Musings on 'Alcumena in the "Amphitruo" of Plautus: A Pregnant Lady Joke' by Jane Phillips

             In her article, "Alcumena in the "Amphitruo" of Plautus: A Pregnant Lady Joke" Phillips seems to disagree with her scholastic predecessors.  Many scholars have noted that Alcumena is one of the most virtuous female characters in Roman comedy. She behaves as the ideal wife in every way and her prose is more often littered with forgiveness and praise for her husband than indignation he deserves. Many have praised Plautus for his clearly positive (from the Roman standpoint) perspective on women in this play. However, Phillips made the claim that a lot of the humor surrounding Alcumena relies on the visual of an extremely pregnant woman. Phillips believes that Plautus knew that the image of a ridiculously pregnant Alcumena would contrast with her noble speech to humorous results. Also, Philips notes that some of Alcumena's lines in latin are double entendres with sexual references. These references combined with her ludicrous appearance would certainly have served Plautus's comedic motives.
          I found this article very interesting and it definitely affected how I see Alcumena within the bigger scope of the play. It definitely reminded me of the humor to be found in costuming- I will make sure I look very pregnant. But it also reaffirmed to me that Alcumena is a "straightman" in this comedy. In order for her to contribute to the comedy of this play, she must be entirely invested in her problems, which are of a rather serious nature. I think that Alcumena's character should be a contrast to some of the more "hammy" characters in this play like Sosia. Also, I think by conveying a strong sense of indignation and conviction, it will redeem some of the immorality present in this play.

Tragicomedy? Or Comitragedy?

This is a brief commentary on Timothy Moore's article on Tragicomedy as seen in Amphitruo:

http://www.didaskalia.net/issues/supplement1/moore.html

Due to a number of famous playwrights referencing the term "tragicomedy," many people have come to understand that it implies an equal-parts mixture of the two genres, like a Dramedy, or basically any movie with Sandra Bullock in it. This isn't an incorrect perception of the modern term, but the context in which this term was originally coined presents a notably different perspective on what "tragicomedy" is actually supposed to mean.

As stated in the article, as far as we know, Plautus, a Roman Playwright famous for his comedies, was the first one to use the word, and most likely invented it. Romans had a very specific definition of what a "comedy" was, and what a "tragedy" was, and it extended beyond simple seriousness vs. hilarity to the actual form and specific tropes associated with each kind of play. For example, if there were gods participating in the action, it was almost certainly a tragedy. Conversely, if you saw a slave engaging in rascally behavior, it was obviously a comedy. It's important to understand that according to classical theater tradition, these two sets of stereotypes hardly ever crossed. Which is why what happens in Amphitruo was somewhat radical/significant, particularly in the finer details of its execution.

ANYWAY, long story short,  rather than being that equal-parts mixture we might think of, Amphitruo is more about the supremacy of comedy over tragedy, and how comedy is so good that it can take perfectly tragic lines and elements, and with a sprinkling of unexpected context, role reversals, etc, make them into unmistakeable comedy. If you're interested in seeing more of the specific instances where this happens, you should check out the link at the top of this post! If you're into Classical Theater, then you'll appreciate it for sure.

-R

Reflection of the Script Reworking Process

I have really enjoyed the reworking that we have done so far. I find it most helpful when we run lines in class during this process because I think our ears naturally pick up what is gratuitous or unnecessary to the essential motion of the play. It has also been beneficial when we have discussed themes and message as a cast that we wish to portray with this production. I like Professor Jeppesen's plot additions because I believe it changes the sentiment of the play from misogyny to one that features moral consequences. I think that this redeems the play from some of its less savory aspects and makes it more palatable to a modern western audience. I have also enjoyed some of the moments in which we have changed the wording of lines to help with the rhythm and flow of the language. I understand that we can't go over every line together as a class, and that some of the reworking process will be individual, but the experience of rewriting as a class has both helped our group dynamic while producing something is a product of our collective creativity.

shop-working the cript-se

We've been working a lot lately on workshopping the script for Amphitruo, and it has certainly been an interesting experience. One that so far I've enjoyed quite a bit! First off we chose the script we liked best as a basis, and after that we began going through and finding all the parts we didn't quite like and changing them to work better.

