Monday, November 5, 2007

Questions of Form

Bell in Campo
As Matteo has outlined below, Bell in Campo feels, in many ways, atheatrical and unstageable, resembling a play in the way that the Socratic dialogues resemble dialogue. I was also struck by Cavendish's deference to her Lord of Newcastle, in which she gives him, quite rightly, credit for his contributed verses (even if it does seem vaguely legalistic in its concern with "intellectual property"). I link these two things here because they seem to bear on the same question for me: in what ways does the form of Cavendish's play support or undercut what I take to be the main thesis of the play (that women are capable of being equals with men)?

Does her essentially treatise-like play illuminate the intellectual heights of which women are capable or does it confirm the idea that a little learning is a dangerous thing for a woman since the form seems so inappropriate for the content? And does her own deference to her Lord support her ideal of equality or merely call attention to her position as a woman (since I have never noticed a male playwright ever crediting his woman as anything other than Muse)? Or does her strict attention to this kind of virtuous engagement in equality actually suggest that women are essentially better creatures (more virtuous) than men (which ultimately means that they aren't equal but just that the tables have turned)?

The Convent of Pleasure
What is the purpose of the Mimick's odd question-and-answer speech just before the epilogue? It reads like madness. Does Cavendish mean to cast aspersions on the idea of the epilogue as a necessary component to the drama? Is it just fancy wordplay?

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