The Two Noble Kinsmen by William Shakespeare and John Fletcher

Ah, the Shakespeare Wars. Did Shakespeare co-write The Two Noble Kinsmen? What parts did he write? It is generally accepted now that Shakespeare and John Fletcher collaborated on this play, as they did on Henry VIII. 

Fletcher was Shakespeare’s successor at The Kings Men after Shakespeare retired, and it appeared he was groomed for the job. The two collaborations (plus a third that is lost) are the last works we have from Shakespeare. For some reason, my Complete Shakespeare contains Henry VIII, but not The Two Noble Kinsmen.

Because of Covid-19, theaters are closed here in California, and the Utah Shakespeare Festival is cancelled. Thus, I doubt I am going to have many chances to see live theater in the near future. We have been getting by with video sources, even though they are not the same. I didn’t review it, but Phantom of the Opera was on YouTube for a weekend, and the kids and wife watched By Jeeves one night. 

But best of all at this point, The Globe in London is releasing filmed performances of various plays, including this one. 

The plot of The Two Noble Kinsmen is taken from “The Knight’s Tale” in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. Chaucer borrowed most of the story from Boccacio.There are references to two prior stage adaptations of the story in various writings, but the originals of those have been lost. Thus, Shakespeare and Fletcher’s version is the first that survives. 

There are a few changes from the original. A framing story is added to explain the battled which sets the plot in motion. The prison escape is different. But other than that, it basically follows Chaucer’s tale. 

The play opens with three queens presenting a petition to Theseus and Hippolyta, rulers of Athens. The cruel Creon has dishonored the corpses of their dead husbands, and refused them burial. (Yes, this does appear to be a borrowing from Sophocles. No, Theseus and Creon do not appear in the same story in Greek Mythology - this was Boccacio’s invention.) Theseus agrees to battle against Creon, and wins. 

Fighting on Creon’s side are two aristocratic cousins, Palamon and Arcite. They both loathe Creon’s cruelty, but feel duty bound to fight for their home city. Injured in the battle, they are captured and imprisoned by the Athenians. While in prison, they pledge eternal friendship, and are practically kissing on each other, when they spot Emila, Hippolyta’s sister, walking in the garden. They are so smitten with her that they fight over who has the right to woo her, coming to blows. 

Arcite is released from prison, but banished, after a relative intervenes. Palamon later escapes with the help of the jailer’s daughter, who has fallen in love with him. (This is a chance from Chaucer - in the original, Palamon poisons the jailer.) Arcite disguises himself and gets a job as bodyguard for Emilia. He finds Palamon half-starved in the forest and brings him food and drink - and weapons so that they can eventually fight each other over Emilia. Meanwhile, the jailer’s daughter goes mad over her unrequited love and runs away, eventually taking up with a dance troupe. 

Arcite and Palamon are discovered, and about to be executed, but Emilia and Hippolyta intervene. Theseus agrees to have the two of them fight each other. The winner gets the hand of Emilia, and the loser gets executed. Emilia is horrified (and not too happy about her lack of say in the matter, but...she’s just a woman in Ancient Greece, so…) but Arcite and Palamon are all in - this will solve their dispute, after all. 

Before the match, Arcite, Palamon, and Emilia all pray to their gods. Arcite asks Mars to give him victory in the battle. Palamon asks Venus to give him the hand of Emilia. And Emilia ask Diana to let her marry the one who loves her the best. 

In the event, all three prayers are answered. Arcite wins the battle, but is thrown from his horse afterward and mortally wounded. As he dies, he reconciles with Palamon and gives his blessing to marry Emelia. 

As Theseus says at the end:

Never Fortune 

Did pay a subtler game. The conquered triumphs; 

The victor has the loss; yet in the passage 

The gods have been most equal.

