I've Moved!

Friends, I've begun a new chapter at this site: Blaze with Beauty. My musings there will be less motley. Thank you for reading my ramblings here - it's been fun!

Much love,
Izzy

A Happy Birthday to the Bard!

Dear friends, 

Today is my 23rd birthday, and Shakespeare's 454^th – yay! Now, some of you may recall that last April, I said it was his 402nd; that's because I confused the 400th anniversary of his death (2016) with the 450th anniversary of his birth (2014). Alack, math was never my strong suit. At any rate, here are some amusing Shakespearean memes I found. Enjoy!

- Izzy

"Austen's Pride, a Musical of Pride and Prejudice" - An Article

Note: This is a repost of a piece I wrote two summers ago - I'm reproducing it now because my blog was being contrary with the formatting of the original. 


This summer, I had the delightful privilege of attending a performance of the lovely new musical, Austen’s Pride, at Nazareth College in Rochester, New York (the production was part of the Finger Lakes Musical Theatre Festival's summer season, and my mother and I made the journey from our home down South). It was well worth it; the duo behind the show, Lindsay Warren Baker and Amanda Jacobs, have skillfully woven together two riveting narratives, that of the novel itself, and the story of Jane Austen’s creation of it. They’ve been working on their masterpiece for roughly sixteen years now; stimulated by the profusion of Austen adaptations that came out in the late 1990’s, the ladies set about creating something of their own. As part of their research, they went to England and visited Chawton Cottage, Austen’s home, and were inspired to include the author in their show. 

Since its first performance in 2006, the musical has gone through many changes, and now, Austen has become more than a plot device; she’s a prominent character herself. She propels the play forward, both in her close bond with her sister Cassandra and in her associations with her characters. In the first scene, Jane rushes onstage to tell her beloved sibling that the publishers for Sense and Sensibility want to see more of her work, and together, the pair ponders the prospect of sending the manuscript for a certain First Impressions. Jane is uncertain at first, but with a little nudging from Cassandra, she decides to “give the story a second chance,” and is soon busy with editing her early draft.

The incorporation of Jane and Cassandra distinguishes this adaptation from all others; not only does the audience get glimpses of the sisters’ personal lives and tight-knit relationship, but their interactions influence those of the characters. For example, a comment from Cassandra about marriage for security rather than love prompts Jane to allow Charlotte to marry Mr. Collins. Jane also works alongside her characters; in one of the final scenes, Lady Catherine storms into Darcy’s house in London, fuming that Elizabeth refuses to decline his proposal. When his aunt irately asserts, “I shall not go away till you promise me that you will not marry her,” Darcy declares, “I shall make no promise of the kind.” To the dowager’s outrage, Jane replies, “Lady Catherine! Everybody has a right to marry once in their lives for love if they can.” She then slightly mollifies the mistress of Rosings with a hug. 
Bested on the verbal battlefield, the livid lady departs, and Darcy admits to Austen that he loves Elizabeth in his song “Fine Eyes.” The show boasts an exquisite score, including such jewels as Mrs. Bennet’s hilariously histrionic “My Poor Nerves,” Lydia’s exhilarated “I Can’t Resist a Redcoat,” and Elizabeth’s heartfelt “When I Fall in Love.” The marvelous songs, dazzling dialogue, and the familiar-yet-fresh story combine in a positively irresistible play. 
This truly wonderful show is much more than a charming way to spend an evening - it’s a catalyst for self-evaluation and beneficial change; Lindsay and Amanda hope that their work will “instill an appreciation, admiration, and love of Jane Austen and her genius,” that it will “inspire people to pick up the book and read it,” that audiences will “learn that second chances are precious opportunities,” and learn to take “love and light” into the world, as Jane does. Right now, the talented twosome are busy working on the next steps, since it is a truth universally acknowledged that a musical adaptation of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice must quickly reach Broadway.

Here's the link to the show's site: http://austensprideamusical.com

Their Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/janeaustensprideandprejudice/

And their Twitter: https://twitter.com/p_pmusical

Image: The full cast of the 2016 production - photo credits to Ron Heerkins Jr.

