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juushikaTitle: The Merchant of Venice
Author: William Shakespeare
Published: 1600
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 100
Total Page Count: 257,040
Text Number: 830
Read Because: co-read with my mother
Review: The way that this engages/critiques/reinforces anti-Semitisim is markedly similar to the way that other plays (like The Taming of the Shrew) do sexism, but I found it significantly more difficult to countenance. The uneasy space that "if you prick us, do we not bleed?" shares with a forced conversion, that multidimensional characterization shares with explicit anti-Semitism, not just from the characters but from the playwright, including the stereotypes that Shylock is built upon, is impossible for me to resolve; if nothing else, it's a reminder to carry these reservations into other plays. Otherwise: good; not as obtrusively clever in language as some of the previous plays, but the movement between the dual plot lines is fluid and assured.
Reading this play was An Experience and one I regret on an emotional level but not on a in-context-of-this-project level; I wrote about it on tumblr, copied below for safekeeping.
I hadn’t read The Merchant of Venice for at least a decade, and when reading a play there’s frequently a moment of, "oh, that’s where that line comes from"—but no line has surprised me as much as "If you prick us, do we not bleed?" a line which, for me, is almost a truism of social justice
and it turns out it comes from Antisemitism?: The Play!
Every time Shakespeare explores prejudice, it’s a mix of critique and reinforcement—this is particularly, repeatedly true with sexism. It’s also the experience of reading all classics: to see them within contemporary context; to celebrate their achievements without granting blanket immunity; we do this mental gymnastics all the time.
So I realize that this particular example has been hard to wrap my head around because of the perfect storm of this issue/right now; I can’t find intellectual distance from antisemitism in the current political and social climate. But it’s also that other examinations of prejudice are more thorough and commonplace—again, sexism, a subject that would perhaps be as tender if The Taming of the Shrew were the only play we had—but it’s not, not by a long way, so its limitations find compensation elsewhere. There is only this exploration of antisemitism.
And I’m sure that, again, within historical context, there’s something liberal about what Shakespeare does with Shylock. “Do we not bleed,” an appeal so fundamental that it is the only line I knew from cultural osmosis, still resonates; but its framing surprised me: “He hath disgraced me and hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies—and what’s his reason? I am a Jew.” I didn’t expect to see an acknowledgement of the suffering, and anger, that results from discrimination; for it to be so legitimatized and so explicitly tied to the Jewish identity. It’s certainly been a productive text for Jewish people to reclaim, which may be the only way to salvage it. And for all I know the most egregious things, like the forced conversion, had good intent—a way to acknowledge and salvage the humanity of the Jew. But it remains unconscionable—the stereotypes upon which Shylock is built, the unforgivable form of that “happy ending,” and a condemnation that is not limited to characters but—anathema as it is to speak to authorial intent—from playwright himself, baked into the play, the dehumanization that pervades every aspect.
I wrote in my review that this unresolved anxiety is a reminder to take it forward into other plays—because while issues like sexism are more thoroughly, if imperfectly, explored, I’m sure there are issues which are as limited and troubled as this one, in ways I hadn’t noticed because I lacked personal investment.
But—again, within historical context, within that mental gymnastics—these plays have been a lovely experience—not safe, per se (Richard II fucked me right the fuck up)—but talking about them with my mother has been phenomenal, and to have such a time- and energy-consuming project in a period when we both really need a distraction—it has been a good time to read the plays.
It was a bad time to read this one.
Title: Adaptation (Adaptation Book 1)
Author: Malinda Lo
Published: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers, 2012
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 385
Total Page Count: 257,425
Text Number: 831
Read Because: personal enjoyment, ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: A national crisis sparks a series of strange events which alter a teenage girl. This opens with dystopic elements; it then backburners its big speculative twist (which is spoiled on my version of the cover! why!) for conspiracy theories and a sexual awakening slash bisexual love triangle which I'm under the impression resolves with polyamory. It's certainly not boring—if anything, it's cluttered—and Lo operates firmly within the YA genre but in conversation, and often argument, with its conventions. I bounce off of most YA, but the audacity and willingness to play against type held me here. It's not exceptional—in particular, I rarely had a grasp on the protagonist's personality (perhaps because she's still figuring it out herself). But I'm sufficiently engaged to read the sequel.
Title: The Ballad of Black Tom
Author: Victor LaValle
Narrator Kevin R. Free
Published: Macmillan Audio, 2016
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 150
Total Page Count: 257,575
Text Number: 832
Read Because: personal enjoyment, audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: A Black hustler is hired by a rich man obsessed with the arcane. This isn't precisely subtle—it gets multiple direct thesis statements at the end—but I appreciate it: the anger, legitimate and productive but not uncomplicated, cathartic and self-advocating, is a worthy theme—especially so as direct confrontation to Lovecraft's racism. I'm not entirely impressed with the —the dialog is unrefined (which is exacerbated in audio) and the second PoV is lifeless; the historical setting and distinct atmosphere plays beautifully against the vivid, evocative imagery, but the obtrusive Cthulhu namedropping doesn't benefit it. But I liked this more than not; I should look for more by LaValle.
