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Shakespeare in the classroom

The rumblings of the bard of Avon


When I joined the Intermediate course in the American College in 1951, the English syllabus included a comedy by Shakespeare — `The Merchant of Venice'. Though I had read a few of Lamb's Tales of Shakespeare, I had never read any original plays of Shakespeare. So I had a slight trepidation about studying one for an exam. Our seniors told us that the professor who taught Shakespeare was very good, and that we didn't have to worry about passing in that paper.

The great dictator

We eagerly looked forward to the first Shakespeare class. The professor was dressed in a dhoti worn in the panchkacham style, a jibba and angavastram. After taking attendance he said in Tamil: "Kulandhaigala, Yezhudhikkonga" (Children, Take this down). And then he dictated an essay on `The Character of Portia'. Next it was `The Character of Shylock'. And then came `The Character of Antonio'. Summaries of the various scenes followed. The whole year was spent in dictation. Our seniors said that if we memorized these essays we were sure to pass. And thus we never got to read the original text.

Those days it was considered prestigious to teach Shakespeare. So the senior professors claimed it as a matter of right even if they didn't have a flair for drama. When I joined the B.A.class, two eccentric professors handled Shakespeare for us. One seemed to think that reading the text in an exaggerated British accent was all that was required. The other spoke in a nasal twang that brought out giggles and titters in the classroom. Whereupon he would get very angry and yell something like "If you behave like ragamuffins you will be treated like ragamuffins. Sometimes we wondered if this was part of the text or his own speech. Anyway we didn't know the meaning of ragamuffins nor of many other words the professor used. He taught us `Henry IV - Part I'. He scowled at us and drawled out his lecture in such a way that there was no laughter even in the Falstaff scenes.

A red rag to the bull

This professor had an allergy to anything coloured red. So the students put a few hibiscus flowers on the table before he came. The moment he saw the flowers he ranted and raved and walked out of the classroom. So all that we needed to get a free period was a bunch of red flowers. Shakespeare was totally forgotten the moment the professor saw red. The other professor who taught us `Othello' just read the text while we read some storybook or the other. He never noticed this.

Between the two of them, these professors made us neglect Shakespeare completely. Those days there were no weekly or end of term tests. If any lecturer was rash enough to announce a test, we went on strike finding some reason or the other for doing so, like the vadai in the mess not being big enough or the tea strong enough. Thus we had to study only before the final examination.

And as the final exams approached I started reading `Othello', and to my surprise I found it totally absorbing. But I didn't have the time to read it for enjoyment. I hurriedly prepared for the other exams. And then in the summer after I had completed my B.A , I read `Othello' and `Henry IV', which was a rewarding experience.

Later, when I became a lecturer I remembered my student days, and hoped to make my Shakespeare classes more dramatic and interesting. But still I prefaced my first class of the year with these words: "As we are doing this play in class, you may hear a dull rumbling sound. That would be Shakespeare turning over in his grave"

By the way, did you hear that rumble?

J. VASANTHAN

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