Bardisms (12 page)

LET’S FURTHER THINK ON THIS…

-C
LAUDIUS
,
Hamlet
, 4.7.120

Tranio’s mentions of
mathematics
and
metaphysics
remind me of two great scholars in those fields who knew their Shakespeare. The prolific Isaac Asimov, writer of science fiction and interpreter to the layman of science’s most arcane mysteries, was a devoted Bardophile. His giant
Asimov’s Guide to Shakespeare,
at fifteen hundred pages, almost as long as the collection of work it explicates, returns frequently to one aspect of Shakespeare that Asimov particularly admires: his intellect. Here’s a description I love about the power of Shakespeare’s brain to shape ours:

 

Shakespeare has said so many things so supremely well that we are forever finding ourselves thinking in his terms.

 

Another scientist, Thomas Edison, also found Shakespeare’s mental prowess admirable. This is the light the Wizard of Menlo Park shed on the matter:

 

Ah Shakespeare! He would have been an inventor, a wonderful inventor, if he had turned his mind to it. He seemed to see the inside of everything.

LIFE TEACHES THE MOST EFFECTIVE LESSONS

The School of Hard Knocks is the one educational institution in which Shakespeare believes without reservation. Those of his characters who are not SHK alumni teach there, or are otherwise on staff. The “Hell Gate” Porter from
Macbeth
is the school’s mascot (“Here’s a knocking indeed!”); its fight song, “We must have knocks, ha! Must we not?” was written by King Richard III; and Regan from
King Lear
is headmistress. Here’s her view of how life teaches some tough lessons:

To willful men,

The injuries that they themselves procure

Must be their schoolmasters.

-R
EGAN
,
King Lear
, 2.4.297–99

In other words:

The only way stubborn people learn anything is from the bad situations they create for themselves.

How to use it:

These are my standard words of wisdom for anyone who’s painted himself into a corner. Use it to encourage some willful person you care about to learn from his or her mistakes.

Regan’s advice may strike some as a tad harsh. If some occasion in your life calls out for a more sympathetic view of life’s way of teaching lessons, try this Bardism from Antonio in
Two Gents
.

Experience is by industry achieved,

And perfected by the swift course of time.

-A
NTONIO
,
The Two Gentlemen of Verona
, 1.3.22–23

In other words:

It takes hard work to get good at anything, and the investment of a lot of time to get perfect at it.

How to use it:

Produce these lines as an impressive substitute for “Practice makes perfect.” When that same someone you know has once again painted himself into a corner, Shakespearize him with this gentle reminder that it takes work and time to become an assured painter. He’ll appreciate it much more than Regan’s observation that it’s his own fault his life’s so tough.

Some details:

Sometimes, in the name of fealty to Shakespeare’s intentions, we are obliged to speak his lines in ways that sound crazy today. The Bardism from
Two Gents
quoted here offer an example.

According to Antonio, two things are true of experience: it’s
achieved
, and then it’s
perfected
. Modern English-speakers will pronounce Antonio’s second adjective with the accent on its second syllable:
per-FECT-ed
. But if you scan the line according to iambic pentameter, you’ll find that that doesn’t work and that the perfect pronunciation is actually
PER-fect-ed
:

and per | fect ed | by the | swift course | of time

To be sure, choosing to read and work on Shakespeare in the first place requires a commitment to language that’s four hundred years old and often odd-sounding as a result. If you’re really interested in saying the words he wrote, sometimes you’re going to have to say some strange stuff. But sometimes that strangeness can become a barrier between you and your listeners, and can prove confusing or, worse, downright off-putting. If you quote Antonio to your friend who’s painted himself into a corner, and tell him that experience is “PER-fect-ed by the swift course of time,” he’ll look at you like you’re dumber than he is. He’ll understand your point much more clearly if you insist that experience is “per-FECT-ed.” That rumbling you’ll feel beneath your feet will be Shakespeare spinning in his grave, and any English teacher in the vicinity might well angrily splatter you with some of your pal’s paint. But to insist on correctness at the expense of comprehensibility is a kind of arrogance. Shakespeare himself surely would mock it as misplaced pedantry. Better to violate the letter of his language in order to put across its spirit. Except in the case of flagrant violations, the Shakespeare SWAT team won’t arrest you, and you might even win some new friends to the Bard’s cause by helping him bridge a gap of four centuries and speak immediately and directly to our time.

