Each of the plays looked at and challenged an established religious convention. The point of the plays was to examine how those challenges intersected with our faith and force us to look at how drama and religion are intertwined in our daily lives.
Yes.
Each of the plays looked at and challenged an established religious convention. The point of the plays was to examine how those challenges intersected with our faith and force us to look at how drama and religion are intertwined in our daily lives.
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Power dynamics are incredibly interesting in regular contexts, but they are even more fascinating in religious contexts. The Catholic Church can be patriarchal and that is made abundantly clear in Doubt, specifically with the power dynamic between the nuns and priests.
Most would assume that Sister Aloysius, who is the principal, would have the most power. However, due to gender roles within the church, it’s obvious that Father Flynn possesses more power just because he’s a priest. After finding out what he’s being accused of, Father Flynn seems to be relatively respectful on the surface. However, after more examination, it’s blatantly obvious that he’s manipulative and has zero respect for Sister Aloysius and Sister James. Throughout the entire play, Flynn believes that he is infallible and has the upper hand over the two sisters. He thinks that since he is a member of the old boys club (No offense Father), literally and figuratively, he can get away with whatever he wants and will be safe because no one would take a nun’s word over his. In the case of Sister James, she is still naïve and almost has a sense of hero worship of Flynn. When Flynn provides a mediocre explanation for Donald having alcohol on his breath, Sister James jumps at the opportunity to absolve (pun not intended) Flynn of all blame. She continues to search for any excuse that she can find to convince herself that Flynn didn’t do this, including saying that the accusations were a mistake and Sister Aloysius was too old-fashioned, so she is automatically distrustful of people. Flynn’s continued manipulation of Sister James illustrates the stereotypical power dynamic between priests and nuns, where priests have more power of the sisters and the sisters are submissive to whatever the priests say. In contrast, Sister Aloysius challenges every aspect of that stereotypical power dynamic. She challenges that power dynamic by not backing down from Flynn and challenging his perceived authority. At the end of Scene VIII, Sister Aloysius and Father Flynn have a very confrontational discussion, with Father Flynn absolutely losing his mind. Sister Aloysius keeps an even head and possesses all the power in the situation. She’s calm and, at least in my reading of the play, never raises her voice. The power dynamic is completely flipped, something that is unique for a priest to experience, especially during that time period. During that time, nuns were seen as teachers and nurses, or seemingly typical female jobs. They weren’t doctors, lawyers or advocates as they are now. This is why the power dynamic between Aloysius and Flynn is so revolutionary. Looking at today’s world, nuns are facing a lot of scrutiny for challenging the patriarchal structure of the church. Whether that is women becoming priests or nuns having an expanded role, I believe there are some men within the church that feel threatened by sisters. They believe that their power could be taken away from them or diminished significantly, just as Flynn did with Sister Aloysius. Check out this 60 Minutes piece on nuns today. It’s pretty fascinating to look at the problems that they face. For some of them, they face the same problems that Sister Aloysius faced. And they probably would have done the exact same thing that she did. Every so often there is a line in a book, play or article that makes you reexamine what you think about a certain topic. In The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, the conversation between El-Fayoumy and the famed psychologist, Sigmund Freud, forced me to look at the link between intelligence and faith and evaluate my opinion of the combination. Here's the excerpt of the conversation: EL-FAYOUMY: He wasn't wrong like you either, was he? Was he??!! Some people, such as academics like Freud, have a tendency to believe that you can have an infinite intelligence and no faith. Others, such as theologians, might believe that faith is a necessary part of developing intelligence. After looking at the two separately, I feel that both can exist on their own. There are plenty of people that I know that are intelligent, but have zero faith in anything remotely close to a higher power. There are plenty of people I know that have a lot of faith, but lack any sort of intelligence.
With that said, the understanding of each can be enhanced when they are utilized together. Supplementing intelligence with faith provides an entirely different perspective. It offers an explanation for events, people and things that cannot be explained by scientific facts, numbers or research. On the other hand, faith is better understood with intelligence. There are theological concepts that require much examination and interpretation, which are made possible by a higher level of intelligence. But back to El-Fayoumy's statement-You can't have one without the other. He might not be 100% wrong, but he's also not 100% right. That's just something we'll have to leave to Judge Littlefield to rule on. Monsters under the bed. Spiders. Rejection. Death. All fears that are commonly experienced. In Angels in America, fear is one of the most prevalent themes. Multiple characters are terrified of looking in the mirror and seeing the honest truth. The two fears that are the most prevalent in Angels in America are the fear of death and the fear of change.
