by John Aquino on 05/02/18
I was on jury duty this week. As an attorney, I spent some time beforehand wondering whether another attorney would pick me for a jury. He or she might think, I suggested to myself, that I could help guide the other jurors with my knowledge of the law. Or maybe that would be why they wouldn't pick me. As it turned out, the time I spent thinking about this was wasted. None of us who were summoned for jury duty that day served on a jury.
In our orientation session, at 8:30 a.m. the jury commissioner explained that it was expected to be a light day. He noted that sometimes a criminal defendant prepares for a jury trial but when he is told that a jury is ready and waiting decides to accept the prosecutor's plea bargain, just as civil defendants may seek a settlement for the same reason--in both cases, the verdict could go against them. But the court has to have a jury in place anyway, the commissioner said, indicating that he can't tell the judge to come back tomorrow. One of the court's judges also gave a speech to us, saying that as citizens we have a duty to have juries in place and ready and as potential litigants we would demand that as our right. All of which is true. By 10:30, the commissioner told us that none of the circuit court's trials that day required a jury but that, since they also supplied juries for the district court, he had to wait to hear from the district court until 12:30. At 12:30, we were all dismissed without having gone through the jury selection process known as voir dire let alone served on a jury.
But it was all good. As a journalist, I talked to the court personnel and, when we were dismissed, sat in on a trial, just to refresh in my mind the trial experience.
Anticipating that there would be long wait times, I had loaded my tablet with free books that I am entitled to with my subscription. The thing is, many of the ones that are available are public domain books from the 19th century. But I loaded on War and Peace, which I have always wanted to read, and Crime and Punishment, which I haven't read in a long while. Another one was Alfred Lord Tennyson's play Becket, based on the life of St. Thomas Becket, and this was a book of which I had never heard. For various reasons, this is the one I chose to read in the jury lounge.
One reason I chose it was that I thought that it might be easier reading than Tolstoy or Dostoevsky. Another was that I hoped it would turn out to be an undiscovered gem. In my theatre days when I was performing Shakespeare, I used to read obscure plays by Shakespeare's contemporaries, thinking that I could come to the company saying that here was a play that we should perform, a masterpiece that that no one knew anything about. I remember plowing through Thomas Heywood's The Golden Age, The Brazen Age, The Silver Age and The Iron Age, four plays derived from Greek and Roman legends and myths, and finding that they were absolutely terrible. Shakespeare really was a unique talent.
Tennyson's Becket is like that. He was known as a poet ("Charge of the Light Brigade," "In Memoriam," "Crossing the Bar") but also wanted to be a dramatist. Becket wasn't performed in his lifetime (1809-1892), had some performances over the next 40 years, but was eclipsed by T.S. Eliot's Becket play, Murder in the Cathedral in 1935. I read Tennyson's play for about an hour in the jury lounge, through a prologue that was as long as an act and through Act 1. I quickly decided that, great poet that he was, Tennyson had little knowledge of dramatic structure or skill at dramatic verse. In Act 1, he has Becket, who is dubious about whether he is worthy of being Archbishop of Canterbury, say
Am I the man? That rang
Within my head last night, and when I slept
Methought I stood in Canterbury Minster,
And spake to the Lord God, and said, 'O Lord,
I have been a lover of wines, and delicate meats,
And secular splendours, and a favourer
Of players, and a courtier, and a feeder
Of dogs and hawks, and apes, and lions, and lynxes.
Am I the man?'
Such a poetic catalogue of vices and animals! In my mind, I went on, "Of dogs and hawks, and apes, and lynxes, and lions and tigers and bears, oh my!"
After I finished Act 1, I felt that we were nearing the end of Becket's story as I remembered it and looked ahead to see how much more there was. I found out there were FIVE Acts and 102 pages and I was just on page 32. I stopped reading.
I knew the story from other dramatizations of Becket's life (1118-1170) and particularly of his friendship and later friction with King Henry II. There were Eliot's Murder in the Cathedral, Jean Anouilh's Becket (1960), and Paul Webb's Four Nights in Knaresborough (1999). I am very familiar with Anouilh's play, which has two killer parts in Becket and Henry II. When the play premiered on Broadway, Laurence Olivier played Becket and Anthony Quinn, Henry. Quinn was nominated for a best actor Tony Award,, and Olivier wasn't. Olivier decided that Henry was the better part and he and Quinn switched roles, with Arthur Kennedy replacing Quinn as Becket on the national tour. In the 1964 film version, Richard Burton played Becket, Peter O'Toole Henry, both were nominated for Academy Awards and both lost to Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady.
In my reverie in the jurors' lounge, I began to wonder if any of these later playwrights had read Tennyson's play. And this hearkens back to an earlier blog of mine about historians, biographers and critics trying to find cultural and personal influences on the subject of their work. Eliot could have read Tennyson's Becket. He knew Tennyson's poetry and deconstructed it for his The Waste Land (1921). But Eliot's play was likely not influenced by Tennyson's because their poetry has no similarity and Eliot's focuses on Becket's murder in the cathedral while Tennyson's scope is broader, more of a chronicle. I am pretty sure Anouilh wasn't influenced by Tennyson because in his preface for his Becket he describes how he purchased a biography of Becket because its binding would fit in with the rest of the books on one of his library's shelves. He based his play on that book and later admitted that historians told him the book was factually incorrect--Becket wasn't a Saxon in a Norman world but rather a Norman himself Anouilh decided to leave it because the conflict worked better.
The assumption is that playwrights, filmmakers and novelists who write on subjects that others had dealt with before them have read or seen these earlier works. Sometimes they hadn't. An academic scholar named Alan W. Fredman recounted in 2009 how he had made a discovery about Samuel Beckett's (no relation to Thomas) absurdist play Waiting for Godot (1952), in which characters spend the play waiting for a man called Godot (which some people think is another name for God) and who doesn't come. Friedman happened to read Honore Balzac's 19th century novel Le Faiseur (1848), which concerns characters who are waiting for a Monsieur Godot. Anxiously, Friedman wrote Beckett and asked if he had read Le Faiseur and was influenced by it. Beckett said, no. Others have suggested that Beckett, an Irish-born writer who lived in Paris, may have seen the 1936 French film version of Balzac's novel or the 1949 U.S. version titled The Lovable Cheat (co-starring Buster Keaton, an actor Beckett admired) and been subconsciously influenced by it. But we'll never know.
A similar thing happened to me. I wrote my master's thesis on George Bernard Shaw's Back to Methuselah (1922), a cycle of five plays, the first of which is on Adam and Eve. The first half of that play takes place before Adam and Eve are expelled from the Garden of Eden and the second deals with the aftermath. In 1972, the U.S. dramatist Arthur Miller wrote a play about Adam and Eve titled The Creation of the World and Other Business. Sensing an article or even a book there, I wrote Miller, asking if he had been influenced by Shaw. Miller kindly wrote me back saying, no, although he understood why I might have thought that. He said he hadn't read Shaw's Methuselah and if he had the time he would take a look at it. I don't know if he ever did. But the end result for me was no book, no article.
This was my reverie in the jurors' lounge.
Copyright 2018 by John T. Aquino