[ENGL 3203] A Bold Stroke for a Colonel
Mar. 21st, 2007 03:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wordwhackerGiven the title for this play, I kind of thought that it would be more about, y'know, a wife. I interpreted it as the wife who was making the "bold stroke", see, particularly since the play was written by a woman. Alas and alack and all of that, but I can't say I'm terribly surprised to see another witty gentleman and his buddy as the central focus of this play.
Don't you love the Dramatis Personae, though? It sure makes the facts plain: "Mrs. Lovely, a fortune of thirty thousand pound." WITH BOOBIES. And she's witty, too. Man, there's definitely no down-side to this situation. Oh, except for the "four guardians" thing. I like the allusion to them as mythic beasts: "She but one monster feared, I've four to fear" (V.i.144). No wonder it takes a soldier to win her, even though he's using wit and gall instead of pushing his bayonet into their throats. That would've been fun. Consent THIS!
Part of me - that angry feminist that I try to tame and guide somewhat when reading these texts - wants to be annoyed at the fact that the girl's worth nothing without her cash. And sure, when a couple of thousand pounds are at stake, it irks me. But THIRTY THOUSAND? That's a huge chunk of change! Probably something like thirty million today. Can you really blame 'em for not making an effort? Hell, it's even in Mrs. Lovely's best interest to keep the cash, since the colonel isn't exactly rich.
And that's another thing that's interesting. I'm not sure what the economic status of any of these folks (aside from maybe Modelove) is, but I get the impression that they're not quite the upper eschelon that we're used to dealing with. I get the sense that we've moved down to at least the middle-class in terms of the men. People seem to actually have trades and deal with money on not quite so abstract a level as we've seen. And in his speech at the end of the play, the colonel makes a pretty good case for his role in society:
Man. I can just see the Union Jack flying in the background and a rousing chorus of God Save the (King?) eminating whimsically from the pit.
My Inner Angry Feminist also started to complain of Mrs. Lovely's general lack of agency in this play, too... until I got to the last act. Now, I must say that I did like her whenever she appeared - she was witty and kept talking back at her guardians so deliciously. But of course there was the sighing Oh Saaaave Me, Good Sir kind of sentiment regarding the colonel and his attempts to get her out of her situation.
A great counter-balance to this, though, was how she continually almost screws things up for him because she's so intent on disobeying her guardians' wishes. Okay, one could read this as woman tries to take charge and JUST LOOK WHAT HAPPENS!, but for some reason it doesn't come across that way to me. Maybe I'm reading it as an act of agency and defiance instead because I've decided that a female playwright wouldn't have meant it in the "woman as failure" kind of way.
More concretely, though, I have to note that whenever she screws up, she gets herself out of trouble - she doesn't just leave things hanging and wait for the colonel to fix it. Like in this scene:
All in all I also got a kick out of how this play played out (man, it's too late at night for me to be making... words) in terms of the colonel's schemes. I was afraid that it would be really linear, but it involved more twisting about and filling different guises than I'd anticipated. A lot of fun all-around. Don't you love how nobody recognizes anybody when they put on a new set of clothes? My assumption is that everybody back then was terribly nearsighted and had no idea. And I suppose theatres would have been much less well lit than they are today, so that probably helped.
THE BREECHES COUNTER IS DEAD! LONG LIVE THE BREECHES COUNTER!
Don't you love the Dramatis Personae, though? It sure makes the facts plain: "Mrs. Lovely, a fortune of thirty thousand pound." WITH BOOBIES. And she's witty, too. Man, there's definitely no down-side to this situation. Oh, except for the "four guardians" thing. I like the allusion to them as mythic beasts: "She but one monster feared, I've four to fear" (V.i.144). No wonder it takes a soldier to win her, even though he's using wit and gall instead of pushing his bayonet into their throats. That would've been fun. Consent THIS!
