Twelfth Night Something Something: A Sequel (because just one isn't enough)

Ok quick pre-script, I tried to make it work but I’m going to want an explanation for what it means to be “in her station,” Scalia. Maybe I’m just tired but I couldn’t get past visualizing a train station.

Can love between classes work?

So, to answer the prompt, yes. Love between classes can work. But that begs another question: will you remain in that class should you pursue that “love?”

In Shakespearean times and earlier than that, love between classes proved to be much more difficult. Heck, love between two enemy families was difficult! Did someone say Romeo and Juliet? But I’m boring myself even, back to the original point, love is able to work no matter. Unpopular opinion: if it doesn’t work, it wasn’t love. However, even more unpopular opinion: making it “work” isn’t always fairy-tale easy.

Why does Sir Andrew Aguecheek decide to stay on as a guest of Toby at Olivia's place? Why is he there to begin with? To party? Something else?
In my opinion, Aguencheek decides to stay on as a guest of Toby at Olivia’s place because he just likes to have someone to follow, that someone being Toby. It has nothing to do with “partying,” unless excessive drinking is considered a party. However, given that the prompt has to do with social class, I am assuming that Aguencheek is hoping to move up from his “knight-ness” and become higher in the class system. Which would make sense because, due to his supposed mannerisms and speech choices, he is probably alienated and isolated from normal “civilization” at times.

Why do Maria, Toby, Fabian, and Feste decide to play such a cruel prank on Malvolio?
Also, Maria, Toby, Fabian, and Feste have a hatred for Malvolio. My original beliefs were just that they hate him because they ain’t him. Then once I got more of a feel for Malvolio’s character, I felt like it was more of his self-proclaimed sense of power over them because of his future with their lady Olivia. However, also given that this prompt is asking about social class, I can begin to sense that maybe it’s hinting that the prank-quad is actually just jealous of his position and his potential of moving up in the social rankings. But I can also see that maybe Malvolio feels threatened by their presence, he feels degraded. Even though my initially processed thoughts were just that some people just have a mean personality.

Is Malvolio really in love with Olivia? If not, why does he fantasize about marrying her?
Malvolio is in love with the idea of Olivia. He loves the power that’s associated with being “in” with the Countess. He fantasizes about marrying her because all of this stored thirst for power he has can potentially ring true. Similarly to how, in today’s society, a guy may date a girl for her looks, Malvolio is interested in Olivia for her power. So, where I don’t doubt that Malvolio does, in fact, get butterflies in Olivia’s presence, I do doubt that he likes her for her personality. He barely knows her! His fetish is power, which is why he fantasizes about it.

Why does Orsino say that Sebastian's blood is "right noble"? Why should it matter?
I find the terminology “right noble” interesting but it doesn’t have much meaning to me personally. If I were to guess what it means, I would say maybe it has to do with (as I’m assuming everything else in this blog prompt does) with social class, social ranking. If his blood is “right noble,” then he must be ranked just under royalty in the class system, I presume. The only reason I can currently come up with as to why it matters would have to be, similarly to Boss Finley’s speech in Sweet Bird of Youth, keeping blood pure and avoiding blood pollution. Weird how they can parallel (would this be an appropriate time to mention juxtaposition, Scalia?). Or like "pure bloods" in Harry Potter. I can see it mattering to Orsino’s royal family, however I don’t see why it applies to Sebastian, given that Orsino isn’t actually interested in him.

And, essentially, social class did play a large role in this play. And those are my thoughts. Now the real Olivia is out.

Twelfth Night Something Something

Upon first glance of the prompt assigned, where I take notice of the truthfulness in the first sentence, “Much of the emotional conflict in Twelfth Night centers around Viola’s charade as Cesario and the perception Orsino has of her,” I also encourage myself to bring out the lack of another important character (and this isn’t just for name-jokes and funsies). I understand that the whole reason Viola becomes Cesario in the first place is because of Orsino’s perception of women other than his only love. However, much of the emotion conflict can be traced back to Viola’s charade; it isn’t centered around it. I believe the drama is dually centered around the confusion Orsino and Olivia share, given that the performance begins with actions with Orsino but grows through the actions with Olivia. So there’s that.

