SHAKESPEARE

 

Though there the people had more absolute power,
I say, they nourish’d disobedience, fed
The ruin of the state.
(Shakespeare, Coriolanus, Act III, Scene I)

 

What does Shakespeare have to do with Oedipus at Colonus? During the early phases of rehearsals, Mark proposes an additional literary subtext for the characterisation of Theseus, namely, Shakespeare’s Coriolanus. A search by the keyword ‘Coriolanus’ on the ReTAGS database brings up 9 videos in which the Shakespearean tragedy features in rehearsal conversation or improvisation. Why? What does this early 17th-century play about a legendary Roman ruler have to do with Theseus?

 

Theseus addresses the crowd.

 

Coriolanus is the subtlest intertext, but one that provides another layer to Theseus’ complexity. A general returns to Rome victorious from battle seeking the consulship, but to be successful he needs to win over the support of the populace. However, Coriolanus’ hatred of the plebeians and disdain for popular rule not only forges a rift between himself and those whose interests he is meant to represent, but gets him banished from Rome. As he is forced to leave his city, he sends forth a torrent of insults: 

 

You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate
As reek o’ the rotten fens, whose loves I prize
As the dead carcasses of unburied men
That do corrupt my air, I banish you.
(Shakespeare, Coriolanus, Act III, Scene III)

 

Mark proposes incorporating elements of Coriolanus’ disdain for the people into Faniswa’s characterisation of Theseus. One of her first tasks is to write two speeches, one to be delivered in public, and another in private, expressing Theseus’ truer feelings about those he governs. Watch Faniswa read out the private speech she composed from 5:38-7:23: 

 

The private speech is a patchwork of fragments from Coriolanus, which she has woven into a tapestry of sentiments expressing the character’s disdain for the ‘rabble’: 

 

I had rather be their servant in my way
Than sway with them in theirs. (II.I)


Bid them wash their faces
And keep their teeth clean. (II.III)


Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here,
To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear…? (II.III)


May I change these garments? (II.III)


You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth?
Have you not set them on? (III.I)


If you are learn’d,
Be not as common fools. (III.I)


That love the fundamental part of state (III.I)


rotten thing! (III.I)


they were barbarians—as they are (III.I)


Let them hang. (III.II)


they to dust should grind it
And throw ’t against the wind. (III.II)


traitor! (III.III)


thousand deaths… (III.III)


.. sits in their eyes (II.II)


You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate… (III.III)


You ignorance, which finds not till it feels (III.III)


Where is your ancient courage? (IV.I)


’Tis I that made thy widows (IV.IV)


My birth-place hate I (IV.IV)


I serve not thy master. (IV.V)


Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
Too great for what contains it. Boy!
O slave! (V.VI)


Drawn turns of blood out of thy country’s breast (IV.V)

 

Faniswa and Mark in rehearsal.

 

After a short discussion, as part of which, Mark searches for further quotes from Coriolanus, Mark asks Faniswa to pick out individual words and phrases that could be used to convey Theseus’ secret sentiments towards his citizens. She then improvises, searching for both Theseus’ body language and the vocabulary he might use in private to express his disdain. Watch Faniswa experiment with Theseus-as-Coriolanus: 

 

Of all Shakespearean plays, and with the breadth of Shakespearean insults available, why choose Coriolanus? The tragedy is a personal favourite of Thabo Mbeki, who provides a major source of inspiration for Magnet Theatre’s version of Theseus. While studying English literature in the former Soviet Union, Mbeki read Shakespeare through a Marxist lens and came to view Coriolanus as a model of vanguard leadership in a revolutionary context. As Mark explains to Faniswa, Mbeki saw in Coriolanus (however problematically) an example of the ‘educated’ leader at an ideological disjuncture with the citizen body. Mbeki wrote to a friend in 1969 (cit. Gevisser 2007: 284): 

 

He is the scourge of the rabble, the unthinking mob, with its cowardice, its lying, its ordinary-people-ness; an inspirer of the thinking masses, who are purposeful, kindly, etc.

 

As Coriolanus expresses in Act III, Scene II, he despises having to disguise his genuine opinions to placate the rabble (‘Must I with base tongue give my noble heart | A lie that it must bear?’), in what is reportedly Mbeki’s favourite line: 

Why did you wish me milder? would you have me
False to my nature? Rather say I play
The man I am. (III.II)

 

Watch and listen to Mark and Faniswa discussing Shakespeare’s Coriolanus and its significance to Mbeki, from 8:50 to 20:30 

 

Daniel Roux argues (2015: 12-14), ‘To speak of Mbeki as a Coriolanus-like figure is not necessarily to reduce political complexity to a question of individual qualities’, but in fact, using Coriolanus as a framework animates our understanding of Mbeki and his actions. We can take this one step further, framing Theseus as Mbeki as Coriolanus. Employing a Coriolanian undertone to the characterisation of Theseus, despising his own people, draws the regent in sharp distinction to the traditional characterisation of the Athenian as the ‘good’ king, the ‘paragon of responsible monarchy’, a ‘good example of what the Athenians had lost in their version of “mob rule”’ (Kelly 2009: 22–23). 

 

Theseus awaits his moment, alone in his chambers.

 

A few days later, Mark and Faniswa toy with the idea of Theseus first being encountered alone in his room, immersed in reading Coriolanus. This bedroom scene never made the final cut, but the literary subtext of Shakespeare’s Roman ruler adds a layer of depth to Theseus-as-Mbeki-as-Coriolanus that, without witnessing these rehearsal workshops, the researcher might have no idea informed the final characterisation of the Athenian ‘hero’, perceptible in Theseus’ opening words:

 

Smells like waste ground here.
What is that noise?
And who are those people?
Are they from here?
What are they doing?
What are they dancing for now?
And that man in the middle — what are they doing to him?

 

If this is something that can only be accessed from engaging with the creative process, we have to ask: how much else are we missing out on when pursuing traditional routes of scholarly investigation?