One of the things that I think we have to keep in mind as we discuss this play is the evolution of AIDS and our knowledge about the disease. We have to realize that there was not as much known about it during the time that this was written and there was still a huge stigma attached to patients that were diagnosed with it. Since we were still learning about the disease, there was a serious fear that went with it. People living with AIDS didn’t know when they were going to die, but they knew it was inevitable. Life immediately became much shorter. That put the fear of God into anyone facing the disease. Look at Roy. He was on top of the world at the beginning of the play. He even said told Joe that he wasn’t afraid of death. “What can death bring that I haven’t faced,” he questioned. By the end of the play, he realizes that there’s a lot he hasn’t faced and dies almost alone. He lashed out at everyone, especially Belize, and reluctantly accepted the situation before his death just after Joe leaves. The last thing in Roy’s life that was going according to plan was his manipulation of Joe. Once that was gone, death was the only thing that was left for Roy. He acknowledges that to Belize by saying, “Nobody…With me now. But the dead.” Roy’s the kind of character that will never admit that he’s accepted it, but for a popular figure who has a lot of friends like that, admitting that is the ultimate form of resignation. That change for Roy was the last thing he experienced. For Joe, however, change was one of the first possibilities he experienced in the play. Roy offered him a job in D.C. He finally felt comfortable admitting that he was gay. Harper leaves him. All of this scared him into developing a bleeding ulcer. Joe said to Harper, “I don’t know. I thought maybe that with enough effort and will I could change myself…but I can’t.” He was frightened to admit that something like his sexual orientation, which he struggled with his whole life, could violate the tenants of his religion. The fear of death and the fear of change are also the fears that are supposed to be helped by religion. However, in Angels in America, religion makes it worse for some and better for others. For Joe, a person that seemed to be incredibly devout to his religion, it made it much worse because it kept him from being someone who could be what he was meant to be. For Prior, a man who probably couldn’t tell you the difference between the Torah and the Quran, the religious influence saved him from the Angel and in a way, his own imagination and the monsters under his bed. In looking at Waiting for Godot in comparison with our other plays, it is much heavier on dialogue than on stage directions. The sparse directions gives the actors opportunities to really play with their movement, but it also presents an interesting theory on what the play represents. My first instinct is that because Vladimir and Estragon are waiting for Godot all this time, they could be in purgatory.
The constant waiting and uncertainty that run throughout the entire play reminded me of purgatory. While I’ve never been there, every depiction I’ve been exposed to says that it is very bland and provides an unsettling sense of fluidity between this world and God’s kingdom. The lack of stage direction contributed to this uncertainty. Where should Vladimir stand when he is talking with Estragon? Should he be sitting or standing? All these questions flew through my mind. The tree provides an interesting dichotomy to the purgatory comparison. While purgatory is full of unknowns, the tree where they hung themselves could be the tree of knowledge. However, with that interpretation, more questions arise. Since they hung themselves, do they finally meet Godot? Who does Godot represent? Could he represent God? Keeping all these things in mind, the most blatant realization I came to after reading this play is Beckett wrote it as a satire in response to Catholicism. Look at how Estragon talks about the Bible and the Holy Land and the brevity of the dialogue. Vladimir and Estragon bounce back and forth faster than Josh Lyman and Jed Bartlett do in The West Wing. That sarcastic tone can be seen throughout the entire play. In Act I, Vladimir and Estragon are talking in their standard fast-paced dialogue when Vladimir brings up a mysterious “him”, causing Estragon to question what he is talking about. He talks about how the Savior didn’t save anyone. That cynicism is echoed throughout the Act. Beckett wrote this play to upset people. He knew that the buzz surrounding it would get people into the theatre, but he was hoping that they would find it so offensive that they would leave. Catholics found the play incredibly offensive and were very upset that it was put on in various theatres. Beckett was incredibly successful in alienating an entire religion. However, the one thing about Catholics: They’re really good at laughing at themselves. And they definitely got a good chuckle out of Waiting for Godot. Ryan pointed out that setting and conflict had the most religious undertones with Elizabethan dramatists. I didn't even think to look at that and it was a great point. He's 100% right. The settings and the conflict in each of the readings that we had are as religious as you can get during that time period without getting your head decapitated. Jonson's utilization of Atlas and mythology was very interesting considering the religious nature of the time period. I really enjoyed Ryan's post and it forced me to think differently.
