Lit Gloss: A Rose By Any Other Name

Lit Gloss: A Rose By Any Other Name

By Crystal Carroll

Copyright © 2015 Crystal Carroll

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Introduction

It's human nature to see or hear a story and frame it according to our own perspective. This may be as simple as imaging who'd you'd cast in the movie of your favourite book. Watching a tragedy and imagine how we'd fix the ending, or taking a train wreck of a comedy and imagining how we'd tragedy it up. We fill in the inner lives of our favourite characters gaping in the background of the stage based on our own life experiences.

It's certainly what William Shakespeare. The original legend of King Lear has Cordelia (spoilers) saving his life and making him king again. Shakespeare added the tragedy. Shakespeare didn't invent the stories of Henry V or Richard III. What he did do was reimagine them in new ways that live on in the plays that we watch and reinterpret with each new production.

Each play has different elements that a given director keeps or tosses out. There are some many things that can inform how one play is staged. The costuming and sets create the space. The way a given actor feels on a given day. The way the audience was feeling on the day they went.

Consider Hamlet. The way the story changes if the lead actor in the role were to be played by someone in their late teens rather than a man in his thirties. How we'd view Ophelia differently if by the very last act before her suicide, she were visibly pregnant. How the meaning of that would change if she were dressed in medieval clothing or modern dress. The way some productions play Claudius as manipulative and power hungry, others as genuinely in love with Gertrude, and others as an inept drunkard. The way emphasis on potential war with Norway changes the play if it's not entirely a family drama.

Then there's the narratives in the margins of the story. Stoppard's Rozencrantz and Gildenstern are Dead brilliantly takes two minor characters and places them at the centre of their own story, and what comes out of that is a completely new way of looking at Hamlet.

Thinking about those margins is something I enjoy doing, and I frequently write stories about different myths or works of literature. These stories form a sort of gloss on the margins of how I think about those stories. I suppose could have called this book Lit Marginalia, but that wouldn't make a pun on lip gloss, and Shakespeare made a lot of, often quite dirty, puns.

The short stories in this collections are retellings of Shakespeare plays about characters in the margins, frequently women. Because let's face it, when all your female characters are played by young boys, the female representation may not be 50% of the population of characters and lines.

A few things before we get started. These stories aren't critical analysis of the plays, which I'm not really qualified to do anyway. But they are part of an active engagement with thinking about the plays. Re-telling a story helps provide a new way of looking of the base material. Like West Side Story looking back to Romeo and Juliet, or Forbidden Planet's retelling of The Tempest.

Now that's said, there's a certain assumption that if you're reading this, you're familiar with the original Shakespeare plays. In many cases, these stories comment on the action of a play and do not retell those stories.

Before each story, I will let you know which play each story is based on, provide some context as to why I wrote it, and a list of characters. Where it seems appropriate, I'll provide warnings, because I want avoid triggering anyone where possible. Warnings will indicate if a story contains triggers like: miscarriage, abortion, rape, brain washing, torture, violence, murder, and suicide. I'll also indicate if a story contains explicit sex scenes between characters and the gender orientation of that pairing.

With some further ado, here's an overview of the stories/plays:

Romeo and Juliet– Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

Perhaps, the story went this way. Perhaps, it went that way. There were a thousand ways the story could have gone and a thousand loves that could have been that did not lead to the vial and a dagger. Perhaps.

The Merchant of Venice- Between First and Second Sleep

For Venetians, it was common enough to visit neighbours after First Sleep and before setting down for Second Sleep. At around midnight, they'd get out of bed from First Sleep, put on their warmest night visiting robes and best night visiting slippers, and step out onto the narrow stone bridges over the canals and cross the cobbled plazas with candles all aglow for a visit. If they didn't want to go out, they'd light the lantern by the door to indicate they were at home to visitors. Venice glowed in the middle of the night during the visiting hour. Night Visiting was one thing, but Night Painting doors was another. Rachel had never heard of such a thing, which meant she definitely had to investigate.

The Tempest– After She Wakes

In the palace she’d grown up in, when Miranda said, I’m hungry, food bustled into the room of its own will. The sheets pulled back on her bed. She wore what she wanted. She slept when she was tired and she ate when she was hungry. She ran when she wanted to run and she was still when she wanted to be still. Milan was not much like that.

