Reading Shakespeare is like reading the menu at a fancy restaurant: it has made up words with necessary footnotes, and it must be read multiple times to have a basic concept of the text (and you still might not know the full meaning).
Whenever I go out to eat, there are always a few menu descriptions that look completely foreign to me--what the heck is a fonduta, linguini, or a carnita? It is only by reading the description, viewing the surrounding dishes, and, most importantly, looking at the picture that I am able to begin to understand what I am ordering. Throughout Shakespeare’s plays, words from other languages, words lost from our language, and mythological names appear; we must look at the context clues gain understanding.
In the first act of Othello, Shakespeare mentions the terms “antres” and “Anthropophagi” (1.3.162-167). Neither of these words were familiar to me, but through the publisher’s footnotes, I was able to understand the French roots and the Greek mythology.
In one Othello’s monologues, he says, “to such exsufflicate and brown surmises” (3.3.213). The footnote reveals that this is the sole recording of exsufflicate in the history of the English language and defines it to mean inflated, but even without the publisher’s help, it is pretty clear Othello is describing a negative outcome.
When ordering at a restaurant on my first visit, I like to ask the waiter and the people I am dining with their opinions on different dishes so I can have the best experience. When reading Shakespeare, it is necessary to discuss the ideas and opinions of others—they WILL disclose symbolism, syntax, and structure decisions you missed. During a discussion about act 3, someone pointed out the irony of Othello’s handkerchief having “magic in [its] web” (3.4.81) when the Moor swore in act 1 that he used no “mighty magic” (1.3.109) to espouse Desdemona—the irony only being realized after the fourth read through. It dawned on me that not everyone (including myself) would have seen this connection, regardless how many times the play was read. While rereading will give greater understanding, it is impossible to realize all symbolism—and THAT IS OKAY.
Words and opinions can only describe food to a point; researching definitions and discussion will only expose a finite amount of depth. To attempt to get the full experience of Shakespeare, you must see a theatrical or film production. Much like a connoisseur tasting an entree, attending a Shakespearean reenactment will display the work, effort, and symbolism the bard and the director layered in these literary masterpieces. Plotline will take virtually no effort to understand and symbolism will be easily seen by the set design and stage directions. This final tactic will greatly enhance your Shakespearean experience.
With a simple enough plotline, the difficulty of Shakespeare comes with the allusions, extensive vocabulary, and symbolism. I found researching definitions of words and replacing Shakespeare’s text with synonyms on the second or third read through to be most helpful way of understanding the text. I also found discussions with other people about the play revealed more and more depth. The strategy I used that was the most helpful, however, was experiencing the text in a way it was meant to be experienced. By using these strategies, Shakespeare became enjoyable, and I made vast improvement to my analysis skills; I hope you do, too.
Bonne Appetite
Work Cited:
Shakespeare, William, Barbara A. Mowat, and Paul Werstine. The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice. New York: Washington Square, 2004. Print.
Shakespeare, William, Barbara A. Mowat, and Paul Werstine. The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice. New York: Washington Square, 2004. Print.