Have you ever heard a song that was almost your favorite, but there were just a few parts that you didn't quite like as much? Well this is kind of like not just putting up with it. This is like making it exactly what you want it to be. Obviously, this is somewhat limited by skill level of those editing, but hey, we're college students, so I think where this is going, relatively speaking, is quite good. And I personally find that my creative power reaches a new level entirely when I'm able to work with others and build off of each others ideas. Of course, this is not always without democratic complication, but all in all, I think we're all pretty pleased with our work thus far.

This is beginning to materialize! Doubts are slowly beginning to disappear! Images are coming into focus! May we be inspired as we move ahead through the coming weeks.

'Who's on first?'

When I first read the scene between my character Amphytruo and Sosia in the translation provided to us by Professor Jeppesen, I found my mind immediately turning to Abbott and Costello’s ‘Who’s on first?’ comedy bit. The lines back and forth, the talking at cross purposes, the silliness. It all brought me back to the first time that I heard that bit somewhere in my childhood. When reading it from the translation that we chose, I realized that some of those jokes did not show through. As I have been working at ‘punching up’ the scene a bit, I realized how hard it can be to get just the right natural responses when talking at cross purposes. We all do it at some point in our lives and it needs to come naturally. The more natural the more hilarious. Obviously the audience is meant to be the only entity that understands what is going on, which can be tricky. The other obstacle of course is trying to still be true to the original with what is said and not reinventing the wheel. Although it has taken me a while, I feel that the end product has hit the mark and will make this scene all the better.

The Couplet vs. The Punch

For my part, I thought I'd take a moment and write about some of the differences between two translations of Plautus' Amphitruo from Latin to English. One by Lionel Casson (the punch) and the other by Edward Sugden (the couplet.)

Like the other bloggers, I'll be focusing on the scene where Sosia arrives and Mercury beats him and sends him packing. I'll try to be succinct.

First, for context's sake, I should mention that Casson's translation was published in 1963, while Sugden's was published in 1893.
The most immediate difference between the two is the general structure. As implied by the title of this post, Casson's translation is a lot punchier, and feels more stage-ready (at least in a modern context.) It has a good pace (or at least a good a pace as it could have in such a Plautine scene) and most of the jokes fit more smoothly, though not all. Also, Casson's translation has stage directions on almost every line of the play. This may be viewed as taking liberties (and it is,) but the stage directions are all very fitting when considering the dialogue.
In contrast, Sugdon's translation follows the more formal structure of shaping everything into rhyming couplets. This doesn't make it of a lower quality outright, and in its own right it is a clever translation, but after so many rhyming couplets it's easy to become tired of it and to wish he would stop trying so hard to make the entire play that way. Perhaps ironically, some of Sugdon's decisions regarding how to translate the jokes actually worked a bit better than the Casson translation, and the couplets do give a nice quirky feel to the exchange, though this quickly deteriorates into what sounds like a hyper-extended Dr. Seuss reference. As with the original fragmentary script we have, there are no stage directions in this translation, and it seems to be more of a literary translation than one intended for performance.

In conclusion, one translation isn't necessarily "better" than the other, it's just that they were made with slightly different intents in mind. For our purposes, which are to perform the play in a modern and relatable context, Casson's translation is definitely the better fit.

-R

Casson Vs. De Melo

I found the contrast between Casson and De Melo the most interesting because of the different purposes for which they were written. In class today we discussed how De Melo is the newest translation and that he emphasized a scholarly, literal translation from the original Latin text. As a Latin student, I found his translation very helpful as he tried to keep the English in similar clauses as the Latin had been. However because of this scholarly effort, the translation is stiff and clearly not suited for the stage.  Casson’s work, however, features a rhythm and ease that makes his translation a prime candidate for our production. He has adjusted the lines to make them sound more fluid to the English ear. Casson’s punchlines hit well, and he displays a sound understanding of the timing of quick back and forth banter. Casson also included parenthesized stage directions that gave the readers a bit of emotional context. I believe that this was a smart play on Casson’s part (no pun intended) because the brief directions do a lot to aid the silent reader’s mental imaging of the scene. Sir Thomas Casson (pictured below) was a well-known British actor and director in the early 20th century and his familiarity with the theatre is clear from this translation.  Though they had their differences, these two versions did have their similarities. Both Casson and De Melo utilized modern English to make the translation relatable.

I have had some rudimentary Latin translation experience myself and this has given me some insight into the amount of decisions and influence a translator can have on the end product. Even though I previously called De Melo’s translation stiff, it has still been translated into smooth English and it is by all means accessible. I am partial to Casson’s translation because it features a dialogue that both embraces the reality of the circumstances and characters and the poetry of the theatre.