The Tempest– Dreams of Paracelsus

Were a gnome of earth to be imprisoned, she'd but smile and wait. The earth was made to wait and slowly shift over millennium. For a salamander of fire, no such thing would ever occur. Her rage would be so instant, so burning, she'd consume any who dared so much as look at her or else die trying. For an undine of water, she'd surge and if barred by one route, she'd seek another. Oh, water could be contained, but whether she turned into vapour, or she froze and melted to crack any surface, she'd be free again. Ariel was a sylph of air.

Midsummer Night's Dream– On Neptune's Yellow Sands

Like a winter blown leaf, Titania drifted to the shores of the Saraswati River where a child threw coloured powder in her face and ran away laughing as if Titania weren't a Queen, as if it weren't the dead of winter and all were gales. As if a fragile human could do magic. There by the Saraswati River perhaps they could.

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar– All Hail

As the Stoic Antiochus of Ascalon had said, Happiness consists in a virtuous life, but it is not independent of external things. It was by this motto that Portia lived her life. The good of the Republic above all else. While the ladies of the Moirai salon had always worked to do more than merely spin and sew and cut the thread.

Hamlet– Ghosts of Elsinore

Ophelia had always been a fool for love and charity. Sighing over the tragic hero, Sigismund, or Lancelot, for all Father would chide her and her brother, Laertes, would make fun. That her foolishness might lead to her ruin was what every lady was told. Yet how could it be so? When she loved her sweet prince and Hamlet certainly made her believe he loved too. How could there be ruin when there was love?

King Lear– Owning Her Own Mistakes and Moving On

There was no Queen in the Queen's bower. She'd long ago died. There was no King on the throne. He'd given it up to be Mothered by his daughters. That left only a Kingdom with holes in the middle. Even the Fool could see war was coming. Goneril was no fool. She could regret the coming war. But with the memory of her mother's chides in her ear, she'd ever press on. After all the stars have no feet to guide us to the deeds we do.

As You Like It– Love Thee and I

Celia's feelings were not new in the origin. They were not the moment of a chance meeting in a bucolic dell or in a marble hall. No, these feelings were the result of years of earnest study of her cousin's most deserving nature. It were easy to divine a divine nature to a stranger. Her most beloved cousin, was no divine. She snored a tiny noise in her throat. She had a wicked temper and a more cleverly wicked humour. Her jests some betimes could sting. Yet, these feelings not asked for, and not desired, they had grown clever weeds in Celia's heart that then bloomed into brilliant flowers.

Twelfth Night– Carnivale

In the time of Carnivale, the good men and women of Illyria were wont to put on masks and take on the costume of other fates. The Duke and Duchess of Illyria were wanton in this custom more than most.

Othello– There are Five Lights

The very first thing that Iago said to Emelia after they were wed was, The sun is shining very brightly in the sky. As this was their wedding night, she replied, What do you mean? That is the moon and stars. It's dark out. Emelia didn't know to shiver then when Iago stroked her cheek and said, No, My Love, it is the sun. Then again, she hardly knew the man to whom she'd been wed.

Henry VI Part 1– The Journey of the Paladin of the Artistic Heart

Rene would far rather have been writing his epic poem The Journey of the Paladin of the (figure out the right words later) Heart, but the English were invading every garden party, dropping bottles of cider, throwing the food away as too flavoured and shouting. So much shouting. It made it hard to think. There was also the matter of his ransom payments to the Duke of Burgundy, which that Duke wanted to collect. The Holy Maid, who wanted to save France. Rene's Mother, who hadn't married her daughter to Charles so that daughter wouldn't be Queen. Rene's daughter Marguerite, who really ought not to be born yet, but who could resist the laws of Aristotelian dynamics, or the Pope's Fashion Police? They will get you if you cross them. So not a nurturing environment for an artist, but art will on.

Much Ado About Nothing– These Three Things Abide

When Beatrice was born, she was blessed by three fairies. With a clever tongue and a soft heart and laughter. This stood her in good stead when she was nine and went to Hell. It was also of some use when she was eighteen, had her heart broken and went to Purgatory. Didn't hurt the rest of her life either. For the triple blessings and tripled magic, it didn't really stop with that first blessing.