I wouldn’t say that this play is one of Shakespeare’s finest. The language is good (and Shakespeare’s portions flow really well), but it doesn’t reach the heights like in his best plays. The plot is interesting, of course, but it also bears some resemblance to The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Like that play, there are some interesting lines that hint at a non-heterosexual orientation of the characters. While the homoerotic element doesn’t last as long as in Two Gentlemen, the two lead men seem to have a closer than normal bond. 

Even more interesting, though, is Emilia, who seems pretty reluctant to marry. Early on, she mentions a childhood friend who died young, and says she can never love a man like she did Flavina. 

“The true love 'tween maid and maid may be 

More than in sex dividual.”

Her lady-in-waiting, who also seems...close to her, notes that she is breathing hard. Later, while praying to Diana (not Venus, interestingly - she picks the virgin goddess), she says:

This is my last 

Of vestal office. I am bride-habited 

But maiden-hearted.

Shakespeare is full of stuff like this: gender bending, complicated erotic bonds, and an acknowledgement that marriage (in the traditional, patriarchal sense) was an economic and political arrangement superimposed on a tangle of romantic and erotic attachments and preferences. 

While Emilia is reluctant to marry, this isn’t the normal way women in Shakespeare approach love and sex. Usually, the women are far from reluctant. Indeed, they are often more sexually aggressive than the men. The Jailer’s Daughter (never named) is in this category, relentlessly pursuing Palamon as she goes mad. 

She gets a happy ending, though. Her wooer (a young man who is never named) is enlisted to pretend to be Palamon and court her. His kindness and love (and perhaps sex - it is at least implied) wins her over and restores her sanity. By the end, it is clear that she and he will be happily married. 

The production itself was outstanding. It was set more or less in Medieval England, which made sense given the presence of a Morris Dance troupe. The music for the dance scenes (and throughout the play) was composed by Eliza Carthy, and performed by a small ensemble live on stage. (Depending on the piece, there were trombone, guitar, banjo, violin, and various percussion instruments. I heartily approve of this.) 

As Arcite and Palamon, Bryan Dick and Paul Stocker, respectively, were excellent. Ellora Torchia as Emilia was also outstanding - and believably beautiful enough to inspire two guys to lose their heads. The rest of the cast was great - unsurprisingly solid throughout. 

The show was stolen, however, by Francesca Mills as the jailer’s daughter. She is a Little Person with a long list of credits for acting, singing, and dancing roles. She did all three in this, and was just electric. I mean, when she was on stage, you could not keep your eyes off of her. Both in her sane and insane moods, she captured the character perfectly. 

This play will be streaming on YouTube through May 17, if you want to watch it. (Next up is A Winter’s Tale, which I plan to watch as well.) For more information, here is the website. 

 Grand Spectacle

 Arcite and Palamon

 Emilia

***

Over the years, I have seen 27 of the (arguably) 39 plays written by Shakespeare. I am not counting this one as “live,” but it is a wobbler - the video is of a live stage performance, not a movie adaptation. My wife has seen even more than I have, because of her annual trip to the Utah Shakespeare Festival. Anyway, here are the ones I have reviewed on this blog: 

All’s Well That Ends Well*

As You Like It*

Comedy of Errors*

Coriolanus* 

Hamlet* (Benedict Cumberbatch)

Hamlet* (Bakersfield College 2017)

Henry IV (Parts 1 & 2 adapted by Daniel Sullivan)

Julius Caesar*

Love’s Labour’s Lost*

Macbeth*

Measure for Measure

Measure for Measure* (BC 2018)

The Merchant of Venice*

Much Ado About Nothing*

Othello*

Pericles, Prince of Tyre*

Richard II

Richard II (Old Globe San Diego 2017)*

Romeo and Juliet*

The Taming of the Shrew*

Twelfth Night*

The Two Gentlemen of Verona*

* indicates the ones we have seen with at least some of the kids.

How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents

Source of book: Audiobook from the library

From time to time, I have cases that take me out of our local area. To get through the longer drives - particularly when traffic is involved - I like to bring audiobooks with me. Most of my audiobook listening is with the kids on our vacations, so when I get a drive by myself, I pick books that wouldn’t work for younger people. (Although, as you can tell from our listening list, my kids are a bit different in their tastes.) 