And had I been given direction to instruct the actors to play their characters, I would stray from both the movie we watched and the audio we listened to in class, given that I would not focus on the romance and focus more on the comedy, however, unlike the audio, I would instruct my actors to speak  v e r y   s l o w l y. Ha-ha, take that Shakespeare. But seriously, half the time it sounded like some sort of outer space alien communications between spaceships. But more seriously, I would most definitely coach my actors and actresses to act as if they were all in a comedy, in one huge, confused love trisquaretangle.

My direction would make Orsino less… maybe loved would be the term? Not in a rude, bad way, but in a way where his male servants looked at him a little more like how Maria, Toby, Aguencheek (I won’t be able to spell that by the time the AICE test comes), and the fool look at Malvolio. They’d respect him more than they respect Malvolio but they would take all of his words with a grain of sand. However, Orsino would still be powerful and all, he and all his euniches just wouldn’t be so wimpy all the time. Fencing by day, bathing Orsino by night. Vomit in my mouth. Ha-ha again. Joking because I didn’t actually vomit. Also, I would keep Orsino’s communications with Cesario pretty romantic, because that’s a humor in itself, especially given Shakespeare’s time when homosexuality was very much not represented nor was it written into plays. And, let’s face it, the idea of some big, proud Count guy who claims his love for a mourning Countess actually falling for a short, feminine man who is actually a woman in a decent costume is pretty funny, even today in modern terms. The whole love-confusion is what makes it so funny.

Viola/Cesario would be directed to be more entertained by Olivia, rather than desperately trying to get her point across and desperately trying to please Orsino. In the movie, I felt like Cesario was more concerned for Olivia’s feelings. Where morally, I agree and I would be in the same boat as the movie-Cesario, for the sake of the play, I would encourage Cesario’s lines to be sarcastic. Like “Oh, Olivia, how my master Orsino loooooves you,” or “Wooowwww, let me tell you that you are just soooo beautiful.” And, similarly to Orsino, I would keep Cesario’s interactions with Orsino extremely romantic and her voice and actions stereotypically girly and in a seduction-type way. I.e. twirling her hair, biting her lip, whispering in his ear, you get the picture.

For Olivia (not myself ha-ha) (I should go into comedy for a living), I would make her maybe less sad than she was in the movie and less fake “playing hard to get.” At first in the movie, she tried to hide her desperation for Cesario behind a façade but in my play, she would let all of that desperation hang loose. Because that’s funny. I like how she blows off Orsino in the movie so that can stay. She will just be continually uninterested the moment she hears his name. And he can be like a lost puppy when he hears her name. I think I would have my Olivia regard Malvolio with less respect than in the movie and just be completely disgusted. He’s a weird man.

Also, my apologies for not using the audio play for reference, they talked pretty fast and I could hardly understand much of their voice inflections.

And, finally, Aguencheek. Or Asscheek I guess. He honestly sounded pretty weird in the audio we listened to and not in a funny way just in a weird way. No offense to his voice except that I would definitely not use that same tone and inflection in my play. I liked more in the movie how he seemed to mirror whatever Toby’s action or emotion was, so I would keep that type of mentality for my play. I also liked how he seemed slightly interested in Toby. Slightly, not too much. But I’d keep him as humorous as I saw him in the movie.

Honestly, I could see my play going one of two ways: really good or really bad. There’s no inbetween. Love it or hate it.