Overview: Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

Story Source: Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, Midsummer Night's Dream.

Summary: Perhaps, the story went this way. Perhaps, it went that way.

There were a thousand ways the story could have gone and a thousand loves that could have been that did not lead to the vial and a dagger.

Perhaps.

Why: There's this moment watching the play where I always think, Wait, that's your plan. This is a bad plan. And so it proves.

What came out of thinking about that is a sort of spiralling narrative of other paths Juliet could have taken. Other choices and other decisions. This isn't so much a fix-it story as an exploration of possibilities.

Pairings: Juliet/Romeo, Juliet/Other Male Character

Warnings: Oblique reference to a miscarriage and heterosexual sex.

Persons of the Story:

Juliet, a lady of Verona

Roadside Lady, Titania, Queen of the Fairies

Peaseblossom, a fairy

Cobweb, a fairy

Way station keeper, a woman of Verona

The Pirate Captain, a pirate with a liking for music

Rosaline, Juliet's cousin

Mother Superior, the head of a nunnery in Verona

Romeo, Juliet's lover

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

Perhaps it went like this.

Juliet stared at the vial in her hand and she thought to herself, Is faking my own death really the way to go here?

She wrote a long rambling letter to her mother and her father. In it she listed her grievances and they were many. She underlined the ones wherein in particular she had been grieved against. She underscored deeply. She cut hers thumb and sealed it in blood to let them know how serious she was.

She put on some page's clothes and, dressed as a boy, she climbed down the balcony. For what Romeo might climb up, might not Juliet climb down?

She took with her a lute and what money she had and set off down the road. After she had been walking some time, her feet hurt, she had a blister, and she despaired of reaching Mantua.

As she limped, she came down the hill and saw a party of ladies just off of the road. They were feasting by moonlight. They had a fire that looked very warm. She approached them and bowed before the great lady at the centre of the feast. She said, Oh, great lady, if I play for a time, would you let me sit by your fire?

The great lady's hair spilled in Titian red curls and her skin sparkled as if with tiny fairy lights. She laughed. We welcome all musicians here in our company, little one. She waved to the fire.

Juliet sat by the fire and she played a love song for that was all that was in her heart.

The great lady called out, Peaseblossom, bring this child wine for love is in the air.

Peaseblossom brought Juliet rich wine and she drank it.

She sat by the fire and she played a love song for that was what swelled in her heart.

The great lady called out, Cobweb, bring this child sweet food for love is in the air.

Cobweb brought Juliet sweet food and she ate it.

Juliet played for a long time. She played every love song that she knew until the great lady cried out, Enough. You are breaking my heart. Come sit beside me and watch my ladies entertain us.

Juliet sat beside the great lady. She drowsed with the rich wine and the rich food. She saw wonderful things. She saw lights consume lights and things be made to appear and disappear. The night stretched long. The great lady kept her near her throughout the long night as the stars appeared to wheel above them in the sky.

Finally, Juliet slept.

When she woke, she was alone in a the centre of a circle of mushrooms all covered in dew. She laughed at herself and went on her way. But the road had changed overnight. It was now covered in black stone with a yellow line down the centre.

Great metal chariots raced down it. She inquired at a way-station along the road and they looked at her. A woman asked, Are you in a play?

Juliet was not in a play. Except it seemed as she glanced at the broadsheets that were on display at the way-station that she had slept some five hundred years in that field.

She wept and cursed fairy wine.

That is perhaps what might have happened.

What also might have happened is as she walked down the road, she did not leave it for the camp with its fire. She kept walking all the night through, because what was a blister on her toe to love.

As she walked, the road curved down along the sea. Perhaps she was overtaken by a group of pirates. A pirate with a braided beard said, What have you there, boy?

She said, Nothing but a few coins, which you may take, and my lute, which I beg of you leave me. For by it I make my way in the world. It was true. She fully intended to help Romeo support them by playing music.

The lead pirate, a swarthy fellow with a hook for a hand, but with a gentlemanly way about him said, We will take your coins and your lute.

She fell to her knees. Please spare my life. I love someone as I have breath in my body. He is the most beautiful boy in all the world.

The lead pirate waved his hook. Ah, it's good to have something to live for. I will take you as my prisoner. I need someone to accompany me when I play my dulcimer.