Nell Gwyn's 368th Birthday

Today is Nell Gwyn's 368th birthday - in celebration, here are a few remarks which her contemporaries made about her (because I love first-hand accounts of historical figures and events). First, a quote from Samuel Pepys's diary about her performance in Dryden's The Maiden Queen (Pepys, like many theatergoers, adored her comedic skills):

[Saturday, March 2, 1667] . . . After dinner, with my wife, to the King’s house to see “The Mayden Queene,” a new play of Dryden’s, mightily commended for the regularity of it, and the strain and wit; and, the truth is, there is a comical part done by Nell, which is Florimell, that I never can hope ever to see the like done again, by man or woman. [. . .] But so great performance of a comical part was never, I believe, in the world before as Nell do this, both as a mad girle, then most and best of all when she comes in like a young gallant; and hath the notions and carriage of a spark the most that ever I saw any man have. It makes me, I confess, admire her. (Source)

Here's an excerpt from The Maiden Queen, in which the roguish Celadon (played by Nell's then-lover, the actor Charles Hart) attempts to guess the fair Florimell's features behind her mask. I find this an intriguing passage because it gives a detailed description of Nell's looks (playwrights, like Dryden, would often tailor their parts to a certain performer): 

Flo. What kind of beauty do you like?

Cel. Just such a one as yours.

Flo. What's that?

Cel. Such an oval face, clear skin, hazel eyes, thick brown eye-brows, and hair as you have, for all the world.

[. . .]

Cel. A turned up nose, that gives an air to your face:—Oh, I find I am more and more in love with you!—a full nether lip, an out-mouth, that makes mine water at it; the bottom of your cheeks a little blub, and two dimples when you smile: For your stature, 'tis well; and for your wit, 'twas given you by one that knew it had been thrown away upon an ill face.—Come, you're handsome, there's no denying it. (Source)

This passage from her biography written by Charles Beauclerk, her direct descendant, contains a charming poem written in her praise by one of the other noted playwrights:

The year 1668 was probably Nell's busiest yet in the theatre, as more playwrights were inspired to write for her. The results, however, were not always worthy of her talent. In the autumn she played Lysette in Richard Flecknoe's Damoiselles à la Mode. The play was an abject failure and, according to Pepys, 'when they came to say it would be acted again to-morrow, both he that said it, Beeson, and the pit fell a-laughing, there being this day not a quarter of the pit full'. Flecknoe himself was nevertheless charmed by Nell's performance and sent her a poem entitled 'On a Pretty Little Person' as a mark of his appreciation: 
She is pretty, and she knows it; 
She is witty, and she shows it; 
And besides that she's so witty, 
And so little and so pretty, 
Sh'has a hundred other parts 
For to take and conquer hearts. 
’Mongst the rest her air's so sprightful, 
And so pleasant and delightful, 
With such charms and such attractions 
In her words and in her actions, 
As whoe'er do hear and see, 
Say there's none do charm but she. 
But who have her in their arms,
Say sh'has hundred other charms, 
And as many more attractions 
In her words and in her actions. 
But for that, suffice to tell ye, 
’Tis the little pretty Nelly. (From Nell Gwyn: A Biography)

And finally, my favorite quote about her, from her friend, the authoress Aphra Behn:  [Y]ou never appear but you glad the hearts of all that have the happy fortune to see you, as if you were made on purpose to put the whole world into good Humour, whenever you look abroad [. . .]  (Source) 

There you have it, gentle readers - Happy Birthday, dear, merry Nelly! :) 

