Playhouse and Cosmos: Shakespearean Theater as MetaphorPlayhouse and Cosmos systematically and comprehensively describes the function of theater and role-playing as metaphors in Shakespearean drama. The author examines this metaphor's revelatory and liberating power and concludes by affirming, with Shakespeare, the creative power of theatricality in life and in art. |
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Contenido
23 | |
Reality in Play Playhouse as Emblem Performance as Metaphor | 45 |
Reality and Play in Dramatic Fiction | 67 |
Theatrical Fiction and the Reality of Love in As You Like It | 86 |
Heroism History and the Theater in Henry V | 102 |
From Community to Society Cultural Transformation in Macbeth | 126 |
Conclusion | 148 |
Notes | 152 |
Works Cited | 171 |
Index | 185 |
Términos y frases comunes
action actor actual appearance architectural artifice audience becomes calls Cambridge character comedy complex concept Critical defined described desire dimensions disguise distinction drama dramatic Dream Edward effect Elizabethan emblem English established event experience expresses fact feelings fiction final finds force forest France function gives Globe Henry Henry's heroic human ideal imagination important independence inner interpretation John king less London look lovers Macbeth Macduff means metaphor mind mode nature object offers opening Orlando pattern performance play play's players playhouse poetry present projections reality reference reflects relation relationship Renaissance represented requires response Richard role Rosalind says scene seems sense separate setting Shake Shakespeare shape society space spectators speech spirit stage structure Studies subjective suggests symbol theater theatrical things thought tion traditional transform turn University Press witches withdrawal York
Pasajes populares
Página 127 - This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed The air is delicate.
Página 54 - Now entertain conjecture of a time, When creeping murmur, and the poring dark, Fills the wide vessel of the universe. From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, The hum of either army stilly sounds, That the fix'd sentinels almost receive The secret whispers of each other's watch...
Página 113 - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ; Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, As modest stillness and humility ; But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger ; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage.
Página 136 - Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost.
Página 139 - For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
Página 75 - Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind ; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind...
Página 55 - Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, It...
Página 40 - Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, That can denote me truly: These, indeed, seem, For they are actions that a man might play : But I have that within, which passeth show; These, but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Página 90 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons...