8. Antony Sher as Shylock in the trial scene, intoning his (invented) Hebrew sacrificial prayer.
Were physical characteristics an important part of your creation of the character?
AS: In researching the Jewish ghetto in Venice (Jan Morris' book on that city was particularly useful), I was interested to learn that a significant part of its population was Turkish. Bill Alexander and I became drawn to the idea that it wasn't just Shylock's religion that made him very foreign, very alien, to the Christians. Since they were being played in RP British accents, Shylock developed a very Turkish sound, and look--with long hair and beard, and a large purple djellaba--and a heavy, almost brutal walk. I thought of him as a simple, relatively uneducated man, a peasant turned businessman, used to receiving blows, and now ready to return them.
HG: I feel very strongly that in the writing there's a different rhythm in the way he speaks. There were not a lot of Jews in London when Shakespeare wrote the play, so they were a little bit alien, but there were a great many foreigners with foreign accents. London in that sense was like Venice: it benefited from them, even though there was a huge, fearful mentality and a terror of being at war. I think one of the things that hit me were the sounds of the writing and the rhythm of the writing; there's a rhythmic shape and pattern. In our production, the sensibility was to put it pre-Holocaust, otherwise it becomes unwatchable and in bad taste. Trevor found a way to put it in Europe, in Vienna or in Budapest; it wasn't explicit, probably in the late 1920s, early 1930s, before things had really got out of hand. And one of the lovely ideas that Trevor had which affected the social, political milieu was that Shylock, when he went off for dinner, went off to meet Antonio to seal the deal, met them at the cabaret, which is really louche and sexy and naughty, and which for Shylock is utterly abhorrent and uncomfortable. And there was Gobbo, whom he has just sacked, on the microphone saying "My master's an old Jew ..." Once again, there it is: all the hatred, from his own servant, who's now dressed a little better, working for Bassanio, whom Shylock has just lent a load of money to. It's a wonderful irony and a great idea of Trevor's.
Did historical research into the status of Jews in Shakespeare's time play a part in your preparation of the role?
AS: No, though I knew of course that Jews were officially banned from England at the time Shakespeare wrote the play. So his fully rounded and compassionate view of Shylock came either from encounters with Jews elsewhere, or, more likely, his fully rounded and compassionate view of humanity in general.
HG: The key thing is to look at what's in the text before you start to interpret, but I was overwhelmingly struck when doing research for the play by the events surrounding Roderigo Lopez. Lopez was hung, drawn and quartered, and let's remind ourselves that that is hanging somebody until they're not quite dead and then viscerally ripping them to bits and cutting out their belly, all in front of a shrieking, laughing crowd at Tyburn in Marble Arch. The Elizabethan love of watching these live events, even though there might be horror and distaste, was also there in the thrill of bear-baiting and cock-fighting, and, as we know only too well, is not that far from our own society. There's both the visceral impact of that and also the social and political events in London, in a country at war with Spain, having recently dealt with the Armada. It brought something out. And it's much too simplistic to say that it's just prejudice or hatred. Lopez was a man who wasn't a leader, but who was very close to the queen, who had permission to touch the royal fruitless private parts, he was one of only twenty-odd people given the Fellowship of the Royal College of Surgeons, he was at the highest level of court. He was a man whom the queen became very close to, but who was hated by the Earl of Essex and all these people; he was what they called a marrano, which means "pig," converso, somebody they thought was a secret Jew, although I suspect that he had given up his religion. All of these things bespeak in the court, and in society, a fear of the foreigner, especially in an island that was at war with Spain and frightened of the large numbers of exiled Portuguese (Spain had conquered it and the Portuguese king had fled to London)--Lopez being Portuguese and Jewish: a double alien! It is true, from research I found, that Lopez was trying to do deals and was acting as a fixer (not the same thing as a spy) for his patients, the queen and Lord Burleigh. There was fierce rivalry between Essex and Burleigh (Essex pro-war with Spain; Burleigh a peace-seeker). Essex basically tortured this seventy-year-old man [Lopez] until he got what he wanted out of him. Essex took him to his own private home to get outside of the city walls because Elizabeth didn't want him to be tortured, she believed in him. I think that all of that going on at court, where Shakespeare was already by then performing in various companies, inspired me as much as the detailed current events and specific textual events in the play. I personally find all that background really helpful and useful.
