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A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1595–6) and Romeo and Juliet (1595–6)
The dream is a complex theatrical metaphor. It is the double vision that allows us to watch, listen, consider and reflect – but rarely, if ever in comedy, to apportion blame. In this chapter we will consider two plays: A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Romeo and Juliet, written at almost the same time (1595–6). These can be seen as mirror images of each other, working from a similar structural foundation to produce in the one, comedy, using the dream metaphor, and in the other, tragedy, with reference to a particular dream. But the concept of dream itself is multi-layered, since plays in the theatre are also often described as dreams or fantasies. In these two plays metaphors accumulate, thereby opening to question and constantly challenging the audience’s perception.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
You might ask what kind of dream it is that Shakespeare creates in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Whose dream is it? How does he create it?
Let us take the second question first. As we have seen, Shakespeare elaborates on a basic formula that he develops for his drama. In this romantic comedy it begins with a problem, a serious threat, even of death. A geographical relocation or the taking on of a disguise then occurs until an awakening happens – a discovery – which brings about reconciliation and, in comedy, the resolution of the initial problem and the neutralization of the threat of death.
This is the structure underlying A Midsummer Night’s Dream which holds the play together. In The Comedy of Errors Shakespeare had two pairs of identical twins, whose escapades generate the hilarity of mistaken identities. In A Midsummer Night’s Dream he takes two couples, Lysander and Hermia and Demetrius and Helena, who enter a forest. It is a ‘wood’, which is a word that also meant ‘mad’ in Elizabethan colloquial speech. Here they become embroiled in a fairy world in which a third couple, Oberon, King of the Fairies, and Titania, Queen of the Fairies, are quarrelling over the ownership of a ‘changeling boy’. In fairy stories ‘a changeling’ is a child that has been exchanged for another at birth – a child that is of wronged or mistaken identity.
In this play Lysander and Hermia have fled to the forest from the Athenian court because Hermia wishes to marry Lysander, but her father Egeus (representing old age), wants her to marry Demetrius. The Duke (representing authority) rules in favour of the father and threatens the choice of death or the cloistered life of nun for Hermia if she does not obey. So the flight of the lovers is to escape the threats of age and parental authority. They wish to be free in their choice of partner and to establish an identity for themselves. Helena tells Demetrius, whom she loves but who does not love her, about the flight of Hermia and Lysander, thinking that the knowledge will make him love her. It does not, and he pursues Hermia and Lysander into the forest and Helena, in turn, pursues him. In going to the forest, unwittingly they are entering a ‘mad’ fairy world at odds with itself because of the quarrel between Oberon and Titania.
The King and Queen of the Fairies correspond to Theseus, the Duke of Athens, and his bride-to-be, Hippolyta, the Amazonian Queen. Indeed, both have past connections with Oberon and Titania in the fairy world. The audience sees in one set of characters a reflection of another set; in this case Oberon and Titania are reflections of Theseus and Hippolyta and vice versa, through what is known as correspondence. One set of characters corresponds to another set.
‘…the power of suggestion is the strength of the double plot, once you take two parts to correspond, any character may take on mana (an expression of an unseen force), because he seems to cause what he corresponds to or be Logos (the resulting word), of what he symbolizes.’
Empson, W. (1935: 34), Some Versions of Pastoral. New York: New Directions
(For more about mana and logos, see the key terms at the end of this chapter.)
THE SEARCH FOR THE SELF AND THE SELF’S LOVE FOR ANOTHER SELF
In some old medieval stories – such as the one recounted by Chaucer in The Wife of Bath’s Tale – the question arises of what a woman wants to be. The answer is to be herself, like any man. So the lovers flee to the forest to be or to find themselves. But what is that self, what is self-identity? What is the difference between being in love and being infatuated or self-deluded or merely self-gratifying? How do you find your own identity and reality? In this play, despite the opening threat of death, the search is for identity, for the self and the self’s love for another self, and they are portrayed through comic mistakes of identity and excursions into ‘madness’ brought about by Oberon and his mischievous attendant fairy, Puck.