Part of me - that angry feminist that I try to tame and guide somewhat when reading these texts - wants to be annoyed at the fact that the girl's worth nothing without her cash. And sure, when a couple of thousand pounds are at stake, it irks me. But THIRTY THOUSAND? That's a huge chunk of change! Probably something like thirty million today. Can you really blame 'em for not making an effort? Hell, it's even in Mrs. Lovely's best interest to keep the cash, since the colonel isn't exactly rich.
And that's another thing that's interesting. I'm not sure what the economic status of any of these folks (aside from maybe Modelove) is, but I get the impression that they're not quite the upper eschelon that we're used to dealing with. I get the sense that we've moved down to at least the middle-class in terms of the men. People seem to actually have trades and deal with money on not quite so abstract a level as we've seen. And in his speech at the end of the play, the colonel makes a pretty good case for his role in society:
[...] I have had
the honor to serve his Majesty and headed a
regiment of the bravest fellows that ever pushed
bayonet in the throat of a Frenchman, and
notwithstanding the fortune this lady brings me,
whenever my country wants my aid, this sword
and arm are at her service. (V.i.609-615)
Man. I can just see the Union Jack flying in the background and a rousing chorus of God Save the (King?) eminating whimsically from the pit.
My Inner Angry Feminist also started to complain of Mrs. Lovely's general lack of agency in this play, too... until I got to the last act. Now, I must say that I did like her whenever she appeared - she was witty and kept talking back at her guardians so deliciously. But of course there was the sighing Oh Saaaave Me, Good Sir kind of sentiment regarding the colonel and his attempts to get her out of her situation.
A great counter-balance to this, though, was how she continually almost screws things up for him because she's so intent on disobeying her guardians' wishes. Okay, one could read this as woman tries to take charge and JUST LOOK WHAT HAPPENS!, but for some reason it doesn't come across that way to me. Maybe I'm reading it as an act of agency and defiance instead because I've decided that a female playwright wouldn't have meant it in the "woman as failure" kind of way.
More concretely, though, I have to note that whenever she screws up, she gets herself out of trouble - she doesn't just leave things hanging and wait for the colonel to fix it. Like in this scene:
Dude! Anne kicks ass! She's also just as involved as Fainwell in her and his final scheme (pretending to be Quakers in love, aww). Okay, so she doesn't appear at the start of the play and is basically mute once the contract for her marriage is signed... these things I have learned to let bother me in a fashion similar to a dull itch. Given her circumstances I have to appreciate the lengths she goes to to be an active participant in her own escape when given half a chance.
COLONEL.
[...] As he takes her hand to kiss it, he endeavors
to put a letter into it; she lets it drop; Prim takes it up.)
MRS. LOVELY. (Turning from him.)
I have no ambition to appear conspicuously
ridiculous, sir.
COLONEL.
So fall the hopes of Fainwell.
MRS. LOVELY. (Aside.)
Hah! Fainwell! 'Tis he! What have I done? Prim
has the letter and all will be discovered.
OBIDIAH PRIM.
Friend, I know not thy name, so cannot call thee
by it, but thou seest thy letter is unwelcome to the
maiden; she will not read it.
MRS. LOVELY.
Nor shall you. (Snatches the letter.) I'll tear it in a
thousand pieces and scatter it, as I will the hopes
of all those that any of you shall recommend to
me. (Tears the letter.)
[...] COLONEL. (Aside.)
Excellent woman. (II.ii.149-164)
All in all I also got a kick out of how this play played out (man, it's too late at night for me to be making... words) in terms of the colonel's schemes. I was afraid that it would be really linear, but it involved more twisting about and filling different guises than I'd anticipated. A lot of fun all-around. Don't you love how nobody recognizes anybody when they put on a new set of clothes? My assumption is that everybody back then was terribly nearsighted and had no idea. And I suppose theatres would have been much less well lit than they are today, so that probably helped.
THE BREECHES COUNTER IS DEAD! LONG LIVE THE BREECHES COUNTER!
