The Cuchulain of the plays undermines the Cuchulain of the poems. The Cuchulain of the poems is an impersonal force; the Cuchulain of the plays is a vain, grandiloquent twit. Yeats was straining after a kind of mythic drama (he took Shakespeare to task for humanizing his kings) but it's in the nature of theatre to demythologize. You put a god or a hero on stage and he immediately becomes a man- personified in a particular actor- and anything you make him say or do reveals his human character- or lack of it.
Both plays rely on the audience having prior knowledge of the mythos. This is particularly- aggressively- true of the Death of Cuchulain- which has a prologue that effectively tells the unscholarly (and for some unexplained reason, the self-educated) to fuck of and die. This, I would humbly submit, is no way to run a theatre.
Both plays rely on the audience having prior knowledge of the mythos. This is particularly- aggressively- true of the Death of Cuchulain- which has a prologue that effectively tells the unscholarly (and for some unexplained reason, the self-educated) to fuck of and die. This, I would humbly submit, is no way to run a theatre.
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Date: 2013-09-17 08:25 pm (UTC)The play was based on the actual events of his honeymoon, and uses the spirits in the play. Only George can see them and speak to them and she calls on their help to retain her husband's affections.
The guy I cast in the main part had an uncanny resemblance to Yeats. I mean, gasp-when-he-entered-the-room uncanny.
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Date: 2013-09-18 07:40 am (UTC)Yeats was a bit of a bastard, wasn't he? But then poets mostly are.