We know from the start, of course, that this is a comedy and that all will, ultimately, be resolved happily. Compare this with Romeo and Juliet, written probably in the same period. Here Shakespeare changes the genre from the comic to the tragic within the play. Romeo, at first, is in love with Rosaline but his love changes from his own fancy almost as swiftly as Lysander’s changes in A Midsummer Night’s Dream under the influence of Oberon’s magic potion that is wrongly applied by Puck. Romeo gives up Rosaline for Juliet, even though we know that both the houses of Montague and Capulet are involved in a long-standing feud. His friend Mercutio tells him that being in love is being enslaved by the Fairy Queen, Mab, and soon after this the potentially romantic story turns sour. At the midpoint of the play, Mercutio, the cousin of the Prince, is killed in a fight with Juliet’s cousin, Tybalt, leading Romeo in the heat of the moment to avenge his friend’s death by killing Tybalt. Although the Prologue to the play has informed us from the start that the play will show that the lovers will take their own lives, it is at the point of Mercutio’s death (3.1.75f.) that the play moves into the tragic mode. The Queen Mab dream turns into a nightmare, with Mercutio’s death leading eventually to the tragic deaths of Romeo and Juliet.
In A Midsummer Night’s Dream there is a blurring between dreaming and waking, between the ‘dream’ and ‘reality’, but in Romeo and Juliet the opposition is ultimately between life and death. In both cases, but in different registers, the stage imitates issues of uncertainty that pervade existence. While I was writing this chapter, my three-year-old granddaughter, playing with her toys and lost in a fantasy world, suddenly stopped and asked, ‘I am real, aren’t I? I’m not pretend?’ She was told that she was not pretend and went happily back into the imaginative fantasy world in which she was playing.
In A Midsummer Night’s Dream the question ‘I am real, aren’t I?’ is being asked by some of the characters as they eventually awake from their dream. What is it to be awake or asleep, to be real or pretend? How does a child, a lover, know what is real, know what love actually is? What is it to be oneself? This is not a problem for aristocrats alone or one for the learned. It is a question for everyone, whatever their station in society as they start to define their individuality through that society.
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Identity and the individual
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As we will see later in our discussion on tragedy, the concept of the individual as defined by the society in which he or she lives was beginning to be understood at the time of the Renaissance and Reformation. As England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland as geographical locations were becoming important in the formation of a sense of national identity, traditional religious explanations concerning truth and authority, society and the individual were being questioned. With the growth of Protestantism and the challenge to the authority of the Catholic Church, the concept of a secular individualism was developing in an increasingly commercial society that was on the cusp of developing into what we now recognize as capitalist.
THE DREAM METAPHOR
The dream metaphor in A Midsummer Night’s Dream is used to generate the humour of the mistakes that are made. The love potion placed on the wrong lover’s eyes by the fairy, Puck; the punishment meted out to the Fairy Queen, Titania, for not doing as the Fairy King wants; the translation of Bottom, the weaver, into an ass with whom Titania falls in love: all these events border on cruelty and the grotesque but are rescued for comedy by a certain distancing of the action. The characters affected by the potions administered to them by Puck are in a dream, but we as an audience are both self-conscious and at the same time open to the prospect of being bewitched as we enter into the play’s bewitched narrative. We are watching a dream by being in the theatre, but we are also drawn into it.
‘The whole night’s action is presented as a release of shaping fantasy which brings clarification about the tricks of strong imagination. We watch a dream; but we are awake, thanks to pervasive humour about the tendency to take fantasy literally, whether in love, in superstition, or in Bottom’s mechanical dramatics.’
Barber, C. L. (1959: 124), Shakespeare’s Festive Comedy. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press
While more recent criticism has shifted emphasis to the social and historical context of the play by pointing to the political realities it exposes, Barber’s comments still hold some force, although they need to be tempered. Towards the end of the twentieth century, the cultural materialist critic James H. Kavanagh argued from a more politically oriented position:
‘[The play exposes] a set of pre-conscious image-concepts in which men and women see and experience, before they think about their place within a given social formation, with its specific structure of class and gender relations.’