I try to read a variety of books, by a variety of authors, and this includes authors outside of the “old, white, and male” group. I try to read books in translation, books by non-American authors, and books with different perspectives. Latin America is large and diverse, of course, so it is a bit overbroad to use the term “Latin American” to describe a single type of literature. That said, I know that I haven’t read as many books from the various romance-language speaking parts of the Americas as I should. I kept running across How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents on lists of essential works by Latinx authors, so I put it on the list. Our library happened to have an audiobook version when I went at the last minute to find something to listen to. 

How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents is the first novel by Julia Alvarez, written in 1991. She had previously published poetry and a few essays (in addition to her teaching job.) Alvarez was born in the United States of Dominican parents, but moved back to the Domincan Republic when she was an infant. Her parents’ first attempt at immigration didn’t work out for them. Ten years later, however, her father got involved in a failed plot to assassinate the dictator, and they had to flee to the United States. She remained here even after the political situation improved, although she spent many summers in the “old country” visiting relatives who remained there. 

This sense of being of two cultures and yet not of either is central to Alvarez’ writing, and is particularly present in this book, which, while not strictly autobiographical, contains a lot from Alvarez’ own experiences. 

The book isn’t so much a novel as a collection of related short stories. There are fifteen stories in all, told from various perspectives, some in first person, others in third person. It would be unfair to say there is no unifying plot, because there is the story of the Garcia girls, but the incidents do not so much form an arc as they do a mosaic of the themes. 

Not only that, but the story is told in reverse order, starting with the “present day” and working back to the childhoods of the sisters. It is divided into three sections, named after the dates - which are also in reverse order. So, the first part is called “Part One: 1989-1972” and tells five stories of the adult Garcia sisters: Carla, Sandra, Yolanda, and Sofia. The second part tells of the adolescence of the girls after they come to the United States. The third section tells of their childhood and how they came to flee their homeland. Within each section, the stories also take place in reverse chronological order. This is a bit disorienting, as Alvarez foreshadows (or is that aftshadows?) the events we hear about later. I’m not entirely sure I liked the format, but I’m probably a bit OCD about it. 

In the story, as in the author’s life, the girls grow up in wealth and privilege - dad is a doctor, but has an inherited estate, servants, and so on. This is why the family is able to escape to the US: he has connections which allow him to get a visa and practice medicine in New York. The childhood incidents are fascinating, but also a bit disturbingly sexual. In the Dominican Republic, an insane sculptor works naked and appears to be getting off on his works - Sandra sees him accidentally. Later, in the US, Carla is harassed by a pedophile. (The scene where she is interviewed by police officers and struggles with her limited English skills is fantastic.) There is an incident of “playing doctor” with a cousin. A certain sexuality pervades the book throughout, in part because, well, life includes sex, and gives plenty of opportunities for significant emotional entanglements. Yolanda has a relationship with a jerk who keeps wanting to fuck her. (His words - his lack of romance is why he never got it.) Sofia takes a trip to Columbia so she can sleep with her boyfriend (no overnights at her parents’ house!), but ends up breaking up with him, meeting this German guy, and (maybe) getting pregnant. When she returns home, she writes him, and he writes back - with naughty details. Dad, snooping around, finds the letters and comes unglued. Sofia flys to Germany, proposes to Otto, and they get married, with a child following...a barely respectable time after. This is actually one of my favorite stories, because Sofia is such a badass when she faces dad down about his violation of her privacy. (At this point, all the children are adults, so it isn’t a “protect the teens” thing. 

Other themes in the book are identity and assimilation. Yolanda is the central character in that sense. She has many nicknames, and it bothers her. She feels fragmented. One of those is simply Yo. Which is the Spanish word for “me.” It is obvious for other reasons too, but this is solid proof that Yolanda is the stand-in for the author. Yolanda too becomes a poet, teacher, and writer. Yolanda seems to struggle with identity the most; indeed, at the end of the story - the beginning of the book - she appears to be tempted to stay in the Dominican Republic permanently yet struggles to express herself either in Spanish or English. 