So they took her on board their ship and she was their prisoner. Their captain had spoken truthfully. He did play upon a dulcimer and wanted someone to play with.

Some months after joined the crew, she was sick with love and even sicker when lost the child she and Romeo had created on their wedding night.

Even when she was better, every day she begged to be with the one she loved. Every day, the Captain would glare at her and tell her to pick up her lute.

When they were not playing, the Captain had her serving as his cabin boy, for she did not feel it proper to betray her true sex. He had her to sleep in a bunk over his own that she entered by way of a ladder, and would he speak with her long hours during the night watches. He may have been a pirate, but he had read extensively, and seen much of the world.

They sailed seas rough and calm. Captured ships full of gold and raced ahead of naval fleets. At the Captain's side, she saw the green spark that occurs when the water is still. She saw lights in the sky when they sailed farther north than she had ever been. She ran to carry the Captain's commands as white whales battled great creatures with tentacles that made the ocean roar.

They sailed south to blue waters where the Captain said, Julio, for that was the name she used aboard ship, you can join the lads swimming if you like.

Through all of this, she clung to her boy's clothes. She shook her head and did not swim for to do so would have betrayed her sex.

Every day she would ask to be released to be with the one she loved. But the Captain would not let her go, because he was a pirate who loved music.

It seemed as if years went by. She had grown several inches and the Captain joked that she'd grow whiskers soon enough. She told him, That will take some doing, sir, and played a new melody on the lute.

By the time that she had finished with growing, she could not have said what Romeo looked like for some time had passed and she had only known him for a brief time. She'd have looked in the Captain's log, but she was afraid to know how many years it had been.

She cursed herself as fickle, because the face that came to mind when she thought of love had a very different cast.

The morning came that she did not ask to be released.

The Captain said, You haven't asked to be released today. Well then, get it over with. It's like waiting for my morning's tea. I find I cannot start my day without it.

No, Captain, I haven't asked today. She glanced at him and smiled. Even though she was wed to another, she kissed him, which he returned in kind.

As things progressed, there was some surprise on his part when he exclaimed. You're not a boy at all!

She pulled away. Is this a problem?

No, no problem. He said and proved it to both their satisfaction.

Some time later, they changed course across the sea towards a new land beneath a shining star.

Perhaps that may have been what happened.

It may also be that Juliet never even headed down the road to Mantua.

She may have gone up to the nunnery where her cousin, Rosaline, was deep in thought with her herbs. Rosaline hugged her cousin and said, You can ask for sanctuary here. I will speak with the Mother Superior. You're not the first to come here to escape a hateful marriage. Though I'm surprised they'd arrange it so soon after Tybalt's murder. Juliet agreed by crying.

Juliet took sanctuary with her cousin while her parents raged at the nunnery's gate. The Mother Superior was kind. She was firm. She said to Juliet's parents, Your daughter has chosen to be a bride of Christ and not of man.

Juliet was ashamed as her belly curved outward with the sign that she was pregnant. Rosaline sighed when she realized it. Juliet was quick to say, I married Romeo first. This child will be born in wedlock.

Rosaline sighed again. You have married Romeo, who swore he loved me, and swore he loved you, and now lives in Padua with his landlord's daughter.

Rosaline held Juliet in her arms as she cried. Rosaline kept Juliet's secret. All through the long months, she protected Juliet and saw to it that no one guessed.

She kept her close to her in the Herbarium. She taught Juliet during that time too. She read to her from Hildegard of Bingen's Physica. She taught her to understand its secrets. They played together on lute and viol their own variations of Hildegard of Bingen's Symphonia armoniae celestium revelationum. Rosaline spoke to Juliet about what it meant to Rosaline to be a bride of Christ. She spoke with her of the idea of viriditas, of greenness as a reconciliation of the earthly and the heavenly. At first, it seemed cold comfort to Juliet, as she had to hide the ever growing swell of her body, she took some comfort from being among the growing things in the garden.

Rosaline was with Juliet when she gave birth in secret to a sweet girl. Rosaline took the child then. She took it and abandoned it at the gate to the nunnery. She waited three or five breaths and then discovered the child who had been so heartlessly abandoned.

She took the child to the Mother Superior and said, This child has been abandoned at our gates. I found her there. Do you think it is right that we should raise this girl here?

The