They don't know we know they know we know

I've just got back from a wonderful, wonderful lecture given by Oliver Ford Davies*, entitled 'Did Gertrude Know? Some problems with performing Shakespeare'. I was utterly entranced by the whole thing, for three main reasons:

Firstly, Oliver himself. What a charming man! Stumbling across the lecture while browsing the vast selection on offer (methinks I shall be making good use of them in the coming weeks), I recognised Davies' name and face from his role as the Polonius to David Tennant's Hamlet, a production I was lucky enough (or unlucky enough, depending on your Tennant-feelings!) to see a few years ago. I've not been fortunate enough to see him in any other theatre roles, but I am definitely going to try in future - he seems a warm, intelligent and kind soul, with the kind of deep knowledge of his subject matter that only a pure passion could have motivated. His voice is measured yet commanding, and he wisecracked and witted his way through an hour which seemed to fly by.

Secondly - daft as it sounds - I understood! I've never been a slavish scholar of Shakespeare; while I studied and loved many of his plays throughout school, I don't share the same encyclopedic knowledge of his work as so many wonderful academics and theatregoers do. However, I do think him - in short - a genius. I'm a novice fan - one who watches and reads as much as she can, and is left in constant awe by his mastery of language** and character, his wit and his tenderness, and his love of people and their eccentricities.This past year has seen me pretty much overdose on any Shakespeare production I can get my eyes on (to turn an odd phrase), and while the nuances discovered by line-to-line study may be lost on me, I've loved broadening my Shakey horizons - and, thus, I adored this lecture. When Davies spoke of Gertrude and Petruchio and Edgar, I knew them - I knew the characters, as played by various actors, and I knew their stories. I 'got' the jokes, the asides, and wasn't left baffled by some of the matters discussed - which I might have been several years ago. As I said, I by no means claim to be an expert (far, FAR from it), but goodness it felt marvellous to be engaged by a Shakespeare discussion, one which I found compelling and exciting. I bloody love Shakespeare, and this reminded me exactly why.

Thirdly, the theme of the lecture itself was one which really seemed to resonate with me and my sensibilities. Davies spoke on the ambiguity in Shakespeare's work, and how a lack of explanation can result in endless frustration for an actor. Did Gertrude know she was married to a murderer? She can be played either way, and the effects of the choice can echo through the entire show. So, so many character choices and motivations are obscured in Shakespeare's work, and others' too, in what Davies termed 'stragetic opacity'. But the thing that got me most was his attitude to this - speaking as an actor, one might see him sympathise with the plight of the unknown character (which, to an extent, he of course did). But he also rejoiced. His closing remarks, while I can't recall the exact words, expressed the sentiment 'Shakespeare left it open to you - enjoy!', which absolutely warmed my heart.

So many times - whether it be deciding on a linguistic theory with which to side, or a religious doctrine, if any, to which to adhere - I have thought myself stupid, frustrating or inferior for just not knowing. To be undecided - politically, spiritually, or any other -ally - is bad, wrong, silly, naïve, lazy, foolish, and many more pejoratives. Yet, sometimes, I find myself wanting to scream 'isn't it okay to just not know?' - why does everything have to be defined, solid and immovable? I appreciate the merits of surety, of course - it would be nonsensical not to - but sometimes I just like to bask in not quite knowing for sure, and I wish it were more acceptable to do so. Not-knowing brings discussion, debate and learning, while stagnated, unchangeable opinions can occasionally be a breeding ground for dogma and intimidation. Maybe that's why I enjoy learning so much - I don't know, and therefore I want someone with more information to tell me things so I can start to know a little better.

I appreciate that I have extrapolated the themes of Oliver's lecture to a preposterous level of abstraction, and will therefore stop typing, but - as with many things - it just made me feel all the feelings, so I thought I'd put them somewhere. Oliver Ford-Davies has written a couple of books about his acting life and the craft itself, and, while I haven't read them myself, if they're half as engaging and entertaining as his lecture, then I'd thoroughly recommend them.

"Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity." ~Gilda Radner

*Witnessed a fellow saying 'man, this guy looks just like the guy who played the Archbishop of Canterbury in Johnny English'. Yeah, that was him, idiot. (You might think 'idiot' a strong choice of word, but the guy then went on to tell his friend that they had special, reserved seating, and thus would be away from the 'plebs', so I am more than content to go with such a derogatory term. What a dick.)

**Me being me, I am particularly enamoured with Shakespeare's language, its intricacies, and its phenomenal effect on the way we speak and write today. I'm currently reading David Crystal's Think On My Words, a fascinating analysis of Shakespearean wordsmithery, and I would thouroughly recommend it to all and sundry.