The Three Women in One Man's Life

1. Ruth

Being the same reason why she is listed first, Ruth was Gogol’s first true love interest (wow!). He was so eager to break away from his Bengali roots and connect to a girl who knew him as Nikhil - and only Nikhil. He was looking for a woman who would accept him for his new identity, a girl who would accept him for what he wanted her to know about. Gogol was initially connected to the different air she brought about her and carried herself with. He was attracted to how easy their conversation was and her simple features. She wasn’t a beauty star nor was she insanely passionate about anything in particular. She was different than any other woman Gogol was forced to know growing up and she enjoyed getting to know him… At least to the extent that he allowed her to.

Where they appeared to be a strong, centered relationship, they obviously didn’t have enough kinks worked out in soon enough time. They clicked as boyfriend-girlfriend but any sort of advancement or puzzle thrown to them could easily send them in a negative spiral. Just take Ruth’s studies abroad as an example; it only took a couple months apart to mix their personalities up and forget what makes them good for each other. A flaw which proved fatal. However, at the time of the relationship, Ruth was right and good for Gogol. She brought him into the adult world and led him to feel confident in himself as Nikhil. Ruth was the first taste of female he received since his first kiss at his friend’s brother’s college party. And where Ruth was a good factor in starting the change the reader saw in Gogol, she wasn’t a strong enough part of his life to stay, thus leading to the deterioration of their relationship.

2. Maxine

Now, where Ruth was more of a “college-fling” in comparison to Maxine, Gogol’s relationship with Maxine started and ended with a similar fire. In Maxine, Gogol was looking for a woman that made him feel the way Ruth did, however he was looking for someone he could be reliant on like a parent. He wanted a motherly figure in his life, though one who he could still enjoy himself around. And whether Maxine was the motherly figure or whether Maxine’s mother was the motherly figure isn’t explicitly stated, however she was the bridge that connected Gogol post-Ruth to Gogol then. Gogol was attracted to Maxine’s ability to let go of worries and live carefree, while still carrying on a successful and content lifestyle. He admired the relationship she had with her parents and he yearned to be a part of that connection. Maxine loved to learn more about Gogol, enjoyed meeting his parents, and respected his wishes to be referred to as Nikhil even after she learned he was formerly known as Gogol.

Overall, their relationship appeared great while it lasted but, given the intensity it burned with, it was sure to burn out. Where Gogol initially liked how interested Maxine was, when his father’s time came and went, Maxine’s curiosity and interest immediately changed from endearing to annoying. And it was all in Gogol’s perception at that point in time. Gogol believed he was ready for something serious, that he was ready to settle down, but when it came time to prove himself to Maxine and her family, he back away. He forced Maxine to wait for him until he was ready and pushed her away anytime she attempted to achieve a close relationship to any degree. He made Maxine wait for him and he never returned the favor to her. An ending that, though despised, was foreshadowed within the immediate fire between them.

3. Moushumi

By the time Gogol had found romantic interest in Moushumi, he was finally ready to settle down. He had, for the most part, sorted out his priorities, grown to accept his mother and sister back into his life, and desire a connection to someone who would just listen and understand. Moushumi, who had known him previously from Bengali parties with their families and growing up (though uninterested in each other) together, had provided a familiarity and safe haven that Gogol didn’t know he wanted but decided he needed. Gogol was attracted to the same things he spent so much of his life avoiding when it came to Moushumi. He was interested in the sense of home she gave him and all he wanted was someone who understood him.

However, it was obvious from early on that Moushumi didn’t want to be tied down. She wanted to be free to explore her surroundings, to explore the people around her. She wanted to go back to Paris but not as a tourist with her husband who had never been there before. She wanted to find what it’s like to live without having to please anyone. She wanted more time but rushed herself into marrying Gogol. I mean, she didn’t even want to take his last name after the ceremony. The relationship held up minor red flags throughout, but somehow Gogol had convinced himself he was happy. He had convinced himself he had found the person who he wants to marry. Despite Moushumi’s wandering mind, she was the right fit for him when he needed someone who understood him and understood his pains. However, her distancing and disliking and disapproving of Gogol drove a wedge in their relationship, one that was unable to be repaired. And when she began seeing Dimitri in a secret affair while still wearing her wedding band around her finger, Gogol had drew the last straw.