I found and read the papal bulls which from the Inquisition onward had been issuing orders to kill Jews. In Pisa and many different places they put them on bonfires and burned them. Venice didn't--why? Because Venice understood that they needed these people, because they spoke many languages so they could speak to the traders and pedlars and businessmen from all over the world. So there is built into the play that sense of mercantile life. Before I've even spoken a word, I find all that stuff really exciting. Context and history, personal and emotional. The signals and the clues are all from the text, never in spite of it, but they lead you back and then you can fill out what Shakespeare has done. I always find it fascinating how Shakespeare adapted and changed his sources, in this case Il Pecorone. The changes he made are very revealing: what did he keep, and what didn't he? The fact that he pushes the trial to go in a particular direction, and Antonio forces Shylock to become a Christian and pushes the events of the play away from the original story, tells us that Shakespeare is interested in certain things. All of those things are very important. A lot of people say, "This is all directors' stuff." Absolute nonsense. Any thinking, feeling, intelligent human being wants to understand the context, and I think that division between acting and directing is just ridiculous.
What was your take on the accusation that the representation of the part is anti-Semitic?
AS: I think it is as wrong to call Merchant anti-Semitic as it is to call Othello racist. The two plays examine these issues--anti-Semitism and racism--in a tough and uncomfortable way, but without ever condoning or promoting them. Yet Merchant's flaw remains its silly Act 5, which seems to round off the dark and complex story in a totally trivial way. It's one of those rare occasions in Shakespeare where a modern audience--and specifically a post-Holocaust audience--has great difficulty accepting what he's written. A clear case, I think, of a play hijacked by history.
HG: In very simple language, I don't agree with it. I think it perpetuates an image to some degree, but is showing the Welsh and the Scotsmen in Henry V anti-Welsh or anti-Scot? No, it shows the rivalries, the cliches, the stereotypes, and the bitterness in the Elizabethan world, when everybody was about to go to war. I think what is, to me, overwhelming is that Shakespeare goes out of his way to show Shylock in a personal context, which doesn't explain or completely exonerate in any way his behavior, but it does contextualize it, and it does humanize it, and he gives him, like he gives Queen Katherine in Henry VIII, a public trial. If you think of the big trial scenes they usually give the foreigner a great voice actually. He doesn't allow us just to laugh at Shylock, although there is some of that, or to show him merely in his appalling behavior; he also says that this is a man with knowledge and insight and reason to think and feel and behave in the way that he does. There are certain key choices that you've got to make if you play this role. What's the learning curve? I think that he may be in very few scenes, but he has absolutely huge triggers before and during them. I believe he finds it not so easy to actually kill someone. Some people become so psychopathic in their hate that they can just stab a knife into somebody without even thinking about it. I don't believe he's become that, because all of his
other self is justice, decency, control; and although he's got to a point of doing something appalling, I believe he has that moment of doubt. It might only be a millisecond, but he does.
Hamlet is not always played as peculiarly Danish, Macbeth does not always have a Scottish accent ... could you imagine a production in which Shylock is not peculiarly Jewish?
AS: Shylock's Jewishness is far more critical than Macbeth's Scottishness or Hamlet's Danishness; one half of Merchant's plot is fueled by the hatred between the Christians and the Jews. The question is, how Jewish to make him? I believe very Jewish--without, of course, spilling over into caricature. In Trevor Nunn's 1999 National Theatre production, set in 1930s Europe, Henry Goodman played a very Jewish Shylock with total authenticity, and the result was superb. You both believed in him as a three-dimensional man, yet also understood that when the Christians looked at him they saw one of those Nazi cartoons of verminous Jews. At the other extreme, there was Jonathan Miller's 1970 National Theatre production with Laurence Olivier. Backed by his Jewish director, Olivier chose to play a totally assimilated Jew, a sophisticated Disraeli-type figure (the setting was Victorian). I understood their point--the enemies of the real Disraeli (who wasn't just assimilated, but had actually converted to Christianity) often reverted to anti-Semitic abuse when they were on the attack--yet it was hard to believe that this particular Shylock had ever been spat upon. And it is this ugly, visceral little act which is, I believe, crucial to his side of the story. But how it relates to the other side, Portia's fairytale adventures, this simply mystifies me. When we began work on our RSC production in 1987, I was convinced that Bill Alexander, Deborah Findlay (Portia), and I would find a way of marrying the two halves, and yet when we finished two years later, after the Stratford and Barbican runs, I then felt it was impossible. I look forward to being proved wrong one day ...
