Whether you consider King Richard III to be a villainous hog or a tragic hero, there is no denying that William Shakespeare has immortalized a character driven by hate, greed and evil in its purest form. As is common knowledge, Shakespeare was a playwright living during the Elizabethan (and Jacobean) era, so any historical accuracy cannot be expected. Richard and the Plantagenets were by all means a family to be discredited as they had been defeated by Richmond and replaced by the now reigning Tudors. Falling out of favor with the monarchy would indeed be an unwise move, meaning many readers consider the play to be a piece of Tudor propaganda, but one can easily argue that “Richard III” is so much more. It portrays a highly unstable society, the wheel of fortune, and the very nature of evil in a way that is just as impressive now as it was more than four hundred years ago. Richard himself is an unusually well spoken man, but as a hunchback and with a wittered arm, his physical deformity makes his thirst for power. The kingdom is once again prosperous and peaceful after a long civil war, but he is “[…] determined to prove a villain […] To entertain these fair well-spoken days” [….]”. The audience is charmed by several beautifully written speeches preformed by Richard in which he uses the language to his advantage. While his plans are enough to send chills down the spine, he is captivating and highly charismatic. Whether it is the people he is surrounded by or the reader listening to him, it is easy to overlook his malice and be carried away by his almost lulling words. The reader already knows where Richard stands, but it is difficult not to admire him as he begins to unleash his evil plans. As the play progresses, a parade of historical characters enter the stage, but Richard remains in the centre of it all. Throughout the acts he achieves everything he sets his mind to; as eloquently as ever, he knows how to manipulate those around him to follow his orders without asking any questions. Everything seems to be going very well, but as the wheel of fortune turns yet again, Richard’s rise to power is replaced with a decent into madness. One of the highlights of the first acts is Margaret of Anjou’s lamentation over her loss and her thunderstorm of curses. Richard remains calm as ever, but it does not take long before her words start to ring true. After his coronation, Richard orders Buckingham to kill his nephews, the princes in the Tower, but after the slightest hesitation, the king loses all faith in his right-hand man. As the curse goes, “Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv’st, And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends”, Richard slowly gives in to paranoia and his fall becomes inevitable. As soon as the king retreats into his own shell and his once magnificent speeches belong to the past, the people and courtiers soon look through his words and see the man for what he is. The people worry, and it is difficult to sympathize with Richard as he wears the heavy crown. By use of language, Shakespeare paints a very different environment where Richard has given into paranoia, and instead of manipulating those around him, he kills any possible enemy. He remains a shadow of what he once was, and the villain he was so determined to prove cuts a remarkable figure. After the death of his wife, he plots to marry his nice, but war is looming as his noblemen start to flee to Richmond and the battle of Bosworth awaits. Another highlight for me is after Richard wakes up from his horrifying dream the night before he faces Richmond. As he searches his soul, he realizes his greatest fear is none other than himself. “Richard loves Richard; that is, I and I. Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am.” His actions haunt his mind after the parade of ghosts, and we finally see a man terrified by what he has done. It is difficult not to feel sorry for him when he proclaims “O, no! Alas, I rather hate myself, For hateful deeds committed by myself.” Shakespeare paints a striking portrait of a monster that has been forced to face himself, and the depth of the scene is remarkable. Richard becomes more than just his evilness; he is a being who shows that the human mind is capable of deceiving itself and do unspeakable things, and yet he retains his humanity. The more you look into the character of Richard, the more complicated he becomes. It might be difficult to love him, but there is still something vulnerable about him.The play ends at Bosworth with Richard and Richmond each rallying their troops, and Shakespeare shows yet again the stark contrast between the kings; it is a battle between a tyrant and a saviour. Unfortunately the end is quite abrupt, and instead of allowing Richard to rise as the sun of York, he cries out “A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!” Despite a glorious example of ofermot, Richard soon becomes a man who cares for nothing but his own life and is willing to flee the battlefield. What could have been his last triumph turns into a quick death and Richmond’s victory. Whether Richard was the evil king immortalized in this play is not very likely. However Shakespeare shows an extraordinary ability as he explores the human mind and its capacity; he creates a character driven by evil, and yet he is self aware and capable of searching his own soul. Richard’s realization and recognition of himself as the monster is perhaps, for me, the very highlight of the play. He is so much more than a monster; despite horrendous actions, you cannot help but pity him. It is a delicate balance between evil and madness, and Shakespeare handles it better than most.Another thing I find very fascinating about this play is the theme of the wheel of fortune. On and on it goes, and the fortunes of the world rise and fall. The war of the roses has been raging for years, and the power struggle between the noblemen have major consequences for commoners, just as it was during Shakespeare’s time. As Clarence experienced, your closest friends can quickly become your worst enemies. As Hastings experience, you can enjoy the king’s favour one day, only to find yourself executed five hours later. As Buckingham experienced, one step in the wrong direction is enough to fall from grace, and even the slightest hesitation can be your death warrant. With the ruin of one nobleman, there is always another one to take their place; as soon as one king dies, they will crown another. On and on it goes, and England is the one who suffers from it.The play is a fascinating exploration of the human mind and the roots of evil, but even more so, it is a portrait of a changing world where the game of thrones affects everybody regardless of their position. It is beautifully written with remarkable speeches, and it is more than enough to entertain the generations to come. Whether one believes Richard III is the villain Shakespeare immortalized or if he was innocent the whole time, there is no denying that the character will live on as a king people will never stop arguing about.“Richard III” remains as a fascinating study of the workings of evil and a unique look into the human psychology, and while history may have been cruel to him, the play remains a quintessential part of his character. It is well spaced and easy to read, and it is all around fairly entertaining. While it may lack something in details and climax, it is definitely worth reading. Perhaps it may be yet another piece of Tudor propaganda, but regardless of the battle between monarchs, it is an amazing portrayal of humanity and society.