SHAKESPEARE ON THE COMMENCEMENT ADDRESS

Have more than thou showest,

Speak less than thou knowest,

Lend less than thou owest,

Ride more than thou goest,

Learn more than thou trowest,

Set less than thou throwest.
*

—F
OOL
,
King Lear
, 1.4.101–6

The commencement address is the life occasion that shows in the Shakespeare quotation derby, losing to the wedding and the funeral, the win and place horses, by a nose. Commencement calls for wisdom, warmth, pith, and humor, delivered by eminences whose scars from the battles of life prove that they’ve earned the right to dispense advice about success, failure, and everything in between. The best of the graduation-day VIPs know that a good speech serves up its sagacity buffet-style, offering a wide menu of counsel that includes morsels helpful to the whole range of the assembled graduates. They understand that there’s no better way to appeal to everyone than by reference to recognized authorities and canonical texts that lend their insights the imprimatur of the tried and true.

Recognized authority. Canonical text. Tried and true. Did someone say “Shakespeare”? A quick Lexis search confirms that lots of graduation speakers say his name indeed, and that Shakespeare looks pretty good in a cap and gown. Lexis further reveals that other frequently cited commencement-day doyens look positively haggard in comparison. Abraham Lincoln, Benjamin Franklin, Albert Einstein, Ronald Reagan, Mahatma Gandhi, the rabbis of the Talmud, Winston Churchill, Mark Twain, Bob Dylan, Yogi Berra, Warren Buffett, and, in at least one documented case, Batman—these formidable thinkers may have some pointers for the average baccalaureate, but on those spring mornings when “Pomp and Circumstance” plays, they are but apprentices at the master’s feet.

Two Bardisms are the standards on graduation day: the Fool’s advice to Lear, above (stopping just before he counsels the old king not to drink too much and not to patronize prostitutes—not because either piece of advice is bad, but because there may be more appropriate times than commencement to express them!), and the one below.

HERE’S SOME GOOD ADVICE

Polonius’ advice to his son, Laertes, is one of Shakespeare’s most famous speeches. Its familiarity sometimes turns it into background noise and makes us take it for granted. But look at it closely and you’ll find some quite sound recommendations from someone who’s been around the block to someone just getting started on life’s journey.

These few precepts in thy memory

See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,

Nor any unproportioned thought his act.

Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar.

Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, 5

Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel,

But do not dull thy palm with entertainment

Of each new-hatched unfledged comrade. Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,

Bear’t that th’opposèd may beware of thee. 10

Give every man thine ear but few thy voice.

Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not expressed in fancy; rich not gaudy;

For the apparel oft proclaims the man, 15

And they in France of the best rank and station

Are of a most select and generous chief in that.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be,

For loan oft loses both itself and friend,

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. 20

This above all—to thine own self be true,

And it must follow, as the night the day,

Thou canst not then be false to any man.

—P
OLONIUS
,
Hamlet
, 1.3.58–80

In other words:

Make sure you carve this handful of principles into your mind. Don’t say everything you’re thinking, and never take any action before you’ve fully thought it through. Be friendly, but don’t share intimacies with people you’ve only just met. The friends you already have, whose friendships are tried and tested—hold on to them as tightly as you can. But don’t get calluses from shaking hands with every Tom, Dick, or Harry who comes along. Try not to get into fights, but if you do, handle yourself in such a way that the other guy is scared of you. Listen to everyone, but don’t talk to everyone. Hear every opinion, but decide things for yourself. Wear the most expensive clothes you can afford, but make sure they’re not over the top. They should be elegant, not ostentatious, because your clothes tell people who you are. (The French upper classes really get this, and understand how to display their rank through their fine garments.) Don’t borrow money, and don’t lend any. Loans go south and take friendships with them, and relying on credit makes you spend too much. Here’s the most important thing: be true to yourself. If you do that, then as sure as night follows day, there’s no way you’ll ever let anybody down.