Pierre Choderlos de Laclos' 276th Birthday

Today, Pierre Ambroise François Choderlos de Laclos was born in 1741, in Amiens, France. He served as a soldier, but is best known for his novel, Les Liaisons Dangereuses (in English, Dangerous Liaisons). This book ruffled quite a few feathers among both the aristocrats and the bourgeoisie when it was first published in April, 1782 - people were unsure of what to make of it. Many deemed it scandalous due to its sexual content, others couldn't put it down for the same reason, and some readers took moral lessons from the tale. I believe the latter response is what Laclos desired; in his "Editor's Preface" (he pretends that his work of fiction is a compilation of actual letters, which was a common authorial device at that time), he explicitly states: It seems to me, at any rate, that it is to render a service to morals, to unveil the methods employed by those whose own are bad in corrupting those whose conduct is good; and I believe that these letters will effectually attain this end. There will also be found the proof and example of two important verities which one might believe unknown, for that they are so rarely practiced: the one, that every woman who consents to admit a man of loose morals to her society ends by becoming his victim; the other, that a mother is, to say the least, imprudent who allows any other than herself to possess the confidence of her daughter. Young people of either sex might also learn from these pages that the friendship which persons of evil character appear to grant them so readily is never aught else but a dangerous snare, as fatal to their happiness as to their virtue. These messages are exemplified in the novel; the Marquise de Merteuil and the Vicomte de Valmont wreak havoc on their prey. Valmont's virtuous, devoutly religious conquest, Madame de Tourvel, dies of a broken heart after having the misfortune to fall in love with the libertine, and Cécile, Merteuil's teenaged cousin, returns to the convent where she was educated to become a nun, in order to atone for her fornication with Valmont (in which she was encouraged by Merteuil, her confidant). Her first (chaste and respectable) lover, the Chevalier Danceny, becomes a monk to make reparation for his fling with Merteuil; through their decisions to enter religious life, I believe Laclos was indicating that God's redeeming love provides solace for those who have transgressed. At the conclusion, Cécile's mother, Madame de Volanges, laments: Who is there who would not shudder, if he were to reflect upon the misfortunes that may be caused by even one dangerous acquaintance! And what troubles would one not avert by reflecting on this more often! What woman would not fly before the first proposal of a seducer! What mother could see another person than herself speak to her daughter, and tremble not! But these tardy reflections never come until after the event; and one of the most important of truths, as it is, perhaps, one of the most generally recognized, lies stifled and void of use in the whirlpool of our inconsequent manners. 
Because of her status-absorbed mindset, Volanges has spent much of the novel warning her friend Tourvel about Valmont, when she should have been developing a close relationship with her daughter; she keeps herself distant from Cécile, arranges her marriage, and in the meantime allows her to confide in Merteuil, who secretly intends to ruin her. Tourvel ignores the older woman's cautions and Cécile is eventually corrupted, so Volanges is left to mourn for both. However, the villains don't get away with their atrocities - Danceny kills Valmont in a duel, and Merteuil flees Paris in utter disgrace when her crimes are revealed. Madame de Rosemonde, Valmont's aunt, makes this astute comment on the whole situation: [W]ere one enlightened as to one's true happiness, one would never seek it outside the bounds prescribed by religion and the laws. To sum up, the main lesson is: if you manipulate others for your own gain, behave in a self-serving manner, and/or pursue pleasure as an end in itself, your sins will eventually entrap you. With its compelling plot and evocative characters, the novel offers us this truth and urges us to take stock of our own hearts so that we may lead lives of integrity.
Happy Birthday, cher Laclos!

Note: The quotes are from the Barnes & Noble Classics edition of Les Liaisons Dangereuses.
Image: A portrait of Laclos, attributed to Joseph Ducreux.

The 224th Anniversary of Marie Antoinette's Death

Yesterday, in 1793 (two-hundred and twenty-four years ago), Marie Antoinette was executed by guillotine. To honor her memory, I've written an acrostic poem, Marie Antoinette, R. (R. stands for Reine, the French word for "Queen," and I added the extra letter because it completed the poem's final stanza). I hope you enjoy it!

Marie Antoinette, R.

Most noble, regal Antoine (though

An angel you were not),

Really, you couldn’t stem the tide of

Ire rich and poor so wrought.

Even though you did your best,

Acting in your queenly role,

Not a soul stirred in that crowd

To save from death your gentle soul.

On a sunny morn in May,

In hope, you met your tender groom.

New friendship bloomed in time to love, which

Eased you both in your sad doom.

To some, you were a sinful jade;

To others, a saint, without a doubt - 

Except you were neither ideal nor vile, but

Rather, a lady of virtuous clout.

Image: Antoinette strolling through the Petit Trianon’s gardens with her two oldest children Marie Thérèse and Louis-Joseph, by Adolf Ulrik Wertmüller, in 1785.

A Triple Birthday!

Today good old Shakespeare turned 401, and I am 22! In addition, Emily, my friend and fellow ensemble member in The Marriage of Figaro, is 21 - 'tis most delightful! We've started dress rehearsals for said opera here at Samford - tonight's the first one, and I'm typing this as I sit in a corset, brocade skirt, matching bodice, and lace-trimmed ruffled cap - I'm living my 18th century dream. :) Here's a link to the Folger Shakespeare Library, if you're inclined to revel in some of the Bard's beauties: Folger Shakespeare Library.

And here's my favorite production of Figaro, from 1973 (it's in the original Italian, but ours is an English translation): 

Image: Much Ado About Nothing by Kinuko Y. Craft