I could mention pretty much any of the stories as compelling. Alvarez is a good writer, who is particularly excellent in her use of words. The voices of the different characters are recognizably different, as are the voices of the girls as children compared to their voices as adults. A lot of care went into the writing, and the result is delightfully literary. The choice of the backwards narrative and the way things are often assumed but not explained until later means that you really have to pay attention - and remember details so that they make sense later. I am glad that I listened to this mostly in one day. (I had a quarter of it left which I finished in a few days of driving around town.) 

The audiobook we listened to had multiple narrators, one for each of the four girls and one for the third person stories not from the specific perspective of one of them. I confess I don’t recognize any of them (Blanca Camacho, Annie Henk, Annie Kozuch, Noemi de la Puente, Melanie Martinez), and I have no idea which narrator played which character. However, the quality was good, so I give a thumbs up to the narrators. I think the book is actually a good one to listen to, because the Spanglish and accented characters sound so delightful when done right. 

How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents works either as an immigrant story, a coming-of-age story, an exploration of identity, or as just a compelling human story. I am glad I read it, and intend to read more by Alvarez. 

John Ortberg and the ongoing inability of Evangelicals to think ethically about sex

First, the story itself: 

Evangelical megachurch pastor John Ortberg has been placed on administrative leave after it came out that he allowed a man who confessed to having sexual attraction to children (aka a pedophile) to continue to work with children at the church unsupervised - including overnight events. Apparently, Ortberg also did not even bother to inform the elder board of either the decision or the man’s pedophilia. 

Um, that’s pretty bad. That’s intentionally putting children at risk of abuse. 

In my book, that should be an automatic and permanent disqualification for ministry. 

But it gets even more interesting because of how it went down, and who blew the whistle on this. 

Ortberg has a transgender son, Daniel Lavery (formerly Mallory Ortberg) and it is he who, after confronting his father, went to the elder board - which is when this all blew up. 

Apparently, Daniel decided to elevate the issue after his dad basically said “you’re a pervert too, so you have nothing useful to say on how I should handle this.” I think it is safe to say that relationship is now over. (Daniel called it a breach of trust - and I very much agree.) 

I have some thoughts on this whole thing because of my own experience within Evangelicalism. Specifically, this was both thoroughly predictable, and also symptomatic of a deep sickness within Evangelicalism that makes it impossible for Evangelicals to think or act ethically when it comes to sexual issues. 

So here goes:

1. Evangelicalism protects predators

In the ongoing meltdown of Evangelicalism over the last decade or so, this has been a recurring problem. It is, indeed, endemic to the system. From C. J. Mahaney to Bill Gothard to Doug Wilson to Josh Duggar - I could name probably two dozen more prominent cases where church leaders have chosen to cover up child abuse and protect the perpetrators over the victims. 

There are three factors that I believe dictate this pattern:

a. Evangelical beliefs about gender essentialism include the belief that men cannot control their sexual urges, which are not really their fault anyway. Thus, women need to be controlled so men don’t lust, and women are expected to “fix” broken men by catering to their every sexual demand. This in turn leads to a culture in which predatory men are protected from justice. They get the benefit of the doubt in a way that women do not.

b. Evangelicals think about sex in terms of “forbidden” or “not forbidden” rather than in terms of ethics. Thus, there is no difference in their minds between raping children and having consentual premarital sex - it’s all forbidden sex. This means that they treat pedophile predators with the same “grace” that they do couples who get ahead of things, so to speak. This prevents them from seeing sexual predators as just that: predators. If they were recognized as predators, then leaders would focus on protecting their prey from predation. 

c. Evangelicals (just like Catholics and other religious groups) tend to believe that sexual predation is a “sin” problem, not a criminal problem or psychological problem. Thus, a pedophile can “repent” and then is not considered a problem. This is at the root of why churches cover up abuse rather than immediately report it to law enforcement. And it is also why they allow known pedophiles to have access to children. They genuinely believe that it is just another sin that can be repented from and then it will just go away. (Hint: it doesn’t.)

