I’m going for a mixed generational dinner party and inviting three single parents and their offspring: Volumnia and her son Coriolanus; Shylock and his daughter Jessica; and Prospero and his daughter Miranda. The parents can discuss child-rearing practices (and the absence of their partners) and the children can share their remarkable life stories.
Why this six? They’ve all had a tough time in the plays and in their subsequent reception – Prospero ejected from Milan but condemned by post-colonial critics; Coriolanus causing riots on the page and the stage and heavily criticised by both right and left while his mother is dismissed as a pushy parent; Shylock and Jessica suffering anti-semitic representations (and Shakespeare isn’t guilt free here, either). The three women, particularly, deserve a louder voice than the playwright permitted them – give them a chance at the dinner table. The men are explicitly victims but they are stubborn too. How will they cope in a social situation? Compromise is hardly a characteristic of any of them. It could be a sparky evening.
They are great roles for actors and perhaps the real reason for inviting Prospero, Coriolanus and Shylock is to speculate who might be personating them. The best Coriolanus I’ve seen was Ian McKellen for the National Theatre back in 1984 (with Irene Worth as his mother), directed by Peter Hall. Looking again at the programme I note that it quotes Lenin, ‘There is absolutely no contradiction in principle between Soviet (that is, socialist) democracy and the exercise of dictatorial powers by individuals,’ which seems particularly relevant today (I write as the situation concerning the Ukraine, Crimea and Russia is extremely tense).
The most interesting Prospero and Shylock I’ve encountered have been in the recent performances by Patrick Stewart for the RSC. His relationship with Miranda (Mariah Gale) was beautifully observed. Clearly she’d been home-schooled by her father and when addressed by him raised her hand before offering any reply. In that production, too (by Rupert Goold in 2006), Ariel was a sulky teenager, dressed as a Goth and skulking round the stage, a further reminder of Prospero as Parent.
If at the dinner party we can substitute actors for roles then there’s a strong case for adding two great Shakespearian performers to the feast. The first is David Garrick, the eighteenth-century star actor and manager largely responsible for Shakespeare’s survival and whose collection of early quartos form such an important part of the British Museum’s Shakespeare collection. He was applauded for the naturalism of his acting, although this must be seen in comparison with the posturing and posing that preceded him. Few now would regard his famous ‘start’ as Richard III or the moment when, as Hamlet, he pulled a string in his pocket to raise his hair on seeing the ghost of his father as naturalistic.
He should be joined at the table by arguably the greatest English actress Ellen Terry. Her charisma was legendary and, like Garrick, she was renowned for her contacts and social as well as theatrical skills. She could dazzle us all by wearing her 1888 ‘Lady Macbeth’ costume which was covered in real beetle wings and which so impressed Oscar Wilde. Both actors could be invited, as they frequently were in life, to perform after the meal delivering famous speeches from the plays. It might be more entertaining, however, to call upon Prospero to conjure a masque as he did for Miranda and Ferdinand and to finish the evening with music and magic.
Image Manuel Harlan
Where are we all going to eat? Clearly it should be somewhere near the London Globe or in Stratford-upon-Avon so these characters can get some idea of their celebrity status and I’ve chosen Stratford so they can marvel at what has become of their creator’s birthplace and the properties he was associated with and, not least, the Royal Shakespeare Theatre. We’ll go to Il Moro, a restaurant with a Sardinian flavour, run by a former Shakespeare student of mine who gave up the academic life for gastronomy. She and her husband would make my guests very welcome and her knowledge would help avoid any Shakespearian faux pas.
The menu is trickier. In 1904 Beerbohm Tree as Caliban famously gnawed raw fish and I guess that, plus the berries that he refers to, will have been the usual diet on The Tempest’s island so we’ll begin with a fish course – fresh sardines I think – and conclude with a summer pudding. The main course is trickier. Perhaps Titus Andronicus could lend a hand in the kitchen and make some of his meat pies. Clearly as he was able to create a tasty dish from Tamora’s sons (his revenge for their rape and mutilation of his daughter) he has some culinary facility but pie seems a little dull. Venison steaks should be acceptable to all, borrowed from As You Like It.
Which reminds me … There was a minor incident in Stratford in 1919 when Nigel Playfair’s new production of the play omitted the stuffed stag that had been part of every As You Like It since 1879. Playfair and his designer were accosted in the street and accused of meddling with Shakespeare. The stag had impressive credentials: it was borrowed each year from Charlecote the nearby estate where, legend has it, Shakespeare poached deer thus precipitating his hasty move to London. If it still exists it certainly should be part of the dinner party decor.