Drakakis, J. (ed.) (1985: 145), Alternative Shakespeares. London and New York: Methuen
There is no doubt that, politically, Shakespeare had to be very careful within the play; as it was probably watched by Queen Elizabeth I, he didn’t go too far in drawing contemporary parallels. The Queen herself was known as the ‘Fairy Queen’ or the ‘Virgin Queen’, so to have a Fairy Queen ‘enamoured of an ass’ – a creature renowned for its large genitalia – could have had serious consequences for the dramatist if not handled carefully within the framework of comedy. The Queen at the end of the play is assured that, as with other members of the audience, she has been witnessing the comedy, and like the audience generally she, too, has been dreaming:
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber’d here
While these visions did appear.
(5.1.417–20)
The concept of the play as a dream isn’t uniquely Shakespearean. The Elizabethan dramatist John Lyly perhaps set a precedent in the Prologue to his play Sappho and Phao (1584), when he entreats the Queen to imagine herself at the conclusion to have been in ‘a deep dream’. Dream poetry is also notably plentiful in medieval English literature.
Shakespeare asks that the play itself be regarded as a dream, in which the characters themselves enter into a dreamlike world in which they are subject to a wide range of fantasies. For example, Hermia, having fallen asleep, wakes from a nightmare:
Help me, Lysander, help me! Do thy best
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here!
(2.2.144–6)
But she finds that Lysander has left her alone because he is now under the influence of the love potion and has gone in pursuit of Helena. The dream motif in the play is multilayered. Hermia has had a dream of danger and, in the story of the play, has awoken to the ‘dream’ of the forest, and yet all this occurs for the theatre audience within a performance that the dramatist is encouraging it to regard as dreamlike.
On awakening, the lovers talk of their experiences. Demetrius says, ‘These things seem small and undistinguishable,/Like far-off mountains turned into clouds’ and Hermia remarks, ‘Methinks I see these things with parted eye,/When everything seems double’ (4.1.186–9).
Bottom, on awaking from his ridiculous fantasy, thinks he is still rehearsing the Mechanicals’ play for the wedding of Theseus and Hippolyta, ‘When my cue comes, call me and I will answer. My next is “Most fair Pyramus”’ (4.1.199–200). But, finding himself alone, he reflects on the events of his own dream: ‘I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was’ (203–5); he concludes that his fantasy should be made into a ballad written by Peter Quince, to be sung at the end of their performance before Theseus and Hippolyta. This is an example of metatheatre, in which the character refers self-consciously to the nature of the play, the story of which he says should be made into a ‘ballad’, into an entertainment, which, of course, is what the play actually is.
ELIZABETH, THE ‘IMPERIAL VOT’RESS’
In all of this, Shakespeare flatters Queen Elizabeth by simultaneously associating her with Titania and yet almost simultaneously deliberately distancing her from that association. Queen Elizabeth’s virginity was part of the myth of the authority that surrounded her person, as demonstrated in her ‘chastity’, ‘constancy’ and her ‘marriage’ to the realm. So, in Act 2, Scene 1, lines 158 and 161–4, Shakespeare has Oberon tell Puck that he once saw Cupid shooting an arrow at ‘a fair vestal, throned by the west’, that is, the English Queen, but that the ‘fiery shaft”/[was] Quench’d in the chaste beams of the watery moon;/And the imperial vot’ress passed on,/In maiden meditation, fancy free.’
There is a reference here also, perhaps, to Elizabeth’s visit in 1575 to the Earl of Leicester at Kenilworth Castle. The visit might have suggested a possible romance between the Queen and her vassal, ending in marriage, but on this occasion it did not. The ‘imperial vot’ress’ departed ‘in maiden’ determination to remain wedded only to her realm. As we will see in discussing Richard II and Macbeth, for example, Shakespeare had to take great care not to be seen to insult his monarch Elizabeth and, later, King James. Who actually knows what happened between Leicester and his monarch in 1575?
CRAFTSMANSHIP AND RESOLUTION
A further element of the dramatist’s craftsmanship in the work is that, within the construction of this dream play, Shakespeare uses some sublime poetry to transport the audience into the realms of fairyland. Oberon uses the full resources of poetry to instruct Puck to administer the love potion to her eyes:
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine.