Alien Nation

Alienation: the state or experience of being isolated from a group or an activity to which one should belong or in which one should be involved.

In life, does anyone really “belong” to any group or activity? Sure, apples, bananas, and clementines go together where carrots, celery, and cucumbers go together. But when it comes to people, what determines who “should” or “should not” belong or be involved? Throughout Gogol’s life in The Namesake, he does his best to answer that question.

Starting first with the title, The Namesake itself stands out on a shelf. It’s no “Wizarding World of Harry Potter,” or “The Adventures of Frog and Toad,” which, where you should discourage yourself from judging a book by its cover, it emits an alluring essence. Upon the reader’s first glance at the book, the reader is instantly led to question “What about the namesake? And what namesake?” The title almost alienates itself, as it is left unable to fit into any traditional category or grouping. Through the title, readers are immediately encouraged to consider how the name Gogol will play into problems and connections and, in this case, alienation.

At a young age and at an old age, Gogol avoids alienation to an extent. He has connections with his heritage and with his American roots and his childish outlook keeps him content with himself. When he’s attending Bengali parties and studying Bengali heritage on every other Saturday to when he’s attending grade school and having American friends over for birthday parties, he always feels that he has a group that accepts him. A feeling that, like what happens with most kids-turned-teens, leaves.

Throughout the middle of his life represented in the book, he believes himself to be thoroughly alienated. He doesn’t feel like he deserves to be a part of his American friends and he doesn’t want to be a part of his Bengali friends (or should I say his parents’ friends). Though, where the pre-teen and teenage years prove awkward for everyone, Gogol allows his insecurities to take over his mind and forces alienation upon himself. He desires the idea of “fitting in” so badly that he is willing to sacrifice his family relationships as well as any safe haven he has come to know. He gladly puts his family’s needs last, dragging his feet at their Bengali parties and sneaking out of his house to smoke and party with his friends, and whether that be from the natural “rebellious teenage years” or his annoyance with the constant attention his family seems to seek is up for interpretation. He drives a wedge between himself and his family as soon as he leaves for college, visiting home as infrequent as possible and making up excuses as to why he can’t call back. 

However, through this alienation Gogol forces himself into in his “middle years” per se, he learns how to reconnect himself to a life of acceptance and refuse the impending isolation. He faces trial and error and grows from his failures. He learns, by the time he is 18, that he can be whoever he wants. He begins to battle the struggle he puts himself under regarding his pet name and takes his first step toward determining his grouping with the legal change.

And, though he takes plenty of small steps forward and large steps backwards, at the end of the novel, Gogol, in a sort of child-like eureka, determines that it isn’t up to anyone to tell him where he does or does not belong. It isn’t up to anyone to categorize him and isolate him. He realizes that it has been and will always be he who decides his fate. And where he used to heavily concern himself with what and where he fit in, he learns that he only opinion that matters is his own. And if he wants to connect with his heritage, so be it. And if he wants to connect with his birthplace, so be it. He realizes that every aspect that has affected his life up until now has made him who he is and has determined the group he belongs to. After all of the tribulations he had to combat, he realizes that he can’t escape himself and accepts who he wants to be.

Who? : A Timeline.

Pardon the name confusion within this post. Lol, bear with me.

Identity, quite arguably the most important theme in The Namesake. Two Bengalis, man and woman, travel to Cambridge, America from Calcutta, India. They have a son, born to them in America, of whom they name after a Russian author: Gogol. Which chops that up to a Bengali boy living in the U.S. with a Russian name and a traditional mother. He grew up in American public schools and every other Saturday attended Bengali heritage classes. His mother made friends with as many Bengali families in as many possible areas, which led them to constantly attend and host parties for their large circle. And Gogol grew up hating it, hating that he didn’t know who he was.