Author: William Shakespeare
Published: 1600
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 100
Total Page Count: 257,040
Text Number: 830
Read Because: co-read with my mother
Review: The way that this engages/critiques/reinforces anti-Semitisim is markedly similar to the way that other plays (like The Taming of the Shrew) do sexism, but I found it significantly more difficult to countenance. The uneasy space that "if you prick us, do we not bleed?" shares with a forced conversion, that multidimensional characterization shares with explicit anti-Semitism, not just from the characters but from the playwright, including the stereotypes that Shylock is built upon, is impossible for me to resolve; if nothing else, it's a reminder to carry these reservations into other plays. Otherwise: good; not as obtrusively clever in language as some of the previous plays, but the movement between the dual plot lines is fluid and assured.
Reading this play was An Experience and one I regret on an emotional level but not on a in-context-of-this-project level; I wrote about it on tumblr, copied below for safekeeping.
I hadn’t read The Merchant of Venice for at least a decade, and when reading a play there’s frequently a moment of, "oh, that’s where that line comes from"—but no line has surprised me as much as "If you prick us, do we not bleed?" a line which, for me, is almost a truism of social justice
and it turns out it comes from Antisemitism?: The Play!
Every time Shakespeare explores prejudice, it’s a mix of critique and reinforcement—this is particularly, repeatedly true with sexism. It’s also the experience of reading all classics: to see them within contemporary context; to celebrate their achievements without granting blanket immunity; we do this mental gymnastics all the time.
So I realize that this particular example has been hard to wrap my head around because of the perfect storm of this issue/right now; I can’t find intellectual distance from antisemitism in the current political and social climate. But it’s also that other examinations of prejudice are more thorough and commonplace—again, sexism, a subject that would perhaps be as tender if The Taming of the Shrew were the only play we had—but it’s not, not by a long way, so its limitations find compensation elsewhere. There is only this exploration of antisemitism.
And I’m sure that, again, within historical context, there’s something liberal about what Shakespeare does with Shylock. “Do we not bleed,” an appeal so fundamental that it is the only line I knew from cultural osmosis, still resonates; but its framing surprised me: “He hath disgraced me and hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies—and what’s his reason? I am a Jew.” I didn’t expect to see an acknowledgement of the suffering, and anger, that results from discrimination; for it to be so legitimatized and so explicitly tied to the Jewish identity. It’s certainly been a productive text for Jewish people to reclaim, which may be the only way to salvage it. And for all I know the most egregious things, like the forced conversion, had good intent—a way to acknowledge and salvage the humanity of the Jew. But it remains unconscionable—the stereotypes upon which Shylock is built, the unforgivable form of that “happy ending,” and a condemnation that is not limited to characters but—anathema as it is to speak to authorial intent—from playwright himself, baked into the play, the dehumanization that pervades every aspect.
I wrote in my review that this unresolved anxiety is a reminder to take it forward into other plays—because while issues like sexism are more thoroughly, if imperfectly, explored, I’m sure there are issues which are as limited and troubled as this one, in ways I hadn’t noticed because I lacked personal investment.
But—again, within historical context, within that mental gymnastics—these plays have been a lovely experience—not safe, per se (Richard II fucked me right the fuck up)—but talking about them with my mother has been phenomenal, and to have such a time- and energy-consuming project in a period when we both really need a distraction—it has been a good time to read the plays.
It was a bad time to read this one.
Title: Adaptation (Adaptation Book 1)
Author: Malinda Lo
Published: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers, 2012
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 385
Total Page Count: 257,425
Text Number: 831
Read Because: personal enjoyment, ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: A national crisis sparks a series of strange events which alter a teenage girl. This opens with dystopic elements; it then backburners its big speculative twist (which is spoiled on my version of the cover! why!) for conspiracy theories and a sexual awakening slash bisexual love triangle which I'm under the impression resolves with polyamory. It's certainly not boring—if anything, it's cluttered—and Lo operates firmly within the YA genre but in conversation, and often argument, with its conventions. I bounce off of most YA, but the audacity and willingness to play against type held me here. It's not exceptional—in particular, I rarely had a grasp on the protagonist's personality (perhaps because she's still figuring it out herself). But I'm sufficiently engaged to read the sequel.
Title: The Ballad of Black Tom
Author: Victor LaValle
Narrator Kevin R. Free
Published: Macmillan Audio, 2016
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 150
Total Page Count: 257,575
Text Number: 832
Read Because: personal enjoyment, audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: A Black hustler is hired by a rich man obsessed with the arcane. This isn't precisely subtle—it gets multiple direct thesis statements at the end—but I appreciate it: the anger, legitimate and productive but not uncomplicated, cathartic and self-advocating, is a worthy theme—especially so as direct confrontation to Lovecraft's racism. I'm not entirely impressed with the —the dialog is unrefined (which is exacerbated in audio) and the second PoV is lifeless; the historical setting and distinct atmosphere plays beautifully against the vivid, evocative imagery, but the obtrusive Cthulhu namedropping doesn't benefit it. But I liked this more than not; I should look for more by LaValle.
