitors, has also wed) compare wives and their likelihood for future felicity.

The Taming of the Shrew is a comedy, and as such some latitude must be given for outlandish events and slightly unbelievable occurrences; still, the “taming” of Katerina remains troubling in our current time. Withholding food and sleep, and acts of escalating dominance (culminating in Petruchio forcing her to embrace an old, unfamiliar man–Lucentio’s father, Vincentio–while calling him a “fresh-faced maid”) in the name of love seem abusive in the least. Still, it is wise to look deeper. Shakespeare was a master of social commentary, and used this platform to look straight on at the institution of marriage as a social and financial contract. Gone is the starry-eyed adulation of Romeo and Juliet; Petruchio is a practical man, who acknowledges that money is the basis of marriage in his time. Though Lucentio eventually ends up with Bianca, it is firmly stated by Baptista early in the play that he will wed his daughter to the man who can best care for her; her wishes are expressly not consulted. Even after the church ceremony is conducted in secret, the marriage is not considered valid until blessed by both her father and his (and after the older gentlemen finalise monetary transactions).

Katerina, too, is practical. Though she is clearly a shrew, between the lines we are led to see that quality as rising from her treatment and her place in society. She is sharp-tongued, but we’re led to wonder how she couldn’t be so, as she is roundly ignored by the men around her until she jabs out at them. Her sister is clearly the favored child. No one in her household is able to match her wit, but she is not praised for that; she is soundly ostracized. Consider her position: women had no status other than that coming from their father or husband. If her father shunned her, she had nothing. If he kept Bianca from wedding on her account, she became more of a laughingstock and a burden, but if Bianca married first, it meant that Katerina was a lost cause. She couldn’t win. Then came Petruchio. Smart, witty, and most of all unafraid of her, he not only offered her a way out of her dilemma, he insisted upon it. Even if she never learned to love him (which we are clearly meant to believe she does, though that is a part I find hard to believe), she could retain a place in society as a wife, the highest point which a woman could obtain.

Petruchio is another story. If he really is as self serving and selfish as he initially appears, this is a very dark comedy, and one has to wonder if his acts really do come from cruelty. This is an instance, like that with Katerina, in which the truth seems to lie between the lines. Though he originally pursues Katerina for greedy reasons, he seems to enjoy their sparring once they meet, and it seems to me that a young man of property would have had other likely pairings in Padua had he wished not to marry Katerina. Though his methods are extreme, in his asides and talks with other characters when she is not around, it seems that he genuinely likes her and wants her to see the happiness possible to her if she will just bend. Many feminists choose to see it as it appears, and as such find this play to be incredibly mysogynistic, especially when Katerina appears to give in fully. Though I see their point, I think Shakespeare can seldom be taken at face value. This play is full of jabs at society and the roles played by rich and poor, master and servant, men and women. As such, I don’t think it is a stretch to see Katerina’s ultimate capitulation as a practical act by a practical woman, undertaken with good humor and clear sight. Otherwise, why would the old man, after being so embraced by Katerina, address them as, “Fair sir, and my merry mistress…” (Act III, Scene V)? At this point, the newly married couple is having fun. He no more expects her to honestly agree with his every word than she actually acted sincerely in her embrace of Vincentio. Can I see that sea change in her and in him happening as quickly as it does? Nope. But the implication is there for those that wish to see it. Comedy, remember?

On the whole, I really enjoyed this play, though the ‘taming’ did trouble me a bit. Still, I think Shakespeare achieved his aim of entertaining, all the while passing oh his commentary about love, marriage, and social roles. The final scene is telling: The three new bridegrooms are comparing their brides and how happy their futures might be. Petruchio scoffs at his contemporaries, challenging each to call his bride and see who answers. Lucentio, who married for “love” (or beauty, more likely; he never bothered to learn anything about his wife), calls Bianca. She refuses to come. Hortensio, who married for money and out of boredom, call his wife. She refuses to come. Petruchio, who we are led to believe married Katerina for both her money and her wit (and there is more than a hint of sexual attraction between the two), call his bride. She comes immediately, brings the other wives, and launches into a soliloquy about proper attention to a husband. As an aside, I think this was done purely tongue in cheek, and is often played that way. The lesson: love is not essential to a happy marriage, and money won’t guarantee a man’s felicity in marriage. It is through practicality and a meeting of the minds that happiness is achieved.

A fair lesson for us all.

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