0-5 years old. Gogol thought nothing of his name. Like most kids that age, he found himself to be “normal,” capable of fitting in with the Bengali friends he’s made as a result of his parent’s parties as well as the American kids that attend his school. So, naturally, if none of his friends are concerned with their identities at this point in his life, should he be? Kids are known to be the most innocent, before nurture can overtake the nature of their personalities.

6-10 years old. Gogol wants to keep his pet name. His parents decided that his pet name will remain Gogol but they will change his Good Name to Nikhil. He’s enrolled at an American school, delaying his first day by a week to avoid leaving home and making his first major transition away from his mother, and when he goes in with his parents to meet his principal, he refuses to respond to his Good Name. His dad, in a coaxing manner, leans down and convinces “Gogol” that everything is going to be alright… While the principal writes down his pet name in the margin of her paperwork. After his parents leave the office, the choice is left up to Gogol: pet name or Good Name. And at this point in time, Gogol makes the decision that he wants to keep the familiarity of his home close in his mind and the sense of security within him through the enunciation of his five letter pet name. A decision that, as a kindergartener, seals his inescapable identity as Gogol Ganguli.

11-17 years old. Gogol is left confused by his name. It isn’t Indian, it isn’t American, it has nothing to do with him, his past, or what he sees in his future. So what if it’s his dad’s favorite author? It’s not his. He dreads the identity associated with his Russian-based namesake, most intensely noted when he wishes for anything except the lesson on Nikolai Gogol in his 11th grade high school English class. Gogol mentions feeling his entire face turn red and flushed with embarrassment, feeling like all of the kids in his class were staring at him. But, despite his anxiety, each time he looked around the room, none of his classmates gave him so much as a second glance. Was he hoping, somewhere deep inside himself, that his classmates would actually give him a reason to react? A reason to feel humiliated, to feel pained, some hardship he could bring home to his parents to make them feel guilty for ever having associated their American-born Indian son with a depressed Russian author? And, although he never received the dramatic staring, pointing, whispering, taunting, and bullying he was expecting, Gogol still played the scenario in his head a million times over, of what could’ve happened, what he thought should’ve happened, and grew to hate his name even more. His own mentality of how he pictured everyone else seeing him, though incorrect, caused him to isolate himself from more than a few friends, from girls to any degree, and from his family. He let his insecurities take over his identity.

18-25 years old. When he reached an age where he can legally sign US documents, Gogol changed his name. The name he wished he wasn’t given in kindergarten was the name he longed for in high school. Gogol connected a sense of confidence, luck, and strength to the name Nikhil, mostly due to the fact that a girl under the impression that he was Nikhil shared his first kiss at a college party, which drew him to like it so much. He went through college as Nikhil, a different and changed person, deeper than just his name. Nikhil was better equipped with making friendships and talking to girls. Two-thirds of his girlfriends dated Nikhil. But he was still confused with his identity. Does he get to choose the person he becomes? Or is it up to his parents? As Nikhil, he learned the true meaning of his pet name, Gogol. How his father believes he owes his life to Nikolai Gogol. And Nikhil better appreciates and connects himself to his pet name and his father’s intentions and even his mother’s beliefs as he understands the reason behind his namesake.

26-32 years old. Gogol connects with his name. After failed relationships with Americans Ruth and Maxine and Maxine’s inability to understand or comfort Gogol in the time his father passed away, Gogol reconnects himself to his old family friend Moushumi, only to begin to find security in the familiarity she brings. He feels free to open himself as Gogol or as Nikhil, aware that she now knows him as both, as either, and he enjoys how open he can be with her. However, it’s obvious from early on that Moushumi isn’t ready to be tied down, she isn’t ready to jump into eternity, whether she likes Gogol or not. She yearns to be abroad, to be her own person, to keep her own last name and to be with whoever she pleases. Where she also finds security in the heritage that she and Gogol share, she wants to escape it. And her steady disconnection with Gogol and her gradual cutting of ties with him starts the beginning of the end for her life with Gogol. The moment Moushumi starts to crave another man’s touch more than she craves her husband’s, she’s already too far gone. And Gogol is left alone, fatherless, his mother moving out of the country for half the year, his sister happily married, and he unmarried. A turn of events that leaves him, after feeling like he has figured out his identity and proven who he was, questioning everything once again. Leaving him cracking open his copy of Nikolai Gogol’s “The Overcoat” and finding out for himself who his father intended he be.