(2.1.249–52)
It is as if the language within the dream of the play actually takes the audience to the place where:
…sleeps Titania sometime of the night,
Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight;
(2.1.253–4)
Oberon, the King of the Fairies, has the power within the play to correct Puck’s errors and his own vindictiveness towards Titania, but he can also ensure that the love potion is correctly administered to the two pairs of earthly lovers. In the end, he releases Titania from the spell, lifts the ass’s head from Bottom’s shoulders and allows the lovers to find the correct partner, which leads to the marriages they wish for and to the assent of the reluctant Egeus. Through correspondence – Oberon with the Duke Theseus and Titania with Hippolyta – Shakespeare implies moreover that the resolution in the fairy kingdom guarantees the resolution in the earthly one.
In modern performances the same actor occasionally plays Theseus and Oberon and the same female actor – in the Elizabethan theatre a boy actor – Hippolyta and Titania. The plot, developing from the foundations of the structure, allows for reconciliation and a ‘happy ending’. In A Midsummer Night’s Dream the disasters are averted first of all by the corrective authorized by Oberon and secondly by the way in which the potentially tragic performance of Pyramus and Thisbe by the Mechanicals is subjected to a hilariously comic treatment, the result of their own thespian incompetence. With Romeo and Juliet we find some of the same ingredients but they are treated very differently.
Romeo and Juliet
In Romeo and Juliet we see that the reverse occurs in the end, since the attempts by a controlling agent to bring about reconciliation go wrong in the story. Juliet drinks the sleeping potion, which makes it look as if she is dead, but she will awake once she is within the family’s burial chamber. Word will be sent to her banished lover Romeo who, like a Prince in a fairy story, will be with her when she wakes. They will embrace and escape all their difficulties. But Friar Laurence, though a member of the Church, is human and the reality of the situation proves very different from that in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
It is almost as if Shakespeare is using his structure to answer the question ‘But what if?’ applying it to different scenarios. In this case, what if the fairy tale does not run its true course because circumstances beyond the control of the characters do not allow it to do so? What happens if the fairy-tale prince is ignorant of the friar’s plan and thinks that his princess is really dead? Here, Shakespeare is engaged in deconstructing a familiar fairy-tale motif, and refusing to allow the artifice of a dream to provide for reconciliation. As Hamlet is later to note, death and sleep, although at first they may resemble each other, are not the same. In Romeo and Juliet we have Shakespeare experimenting with formal alternatives to allow for the creation of tragedy.
In A Midsummer Night’s Dream, when the antidote is administerd and the victims awake, they do so, as we have seen, with ‘parted eye,/When everything seems double’ (4.1.188–9). In Romeo and Juliet, when the ‘meddling friar’s’ potion wears off, Juliet finds that Romeo has already killed himself. Ironically, his dying words are, ‘Thus with a kiss I die.’ She awakes and, having kissed Romeo to share his poison, stabs herself with his dagger. Interpret the structure one way and we have a comedy, of the kind when Bottom, as Pyramus, comes back to life after he has stabbed himself; take it the other way and we have, within the mimetic framework of the play, a tragedy. But the structure itself holds both possibilities together, allowing us to conclude that tragedy is the obverse of comedy.
NO FAIRY-TALE SOLUTIONS
Romeo and Juliet concerns itself more explicitly with social political issues; the feud between the Montagues and Capulets sets the scene that leads to the deaths of Mercutio and Tybalt. The search and the expression of the self through love is what takes Romeo, a Montague, into the very home of Juliet, a Capulet, and leads, after the death of Tybalt, to him becoming ‘geographically’ distanced from Verona. There he hears the news of Juliet’s death but not of the plan to unite the lovers because Friar Laurence’s messenger is detained in a place where the plague is rife. Romeo’s cousin Mercutio’s dying curse anticipates this complication: ‘A plague o’ both your houses’ (3.1.107). Earlier in the play, Mercutio has ranted against Queen Mab, ‘the fairies’ midwife’, who ‘gallops night by night/Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love’ (1.4.54, 70–71). But as the action develops, the dream turns into a nightmare.