This is one reason why I don’t have our kids involved with church activities. The trust is broken. I have zero confidence that my kids’ safety will be protected. It is more likely that the hurt feelings of a predator will matter more to church leadership. 

This seems like it really should be a no-brainer: err on the side of protecting kids. Hey, didn’t a famous person once say something like that? 

2. Evangelicalism does not actually understand pedophilia

See above for part of this. By treating pedophilia as just another sin - something very much like making out with your girlfriend before marriage - they miss pretty much everything important about it. And that includes the information needed to help those pedophiles who can be helped (and are willing to be treated.) For more on the psychological diagnosis and treatment, this Psychology Today article is helpful. 

For what it is worth, Daniel is the one who seems to understand this - he is compassionate, and expresses his admiration for anyone who seeks to get help for sexual compulsion. (You can read his twitter thread about the incident here - I recommend it.) He also referred the pedophile to an appropriate counsellor. 

Here’s the thing: on the one hand, not all pedophiles are predators. And the recidivism rate is actually fairly low - most people do the right thing. But on the other, there are the predators, who generally share common traits, such as narcissism, charm, and the ability to avoid detection. These predators generally have dozens of victims before they are caught. 

This suggests something pretty damn obvious: a decent human being who finds himself (it’s mostly men) sexually attracted to children would decide to never work with children. It’s no different than a person with uncontrolled epilepsy: that person has no business driving a car, and a decent human being with that problem would never get behind the wheel knowing the damage he or she could cause. This isn’t rocket science. 

So, a person who expresses sexual attraction to children should not work with children. Period. If they are not a predator (and there is no indication at this time that this man ever acted on his urges), then I have no problem with them serving in other capacities or being treated with decency. But they shouldn’t be around children. And if they wanted to be around children knowing their urges, that in itself is a pretty good indication that they are in fact a predator. 

In light of this, just how horrifying is Ortberg’s decision? He literally encouraged a pedophile to continue to work unsupervised with children! What the actual fuck?!! Of all the things to do, that was literally the worst possible choice. 

And he couldn’t have asked for advice from his elder board? That’s problematic. (And also pretty much par for the course with Evangelical pastors in my experience.) Better yet, he might have asked advice from the mothers of small children in his congregation. But, well, women don’t really matter in Evangelical culture - they believe God wants only men to lead. 

3. Ortberg’s treatment of his son is thoroughly sickening

When I read Daniel’s thread, my jaw hit the floor and I felt nauseated. Because what Ortberg said was thoroughly sickening and disgusting. 

Let me be blunt:

Ortberg repeated the LGBTQ version of the “blood libel.” 

Let me explain that one. During most of the Middle Ages, one of the nastiest antisemitic belief was the “blood libel.” The church, sadly, encouraged a belief that an important Jewish ritual was murdering and draining the blood of Christian children to use in making matzah. 

Evangelicals have their own version of this, which is that LGBTQ people are all sexual predators who want to rape and molest children and turn them gay. (And, of course, the related idea that transgender people only do what they do so they can get into the “wrong” bathroom and rape innocent women.) Just as in the case of antisemitism, this gross slander of LGBTQ people is used as justification to persecute and perpetrate violence against them. And to legislate their rights out of existence.

So look at that again: Ortberg told Daniel that because he was a “pervert” too that he had no standing to suggest an alternative. Oh, and also said that homosexuality and pedophilia are similar. Yep, “you’re transgender which is similar to pedophilia so you are just as much of a threat as the pedophile is.”

Seriously sickening.

Daniel’s statement that this breaks the trust he once had with his family is an understatement. This is more like using a thermonuclear weapon to burn a bridge. If my parents ever did that, I would never be in their presence again - and they would not be around my children. 