She's The Man. Oh wait, I mean Twelfth Night

In a rare act of defiance, I, Olivia Watt, will use only She’s The Man gifs and photos throughout this blog. In another side note, I would like it to be known that at this point in time, at 9:20 PM on Thursday April 12th, 2018, that I am only in the beginning of Act 3 Scene 4 of Twelfth Night. But I’ve seen She’s The Man so we all good. *hint hint*

In the twisted comedy, Twelfth Night, love is based on utter romantic confusion. Orsino loves the Countess Olivia who’s in mourning over the loss of her brother but quickly falls in love with Cesario who is actually Viola in disguise as a eunuch that a sailor who saved her life helped her achieve who loves Orsino who is the same guy that’s fully convinced he loves Olivia. Malvolio loves Olivia and the power that would come with her courtship where Sir Andrew loves the ideas of Olivia and manliness and knightmanship put in his head by Sir Toby who seems to have a thing for Olivia’s maid Maria who hates Malvolio. But honestly, everyone hates Malvolio. Also, there’s some 1600’s shade thrown in with references to homosexuality and gender confusion and experimentation. The experimental kinds of love and hidden, secretive loves and overall love despite gender misconceptions all rise to the surface waters in this Shakespearean comedy. Which is where a majority of the humor is found.

Different kinds of love are present in all stages and aspects of life. I love God and roller coasters and my boyfriend and sports. I love food and I love my dog and I love my friends. I loved my parents immediately as a baby. I loved my siblings from the moment I knew they existed. I loved my first crush and my first relationship and I’m going to love my husband. I’m going to love my children and life and so much more. There’s romantic love and take-for-granted love and family love and material love and unreciprocated. There’s situational love and uncontrolled love and appreciative love and purely kind love. But not all of these “loves” take the same form; these different types of love don’t mean the same thing in the same context to any degree. I don’t love my dog in the same way I love running. I don’t love eating rice in the same way I love my dad. And I definitely don’t love my boyfriend in the same way I love indoor plumbing.

Where I’m sure arguments can be made as to love being an overused and overgeneralized term, it’s not up to anyone but myself to determine my definition of “love.” Similarly how it’s not up to me to determine anyone else’s definition. With that being said, it’s not up to me to determine whether some forms of love are better than others to anyone except myself. It’s up to me to decide whether some forms of love are better than others within my own life. And, honestly, I do my best to cherish every form of love I receive. But, in my life, some of the best types of love include the support of my family, the loyalty of my dog, the acceptance of my friends, and the strength in my relationship, to name a few. But who’s to say these are universal perceptions? My perception of love differs from the perception of love in Twelfth Night which differs from the perception of love in Sweet Bird of Youth and The Namesake.

Characters like Olivia and Viola/Cesario fall in love fast and unplanned, without premeditation. Characters like Count Orsino and Alexandra del Lago fall in love without much reasoning or person-to-person knowledge to back it up. Characters like Ashima and Heavenly don’t have much of a choice as to who they fall in love with. And characters like Chance and Malvolio fall in love more with the idea of someone and what the picture of what their life will become rather than the person itself. And just because I don’t empathize with the same types of love doesn’t mean they don’t exist.

Thx Cambridge!

#WhenYouWriteAt6AMButCan’tFindGifsTill10PM

To be honest, I didn’t find any of these three criticisms great. Maybe I’m just becoming an angry writer. Maybe it’s just my “voice.” Who knows.