After hearing more about James I, It became evident that he completely used Ben Jonson to make the English people believe that the divine right of kings was true. There are multiple blatant examples that Jonson emphasized the divine right of kings for James. The most blatant example of this comes at the very end of the play. There is a note at the end that says that James enjoyed the play and would see this play performed multiple times, but only after Jonson made some additions. Jonson obliged and created For the Honor of Wales, an additional masque. Even though we didn’t read this in class, I have a feeling that it painted the other members of the United Kingdom in a good light, including James’ home in Scotland. One of the more subtle examples occurs around line 150, where Mercury is talking about his grandson Atlas and his relationship with a star. He says: See where he shines, Justice and Wisdom placed About his throne, and those with Honor graced, Beauty and Love! It is not with his brother Bearing the world, but ruling such another The references to royalty include a throne and saying that those with honor graced indicates that someone is privileged to be in the same vicinity of a specific person, which is a tenant of royal behavior from that time period. As the masque continues, Mercury continues telling us about Atlas. He makes references to a mysterious map which points to royal education and the right. This definitely is a firm declaration of royal influence. Here’s more from Jonson: See how they come and show, Notice his use of Lines 170-172. Those scream Divine right of kings. That isn’t even subtle. That’s basically like standing on a street corner in Manchester with a sign that reads, “JAMES I HAS THE DIVINE RIGHT OF KINGS. HE AND GOD CHAT FREQUENTLY”.
I enjoyed Ben's post about power in Catholicism. His points about the common man permitting the "haves" to get away with whatever they wanted and how the class structure factors in are completely valid. This is one of those issues that is applicable across cultures and generations. People need to stand up for what they believe in, especially when they are in a lower class and the upper class is taking actions against them. His final point about us as Catholics is the perfect example of this. People don't realize the effect they have on others.
Father/son relationships definitely have their ups and downs. Some sons and their dads get along very well, while others are continuously at odds. It really depends on the pair, but in Luther, the Martin and his father, Hans, never seem to get along. They are continuously at odds, as we see in Act I when Martin is surprised that his dad came for his first mass and to put it mildly, the conversations between the two were very tense.
Most fathers would be proud of a son that became a priest, however, Hans thought that Martin didn’t live up to his potential and could have been a lawyer or something with more prestige. This seems to be a direct contradiction of what most parents wanted for their children during that time. In Act II, Scene II, Martin is talking with Staupitz about his bellyache, when he says that his father never said anything about faith. While that quote stuck out to me, the next quote solidified his father’s unhappiness with his decision to become a priest: “My father faced with an unfamiliar notion is like a cow staring at a new barn door. Like those who look at the cross and see nothing.” For Martin, this could be possibly the biggest insult he could have thrown at anyone, let alone his father. As a priest, his faith is clearly very important to him. He struggles with the fact that his father doesn’t see faith in the same light that he does. Later in Act II, Martin is being reprimanded for speaking out against indulgences and flat out says that his father does not approve of his vocation and is not really proud of him. These two things signal to me that because of his relationship with his father, Martin struggles with authority, more specifically paternal figures. In the Church, the pope is the greatest paternal figure you can have. Martin, who is speaking out against indulgences, is not making a lot of friends in the higher church and that includes the pope and the other priests that are in charge of overseeing the clergy. It doesn’t matter who the paternal figure is; As long as they fall into that category, Martin will clash with them. In a way, I think Martin resents being called the word “father” because of this tense relationship that he had with his own dad. It doesn’t matter if people are using it to refer to him as a man of God, but hates that word. Father/son relationships might have their ups and downs, but in this case: it’s just down. Chris' post about the Jesuits and theater was really insightful. The connection that he made between Vitus and the Jesuit influence was incredible. I never looked at it that way. Jesuits are enthusiastic about theater. That is evident even when they celebrate masses. Their enthusiasm is palpable. One thing I did think was interesting was his notion that the Jesuit zeal was close to dead. I never have felt like the Jesuit zeal was close to dying. It might have taken a break back in the day, yes, but I think it is stronger than ever presently.
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Tess QuinlanSenior at Marquette University, studying Broadcast and Electronic Communication in the Diederich College of Communication. Archives
December 2013
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