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Man, some of the blog entries about Marriage a la Mode are downright intimidating in their scope/depth/general awesomeness. Thank you for a great read, folks. I hope I can contribute adequately to the discussions that these posts have drawn out.
I'm allergic to stepping on peoples' toes, so I'm trying to think of a line of thought to pursue that hasn't been trampled on too much yet. So in that light:
Class (and, somewhat adjoinedly, fate)
(Note: I'm writing at work. I have a bad back, so I left the (GIANT) book at home. At a later date I'll pepper this thing with quotes and citations. Feel free to jump in at will, I haven't fully coagulated this line of thought yet. Also, forgive my spelling, it too suffers.)
Though both the comic and tragic plot deal with characters in a high sphere of influence, Dryden leaves no doubt about the place that heredity has in defining one's "place" in the world. Though Leonidas and Palmyra were raised poor (but noble!) their whole world revolves around who-begat-who. This is reinforced by the easy acceptance everybody (read: Polydamas) seems to have of these (one would think) shocking revelations. (And for a usurper, he sure does bow down to the "rightful king" quick and easy-like, don't you think?) Once someone's birthright has been declared there is a magical bowing-down that is utterly unchallenged. Having both Leonidas and Palmyra be of noble birth is also a convenient "out" for Dryden - he doesn't have to deal with how to cross social barriers to get the lovers together. Nobody gets upset, everybody is in their "rightful" place.
(The above situation reminds me of that in Joseph Andrews (1742) by Henry Fielding, wherein his characters start as peasants but are artificially (and by "surprise" revelations in their "true" lineage) raised to a higher status in the end. The novel is a scathing attack of the class structure, without actually threatening the validity of that structure. Instead, he champions the "virtuous" life across all classes.)
The comedy couples embody a desire to move upward in rank, but it's a more precarious position. Particularly Palamede and Melantha showcase this, the former in his fear of losing his inheritance, the latter in the constant "courting" of the court. They both settle into place (read: are put in their place) at the end of the play. It seems that Melantha gains a bit of status in being recognized at the court, but her station does't really rise because of it - she's just sanctioned by the rest of the hangers-on to royalty. Palamede manages to keep his status by doing what daddy wants. Nothing earth-shattering happens to these characters in the realm of class.
The reason this interests me is that there's a certain amount of parody apparent in the play, particularly in the comedy, that pokes fun at various aspects of the upper classes. Someone blogged about how fashion and the general accoutrements (and use of french words!) was basically ragging on the aristocracy. It's no surprise that it's featured in the comedy - the one where everybody is eventually "put in their place" as I mentioned above. Once again, this reminds me of Fielding - don't rock the boat.
I'm allergic to stepping on peoples' toes, so I'm trying to think of a line of thought to pursue that hasn't been trampled on too much yet. So in that light:
Class (and, somewhat adjoinedly, fate)
(Note: I'm writing at work. I have a bad back, so I left the (GIANT) book at home. At a later date I'll pepper this thing with quotes and citations. Feel free to jump in at will, I haven't fully coagulated this line of thought yet. Also, forgive my spelling, it too suffers.)
Though both the comic and tragic plot deal with characters in a high sphere of influence, Dryden leaves no doubt about the place that heredity has in defining one's "place" in the world. Though Leonidas and Palmyra were raised poor (but noble!) their whole world revolves around who-begat-who. This is reinforced by the easy acceptance everybody (read: Polydamas) seems to have of these (one would think) shocking revelations. (And for a usurper, he sure does bow down to the "rightful king" quick and easy-like, don't you think?) Once someone's birthright has been declared there is a magical bowing-down that is utterly unchallenged. Having both Leonidas and Palmyra be of noble birth is also a convenient "out" for Dryden - he doesn't have to deal with how to cross social barriers to get the lovers together. Nobody gets upset, everybody is in their "rightful" place.
(The above situation reminds me of that in Joseph Andrews (1742) by Henry Fielding, wherein his characters start as peasants but are artificially (and by "surprise" revelations in their "true" lineage) raised to a higher status in the end. The novel is a scathing attack of the class structure, without actually threatening the validity of that structure. Instead, he champions the "virtuous" life across all classes.)
The comedy couples embody a desire to move upward in rank, but it's a more precarious position. Particularly Palamede and Melantha showcase this, the former in his fear of losing his inheritance, the latter in the constant "courting" of the court. They both settle into place (read: are put in their place) at the end of the play. It seems that Melantha gains a bit of status in being recognized at the court, but her station does't really rise because of it - she's just sanctioned by the rest of the hangers-on to royalty. Palamede manages to keep his status by doing what daddy wants. Nothing earth-shattering happens to these characters in the realm of class.
The reason this interests me is that there's a certain amount of parody apparent in the play, particularly in the comedy, that pokes fun at various aspects of the upper classes. Someone blogged about how fashion and the general accoutrements (and use of french words!) was basically ragging on the aristocracy. It's no surprise that it's featured in the comedy - the one where everybody is eventually "put in their place" as I mentioned above. Once again, this reminds me of Fielding - don't rock the boat.