The first criticism definitely embodied my view of the play and, even then, I wasn’t even quite sure what the first line was trying to achieve! “Southern Gothic horror story.” What exactly is Gothic or horrific about this play? I definitely see the Southern aspect, with Boss Finley trying to protect the “pure blood” of their town by castrating a black man or the mere politics involved in general seem to be the stereotypical problems of the South. Nothing exciting happens down here unless it’s sex! Thanks Tennessee Williams!

But, back to the first criticism, there were parts I agreed with. When Hirsch writes that “As [Chance Wayne’s] name blatantly indicates, though, his chances are waning.” That may be one of the lines I agree most with out of the three criticisms and it was in the first paragraph! However, it then proceeds to go over my head with comparisons to “Val Xavier in Battle of Angels” and by bringing in the criticism of other critics, like Robert Brustein’s puzzled response to Chance’s character. Uh, Foster Hirsch, isn’t this supposed to be your opinion?

Hirsch goes on to then claim William’s said he was unsuccessful with Finley because he just hated him so much. But I feel like that’s what made him so terribly great. Everyone hated Boss Finley, or at least almost everyone in my class did. Boss “believes” that he was called by the Voice of God to serve his town, which is a complete contrast that Williams did a great job setting up. An awfully evil medium for which God can speak through and rectify change through? I don’t think so, Boss. All holy and loving of all but controlling his daughter, castrating a black man, completely opposing Chance’s embodiment of Christ himself, and, to quote Chance, “preaching hate.” Maybe that’s why Boss has such a twisted personality.

However, Firsch did the best job, of the three blogs, touching on the fact that the Sweet Bird of Youth just wasn’t good. It was alright, for sure. It held my attention… sometimes. When Princess wasn’t rambling on about something at least. But there was not enough character development in this play. As Jenna says, everyone seemed so shallow. And I wholeheartedly agree. I feel like the play had weak structure, little to no flow from one act to the other, and it was overall disconnected. None of the criticisms seemed to touch much on that, except for the first one. After an entire paper, he ends with claiming it was “carelessly constructed.” But, despite that negative criticism, he does attempt to end on a positive note which I see no need for. Trying to justify the shortness of the play, the unconnected acts and unsupported characters. But why? This play was no good, that’s ok to admit, no positive justification is needed.

However, I feel like the second criticism didn’t even read the play, they just watched the movie or something and made up all the rest of their critiques out of thin air to hit a word count. How do they know he “only got as far as the chorus of a Broadway production of Oklahoma?” How are they so sure that Chance contracted a disease from a wealthy woman through his work as a gigolo? I feel like there is a lot left unsaid, given that there is only three acts, but Tennessee Williams was so picky about how the entire play was set up, why would he leave the reasons behind why things happen up to interpretation? I feel like the second criticism will gladly make up parts of the story in order to have the puzzle pieces connect, but how can we be sure that Tennessee wanted that to happen? What if the entire play was just that, the play? There is no deeper meaning than that.

And where I feel like the second criticism discredits itself with the huge amounts of interpretation, the third criticism wasn’t much better. The third criticism is longer than the play! Where do they even gather enough information to write that much? In the third criticism, I don’t think they accurately portrays the play in a way I agree with. And Griffin states that Princess and Chance are the two best characters. Uh no? I definitely disagree because Boss was the best character Williams was able to display, despite his awful characteristics. He’s a complete stereotype, mistress and all, and he makes the most sense out of anyone in this short, drawn out play! Finley is a complete contradiction, loving on Miss Lucy in a hotel room but hating on Chance for the exact same actions! How does Griffin know Lucy wanted Chance to leave to protect Heavenly? She doesn’t seem to be too fond of the Finley family that day. And, honestly, I think the third criticism has too many quotes, too much summary, and not enough evaluation.

Overall, I don’t think any of the criticisms touched on my biggest question: WHY? Why was this play written? Why does this entire town CARE so much? Why were they all awaiting Chance’s return? I just don’t understand. And these three criticisms did not help me better understand the reason why this play was written.