To find its full force and the way Mercutio’s famous Queen Mab speech works, you might like to try to declaim it out loud. You will find that it gathers pace to a point almost of incoherence, of getting out of control – forcing Romeo to stop him: ‘Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace./Thou talk’st of nothing’ (95–6). To this, Mercutio responds:
True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air
And more inconstant than the wind, who woos
Even now the frozen bosom of the north
And, being anger’d, puffs away from thence
Turning his side to the dew-dropping south.
(1.4.96–103)
These dreams of love and the ‘madness’ that they induce in the lovers are, within the context of the real environment, too innocent, born of fantasy. They are in a sense wish fulfilments that emerge from a Neoplatonic concern with the intangibly spiritual predilections of the lovers, who in the reverie are elevated beyond the physical world. In Romeo and Juliet the difficulties of the physical world interfere with the dream, to produce devastating tragic consequences.
In one of Shakespeare’s final plays, The Tempest (1611), Prospero brings an end to a masque that he has presented to his daughter Miranda and her intended husband, Ferdinand, by admitting that:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air;
(4.1.148–50)
The revels, the plays, the fairies and the dreams are all metaphors of the way in which art represents the twists and turns of life, leaving in the end nothing behind. They are ‘such stuff/As dreams are made on’, exposing along the way the conduct, conversations, accidents and ideologies in ‘our little life’ that underpin the social environment in which we exist, but where we find that it ‘is rounded with a sleep’ (The Tempest, 4.1.156–8).
INNOCENCE AND NAIVETY
In Romeo and Juliet there is innocence in the immediacy of the protagonists’ love for each other – but also naivety. The lovers wish to transcend the limits of the social world and the responsibilities they have towards their respective families. Romeo tries to prevent the fight between Mercutio and Tybalt, but the former is stabbed under Romeo’s arm and killed. The Duke in the play is the embodiment of the law but he cannot control the violence that the historical feud has produced. The lovers try to escape from the feud but they cannot. Even at the end of the play, in their sorrow, Montague and Capulet can only resort to their inanimate wealth to compensate for their grief. Montague promises to erect a statue ‘in pure gold’ (5.3.299), and Capulet reciprocates in a similar vein.
The friar’s meddling is like Puck’s; it goes wrong but cannot be corrected because there is no Oberon to rectify the errors of the friar’s attempts to effect a solution since the political problem itself is too great, even for the ‘innocent’ lovers to overcome. This is their naivety, a naivety in a belief that dreams of happiness and reconciliation can overcome and transform reality.
Romeo and Juliet are victims of a social breakdown rather than a social order. In youth and innocence, they believe they can rise above the identities inscribed in their names and the language that determines their being. Juliet asks, ‘What’s in a name? That which we call a rose/By any other name would smell as sweet’ (2.2.43–4). But Tybalt, cousin of Juliet Capulet, kills the Prince’s cousin Mercutio, friend of Romeo Montague. Romeo avenges his friend’s death, only in turn to be banished by the Prince who has lost his kinsman. The two lovers lack understanding of the full implications of the social determination of identity itself, of peace and concord. Shakespeare, as we will see later, also explores this theme in another, possibly earlier, comedy, The Taming of the Shrew.
The social situation reflected in the quarrel between the Montagues and Capulets and in the protagonists’ intense love turns out to be as inanimate as the golden statues to be erected in their memory, as cold and unproductive as death itself. Romeo and Juliet are not characters of high rank of the sort that we find in the later tragedies; they are young and in their youth they refuse to conform; but they also represent the future of society. Juliet refuses to marry Paris in defiance of her father, just as Hermia refuses to marry Demetrius in defiance of Egeus, but here the tragedy is framed within the social context of hatred and ecclesiastical meddling in earthly issues, and by the general political inability to create a sustainable peace in a society that is out of control.
Romeo and Juliet is not an ‘innocent’ play or a play about ‘innocence’, as some may be tempted to surmise. It is a play that structurally moves from an early comic narrative to a tragic one, but with a particular care for the details of dramatic form by an exponent of consummate dramatic craftsmanship.