HG: Now I know it's a multilayered issue, but yes I can. See, there's a principle here. If you say no black person should ever play Shylock or no white person should ever play Othello, to me you can't do theater. What's the point of it? Being the other, undergoing their experience, that is the journey of theater. Now of course we live in an age where, thank heavens, black people can play kings of England and that's great, but we have to acknowledge that in the context of the time those prejudices did exist. It's wonderful that we're now growing as human beings and we can be color blind, but the plays do come from an era when people were not. It's as if Shakespeare could only have written about people living in Stratford-upon-Avon or London--it's a very far-reaching point, this. How could he write about all these different cultures? He can only imagine them. He might see some at court when he went to perform at Whitehall, he might have met some at Stratford Town Hall when his dad was hosting events. But then he captures those people and gives us characters. If he's got the right to write them, then we've got the right to act them. The problem is, does Shylock have to be the cliched version of what a Jew is? Of course not. That's why I fully accepted the version of Olivier, even though it lacked certain things. Yes, the play does take on added (I'm not being naive) intensity and emotional authenticity and veracity if you feel in its context, as we did in Europe in the 1930s: that felt right. But if you imagine Jonathan Miller or Freddie Raphael or hundreds of modern Jewish writers or eminent lawyers or doctors or journalists, etc., etc., being Shylock, they might just speak like I'm speaking now. The issue is, do they have to have a funny accent, do they have to use their hands in a certain way ...?
That's the very dangerous thing with Shylock and people bend over backward to try and negotiate that. I went out of my way to show that he lives very religiously, he's devout. But anybody can do that research, you don't have to be Jewish to do that. If I'm playing Macbeth I'll look into understanding the things about his life, and his wife, and his society, and Scots, and the hatred of England, and lairds and lords. So yes I can. The question is the quality that it would bring to the work. And the trouble with Shylock is that he embraces and encourages--even tempts--extreme ways of playing him. Or you fall into the other trap of desperately trying not to be Jewish, make it absolutely, completely modern, just somebody who is wronged and is completely like all the other people in his community. It's a fascinating subject, and context and period is absolutely crucial in this play--more than in any other play, I think. We must remember that the Nazis did dozens and dozens of productions of this play during the era because they thought it was useful, but they cut out all things that were humane. Shakespeare didn't, he put them in.
* Blood libel: an allegation, recurring during the thirteenth through sixteenth centuries, that Jews were killing Christian children to use their blood for the ritual of making unleavened bread (matzah). A red mold which occasionally appeared on the bread started this myth. From The Jewish Virtual Library (www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/index.html).
* Lord Alfred Douglas was the lover of the famous Irish writer Oscar Wilde, and went on to marry heiress and poet Olive Eleanor Custance.
SHAKESPEARE'S CAREER
IN THE THEATER
BEGINNINGS
William Shakespeare was an extraordinarily intelligent man who was born and died in an ordinary market town in the English Midlands. He lived an uneventful life in an eventful age. Born in April 1564, he was the eldest son of John Shakespeare, a glove maker who was prominent on the town council until he fell into financial difficulties. Young William was educated at the local grammar in Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire, where he gained a thorough grounding in the Latin language, the art of rhetoric, and classical poetry. He married Ann Hathaway and had three children (Susanna, then the twins Hamnet and Judith) before his twenty-first birthday: an exceptionally young age for the period. We do not know how he supported his family in the mid-1580s.
Like many clever country boys, he moved to the city in order to make his way in the world. Like many creative people, he found a career in the entertainment business. Public playhouses and professional full-time acting companies reliant on the market for their income were born in Shakespeare's childhood. When he arrived in London as a man, sometime in the late 1580s, a new phenomenon was in the making: the actor who is so successful that he becomes a "star." The word did not exist in its modern sense, but the pattern is recognizable: audiences went to the theater not so much to see a particular show as to witness the comedian Richard Tarlton or the dramatic actor Edward Alleyn.
Shakespeare was an actor before he was a writer. It appears not to have been long before he realized that he was never going to grow into a great comedian like Tarlton or a great tragedian like Alleyn. Instead, he found a role within his company as the man who patched up old plays, breathing new life, new dramatic twists, into tired repertory pieces. He paid close attention to the work of the university-educated dramatists who were writing history plays and tragedies for the public stage in a style more ambitious, sweeping, and poetically grand than anything that had been seen before. But he may also have noted that what his friend and rival Ben Jonson would call "Marlowe's mighty line" sometimes faltered in the mode of comedy. Going to university, as Christopher Marlowe did, was all well and good for honing the arts of rhetorical elaboration and classical allusion, but it could lead to a loss of the common touch. To stay close to a large segment of the potential audience for public theater, it was necessary to write for clowns as well as kings and to intersperse the flights of poetry with the humor of the tavern, the privy, and the brothel: Shakespeare was the first to establish himself early in his career as an equal master of tragedy, comedy, and history. He realized that theater could be the medium to make the national past available to a wider audience than the elite who could afford to read large history books: his signature early works include not only the classical tragedy Titus Andronicus but also the sequence of English historical plays on the Wars of the Roses.