"Richard III," the culmination of Shakespeare's first historical tetralogy, is the direct sequel to "3 Henry VI" but is often performed and studied in isolation, both because it is so much better than the three preceding plays and because it is so peculiarly popular that its relation to them has been somewhat obscured in general perception of Shakespeare's work. In the "Henry VI" plays, the demands of the history genre always seem to set limits on Shakespeare's imaginative freedom, limits only ruptured when Richard of Gloucester delivers his astonishing, zestful declaration of ambitions midway through "3 Henry VI." "Richard III" delivers on all of that scene's promises by both Richard and Shakespeare, in an account of Richard's rise and fall which defies the constraints of historical narrative. Shakespeare's treatment of history is not so subtle as in the two parts of "Henry IV," which set Falstaff in fatal conflict with the genre itself. Rather, Shakespeare sweeps aside the weaknesses of his previous histories by simply subordinating narrative to personality, centering obsessively on the character of Richard to invent the most expansive and forceful fictional personality that he had yet achieved at this early stage of his career. Shakespeare's Richard is not merely an usurper, but monstrously, irredeemably evil. He is also, despite his deformity, intensely charismatic, both to the characters surrounding him and, more importantly, to the reader/audience. Shakespeare, whose art was never constrained by categories of morality, creates in the zestfully vile Richard his first embodiment of theatrical power itself. Without exception, Shakespeare's greatest characters, from Richard through Prospero, are those who remind us of, in Borges' words, "the fundamental identity of existing, dreaming, and performing." Shapeshifters, crossdressers, hypocrites, verbal contortionists, clowns, improvisers - in a word, performers - the great Shakespearean figures revel in multiplicity of identity. They are manifestations of the power of theatrical illusion. Both Viola and Iago, the most benign and most malevolent of Shakespeare's creations, declare "I am not what I am," and this is as true of Richard as it is of them, or of Shakespeare, the actor/playwright who encompassed hundreds of identities without leaving us any trace of his own. Richard is the earliest figure to whom we can apply Hegel's invaluable statement that Shakespeare's great characters are "free artists of themselves." None of the previous histories contains such an extravagantly theatrical being. Richard is many things to many different people, the first of the characters in Shakespeare who seems to invent identities from scratch, and unique among them because he seems ultimately so empty. Where Falstaff is an infinitude of inner being, Richard has no self except for those he presents to the world; even his wicked nature is a pose which he resolves to assume in his soliloquies, likening himself explicitly to the Vice and Machiavel characters, stock theatrical villains. When, in Act 5, he finally attempts introspection, critics have found fault with the crudeness of Richard's poetry, ("What do I fear? Myself? There's none else by. / Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I. / Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am. / Then fly! What, from myself? Great reason. Why?"), but I think that his flailing, fragmented language, which sounds like absolutely nothing else in any Shakespeare play that I've read, creates a startling and remarkable moment, an emptying out of consciousness which uniquely implies the hollowness rather than the transcendency of theatrical illusion. Shakespeare created more sophisticated minds and more powerful performers shortly after "Richard III," but the play's representation of its central figure as a succession of masks - and an unusually entertaining and seductively vile one - makes this play an enormous leap beyond the three parts of "Henry VI."
Do You like book Richard III (2001)?