‘Romeo and Juliet …is architectonic in layout and design, its action punctuated by the three appearances of the Prince, always as an authority figure…The play’s characters are carefully conceived to complement and contrast with one another, the preparations for the Capulets’ ball at which Romeo first sees Juliet are ironically echoed by those for her marriage to Paris, and each of the play’s three love duets – one in the evening…the second at night…and the third at dawn…is interrupted by calls from the Nurse. Before Shakespeare started to write…he must have worked out a ground plan as thoroughly as if he had been designing an intricate building.’
Wells, S. (2002: 141), Shakespeare for All Time. Basingstoke and Oxford: Pan Macmillan
From dream to nightmare
Let us sum up these two plays by returning to the questions at the beginning of the discussion. What kind of dream is it that Shakespeare creates in A Midsummer Night’s Dream? It is a metaphorical dream charting one of a number of directions that drama can take, leading in this case to comedy. By contrast, in Romeo and Juliet, what appears at first sight as a dream that Mercutio claims is a ‘vain fantasy’ degenerates into a nightmare of unresolved social tensions and issues that lead to tragedy. As for whose dream it is, we have to say that, although the characters of A Midsummer Night’s Dream are all part of the dream within the play, and although we who are watching the play are invited, like Queen Elizabeth, to think of it as no more than a dream, the play written by the playwright and acted out by the performers may itself be the dream. It may be a fantasy reflection of the variety of experience found in life itself, along with a series of imaginary resolutions to the problems it raises.
How does Shakespeare achieve all this? The answer is through a tightly controlled plot held together by an underlying structure and communicated by language and the action. But, once performed, the dream ends; it is gone until, of course, it is time to perform it again, when the environment within which we exist may have changed, imposing different readings and interpretations on the play and creating radically different performances. Shakespeare retains a solid but nonetheless flexible structure beneath his plays, together with tightly constructed narrative lines, and through this combination the dramas are able to withstand and indeed prompt changing interpretations. With this in mind, let us move on to consider one of his principal building materials, language.
The Renaissance is a term describing what is now often called the Early Modern period of Western history. It refers to a ‘rebirth’ of interest in classical writers, myths and ideas, in a period stretching from the late thirteenth century in Italy to the mid-seventeenth century elsewhere in Europe.
The Reformation was a movement of ‘reform’ in the Church, leading to a break from Rome’s control over Church doctrine. It was a rebellion against the excesses of the Catholic Church and a challenge to the authority of the Pope. The protestors were led at first by the German monk Martin Luther, who in 1517 attacked Church practices that he felt needed to be reformed. Those who followed his ‘protests’ became known as Protestants (see Chapter 24). They believed that Church doctrine should be founded on biblical texts as the only source of truth. The Reformation in England took place during the reign of Henry VIII, with the dissolution of the monasteries and the secession of England from the authority of the Roman Catholic Church.
Mana and logos are terms used by the poet and critic William Empson in his explanation of correspondence. During the 1930s the word mana became one of intellectual interest, particularly for cultural anthropologists. It is a word found in Polynesia and other South Seas communities, the meaning of which varies slightly. It refers to the power and prestige that in Polynesian culture were attributed to a supernatural force. Mana is found within a person. It does not necessarily come just from birth. It can develop within a leader but is not acquired. Empson also uses the term logos in his chapter on the double plot in Some Versions of Pastoral (2005). The Greek word logos, ‘word’, is from Western culture and particularly the Bible. The opening of St John’s Gospel states, ‘In the beginning was the Word [Logos], and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.’ Logos, the Word, is the origin of all things. By bringing two heterogeneous terms from different cultures together within his critical perception, Empson points out the incongruous correspondence between the two different words, which each help to explore the other, just as in plays there is a correspondence between various characters in a main plot with characters in a subplot, which helps the audience to explore and elucidate the play as a whole.
Could this have been done if Shakespeare had maintained just a single action as required by the three Unities? Aspects of The Comedy of Errors show that correspondence of characters is possible within a play broadly following the Unities. It is more clearly manifested, however, with double-plot structures and their narratives. Empson, in proposing the idea in the 1930s, was decades ahead of his time. I will be talking about correspondence at various times on our journey, with Hamlet or with Troilus and Cressida, for example, which is a play that Empson discusses as an example of how correspondence works.
For further definitions, see Chapter 24.