This also illustrates the reasons that Evangelicalism finds itself completely unable to discuss sex in an ethical way. 

When you conflate the sexual assault and abuse of children with a loving and consensual same-sex relationship, you have already failed to make the most important ethical distinction. Consensual sex is NOT the same thing as rape and predation. It is not. And Evangelicals wonder why nobody gives a fuck about what they say about sex? Maybe because they show more sympathy for predators than for victims? Maybe because they can’t bring themselves to acknowledge that consent matters? 

And maybe because they insist on slandering LGBTQ people, who are no more likely to be predators than cishet people. 

Side note: I cannot help but feel that there is also an element of misogyny at work here too. I’ve spent enough time in Evangelicalism (4 decades!) to have seen time and time again a woman’s legitimate concerns pushed aside by a man who knows better. Women are (in practice and sometimes in theory too) expected to sit down, shut up, and know their place. 

So in this case, “You are really a woman, no matter what you say, and God speaks to me as a leader, not to people like you.” One of my theories about why Evangelicalism has gone so far off the moral rails is that they have systematically excluded women from decision-making at the higher levels. I cannot imagine that an elder board with equal representation for women would have supported Ortberg’s decision. 

4. Daniel Lavery deserves nothing but praise for his actions in this matter.

Seriously. At the cost of his relationship with his parents, he did the right thing. Multiple right things. 

First, he gave outstanding advice to the pedophile (who seems to have wanted to do the right thing himself): get treatment, get out of situations where you might be a risk to children. 

Second, he gave his father the chance to do the right thing. 

Third, when that didn’t work, he elevated the issue. Fortunately that worked. I hope Menlo Church does the right thing and permanently removes Ortberg from ministry - he is clearly unfit for leadership. [Note: I’m not holding my breath.]

Fourth, his statement on twitter is outstanding. He was clear about the situation, but without hyperbole. 

I don’t know if he will run across this blog, but if he does: Daniel, I admire you and support you one hundred percent. The world is a better place because of what you did. 

Having had a difficult relationship with my own parents over religious and political differences, I feel the pain too, although obviously not to that extent. It hurts when those you love choose toxic religious dogma over relationship and understanding. 

***

Note on Daniel Lavery:

Daniel Lavery has written for Slate.com, first as Mallory Ortberg, then Daniel Mallory Ortberg, and now Danny M. Lavery. I first ran across him there. 

In addition, he has written a few books, including The Merry Spinster, which I read last year. It is an enjoyable and bizarre mashup of fairy tales and other stories, with a decidedly gender-bending flavor. If you want to support him, why not buy one of his books?

Update: The Washington Post did a piece on Lavery recently. 

UPDATE JULY 2020:

Well, it turns out to be even worse. The pedophile in questions is....wait for it.....another of John Ortberg's sons.
So this isn't just bad judgment, it is nepotism and hypocrisy. One set of rules for the leaders, another for everyone else. And a bit of sibling favoritism in the bargain. Color me unsurprised. My own experience in my family is that theological and gender orthodoxy are valued above any virtues, and that following those rules entitles certain family members to a pass for psychopathic and abusive behavior.

Note on the use of the “Dead Name”:

It has been brought to my attention that it is problematic to refer to the former name of a transgender person - the old name is their “dead name.” In this particular case, I am uncertain how to handle things, because Daniel Lavery is a very new name for someone who has written a lot under both the actual dead name, and under his “maiden” name (for lack of a better term - I propose the use of “swain name” for those men who buck tradition and take their wives’ surname). In fact, his latest book, Something That May Shock and Discredit You, which comes out later this year, is published under “Daniel Mallory Ortberg.” Lavery does not have an official author website, alas, or I would just link to that. 

Anyway, this is an uncomfortable compromise no matter what, and I would prefer that readers be able to locate Lavery’s writing under all pen names, past and present. 

As is always the case, to the extent that I can, I try to accommodate the wishes of the author as to names and pronouns. Daniel, if you run across this post, feel free to contact me and help me out here.