FIVE PLUSShakespeare for Education, Shakespeare for PleasureI read Shakespeare in high school. In fact I remember being called into the Principal’s office for a parent-teacher conference. I had drawn and colored a picture of a guy and a girl lying in a dungeon with knife wounds everywhere and blood smeared all over the walls. “What is this?” they said. “Why all this blood?” “That’s Romeo and Juliet,” I said. “I like the story.” It’s obvious I hadn’t yet read the story my freshman year but I knew about the two lovers who killed themselves over each other, and that kind of passion intrigued me. I don’t know. I eventually read Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, and several Sonnets, and liked them. I finished reading this, Richard III, today, and feel I’ve come under a spell. What marvelous language Shakespeare uses. Everyone knows this. It’s obvious, but does everyone really know it? It’s different to know than to experience. I’ve experienced the glory of his language in this story. Richard’s a talker, a marvelous talker. In college psychology class we learned of the “Halo Effect.” If you just meet a guy or girl and he/ she’s superhot, smart, rich, drives a BMW, smells like a bacon sandwich and your favorite breakfast food is bacon unless you have a hangover, that first impression stays with you. That impression hangs over their head in your eyes like a halo. So next day when Mr. Right or Queen Hottie meet with you again and they let out that little squeak of a fart over lunch, you don’t smell the rot or look disgustedly at them. You go through “cognitive dissonance;” you hang on to your delusion despite signs of conflicting reality. Richard keeps a halo over his head. Even after he’s murdered many people, his words melted me, made me disgusted with his hypocrisy at first, but I started to fall apart under the spell of his words. This story shows how political leaders can pull the wool of their costumes over the eyes of their people. Words are powerful. I read Hitler’s Mein Kamp, well actually, only like three or four pages until I became sick to my stomach. He said the power of a leader comes through the spoken word, and the fire and zeal of the speech. Richard’s words show the most beautiful language I’ve read from Shakespeare thus far. This story thrilled me, kept me reading. Shakespeare amazes me. In all honesty, I can’t afford to take the classes I want to take right now to learn to write fiction, so I’m learning on my own. Shakespeare’s essential on that journey. Every curriculum includes Shakespeare. I’m beginning to find great pleasure in his work, and will most likely read much more of his plays. I didn’t believe I would find the entertainment I’m enjoying. I talked to someone who had a friend in college a couple years ago. He said his friend had frustrated feelings toward his education because he had to read Shakespeare, and “come on, man, what does Shakespeare have to do with writing?” I respond in the immortal words of sarcasm my wife spouts when she’s had enough: Really?
—Brian
I've been re-reading my Shakespeare. I love this play so much, the language is so rich and lovely. I've also been re-watching all the Shakespeare films, so this is a duel medium review.I hate, hate, hate the Lawrence Olivier Richard III. Firstly, he adds pieces of monologues from other plays to the opening speech, (a speech which is perfect on it's own). Apparently, it was supposed to be under the guise of making it more understandable, but comes off as awful! Add to that the fact that he doesn't seem to adjust his performance for the screen one bit. I have no doubt he was an amazing stage performer, but on film he just makes me gag. The opening speech is nearly incomprehensible - and I know the play! It's all shouting and ACTING. I don't believe for a second that Lady Anne falls for him. I don't believe that anyone wouldn't know that he's a conniving sociopath. Then I watched Looking for Richard. Al Pacino's documentary filming his work on the play. I love Kevin Klein talking about his first time seeing the play, as well as watching some of the cast tackle the work. But there are obvious flaws - Winona Ryder as Lady Anne - is Al kidding? She's like a lesson in how not to perform Shakespeare. And often he seems to think that no American has ever read Shakespeare at all, much less gone to see it. So, some of the stuff he says is just silly. I'm not sure why he took that tack, considering that anyone who was going to see an obscure documentary about an actor delving into a Shakespearean role, was probably going to be a bit of a nerd. In the end it's a little weird, but mostly fun. Then there is Ian McKellen's Richard III. I love him, love the film, love his performance. I can't complain about much with this one, only my big two pet peeves with Shakespeare films - 1. crowds laugh during speeches that are not funny - it's like the director just didn't know what to say to the extras. And 2. "stage" faces from some of the actors when they're listening to said speeches. Damnit, can't they just listen? Otherwise... Awesome.If anyone knows of any other DVD Richard the III's please let me know!
—Cheri
Richard is ugly, and the girls aren't interested. This really sours his attitude. He decides to plunge the country into another ruinous civil war; that'll show the bitches.But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majestyTo strut before a wanton ambling nymph;I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my timeInto this breathing world, scarce half made up,And that so lamely and unfashionableThat dogs bark at me as I halt by them;Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,Have no delight to pass away the time,Unless to spy my shadow in the sunAnd descant on mine own deformity:And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,To entertain these fair well-spoken days,I am determined to prove a villainAnd hate the idle pleasures of these days.Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,To set my brother Clarence and the kingIn deadly hate the one against the otherInterestingly, once Richard has gained some serious political clout, he becomes a lot more attractive. Anne is fascinated, despite the fact that she has publicly cursed him and any woman stupid enough to fall for him. She ends up marrying the person she hates most in the whole world, and, as she bitterly says, her own curse is turned against her.It would be nice to think Shakespeare was making it all up. In Fischer's Nazi Germany, I read that, as far as historians know, Hitler had sexual relationships with seven women during the course of his life. Every single one of them either committed suicide, or unsuccessfully tried to do so. Hitler wasn't exactly a looker either, though, as Diana Mosley never tired of pointing out, he was a very charming man.
—Manny
