My bout with The DaVinci Code had me looking a little more into modern tales and movies for signs of the ‘sacred feminine.’ They remind me of Robert Johnson’s handy booklets He, She and We, not to mention Owning Your Own Shadow (this is where my sister sighs and mutters about narrow, Westernized views of archetypical monomyth being complete bullshit).
And then as Clarice Starling says, I aimed that hah-parhed perception at mah-self. I was thinking of my adaptation of the Greek tragedy Antigone and in some ways it’s a dead-on reference. Antigone is a woman driven to action to bury her dead brother – and in doing so appease the gods and restore balance to the world order. She is entombed for her sins by a power-mad man that would rather deal with politics and the laws of government than the laws of nature and the gods. At that point, I think I blew my own mind. It’s definitely one way to read the play.
Or in Lear you could look at Cordelia, Regan and Goneril as three facets of the same element – four if you count the absent Queen. I’ve always wanted to direct Lear with the Queen onstage – but with no lines. The silent, compliant mother that watches as her husband tears their family apart because his daughter refuses to verbalize those feelings that are belittled by being formed into words. I love that metaphor: I cannot heave my heart into my mouth. I wonder where the mom onstage could inform, transform or refrom the play.
Anyway – it’s one lens and collection of symbols to use in analyzing a play. Just like looking at Macbeth’s ultimate fate as the separation of his super-ego (his head) from his id (his body).
I never though I’d say this but I think I want to read Le Morte d’Arthur. Or Gilgamesh and his wildman, partyboy, beserker buddy Enkidu.