'Oddball' Coriolanus reminds me of the joy of learning

A cracking movie

Another very impressive and eclectic Bath Literature Festival has just come to an end and it makes me ponder again on the sheer joy of reading – not only purely for pleasure but also for the educational benefits it brings.

Ever since I dusted off my shoes as I walked away from my college, I have said that I would like to do an Open University degree at some point. That is not for career reasons but it is due to my strong belief that we must never give up learning - or realising the benefits of lifelong education.

The link this has to the joy of reading is that last Monday evening I went to the Little Theatre, in Bath, to see a superb modern day film adaptation of Coriolanus.

For those that don’t know – and don’t worry the vast majority of people don’t – Coriolanus is one of Shakespeare’s lesser celebrated works about an arrogant soldier who despises being the politician his role requires and ends up turning on the people who attack his proud nature. It is not, by any means, one of Shakespeare’s easiest plays but the film works extremely well by changing its setting to the modern world, truncating its length and truly bringing the text to life.

Shakespeare 2012

The sole reason I was watching it is because I had done Coriolanus for my A-level. While other students at my school had been given much more famous texts such as Hamlet, Othello or King Lear to study, I felt somewhat cheated to have been left with this rather oddball work and after an initial read through I thought that I would never get to grips with it. But, crucially (and thankfully) I did.

And that is because I had to.

 

As I was forced to study the book, I read through it a number of times, got involved in plenty of class discussions about it and genuinely began to admire everything about it which is why I was very excited last week to see an adaptation of it on the big screen for the first time.

I took some persuading to like this

But the truth is that I would never have even bothered to read this work had I not had the loaded gun of the A-level exam pointing at me and that is why education is a joy – it stretches you beyond your comfort zone and makes you work at something that you may otherwise dismiss.

Indeed, I had a similar feeling about our very own Jane Austen whose book Persuasion I also initially treated with contempt but soon grew to love as my studies developed leaving me with a Miss Austen appreciation which has stayed until this day.

Your never too old to learn 

So, if you’re a student reading this faced with the equivalent of a Coriolanus that doesn’t initially appeal then please stick with it and revel in the fact that you’re being given a chance to challenge yourself.

As the cliche goes, education really does broaden the mind and it definitely broadened my appreciation of works that other people had realised were great while I was all too keen to sneer at them.

Oh and just in case you’re thinking viewing such high-brow films like Coriolnaus will means you will spoilt from enjoying everyday movies, then you’ll be pleased to know that a few days later I went to see The Muppets.

Yes, from Kermit to Coriolanus in just 48 hours. Now THAT’s an all-round education.

Heathcliff, Darcy and Fruit and Nut cases

Like I suspect many of you, I spent three very pleasant hours of my bank holiday weekend lapping up the latest television “classics-in-a- nutshell” version of Wuthering Heights. This was a first class production with an excellent script and some superb acting. I enjoyed it immensely.

Apart from one thing.

And that is, despite my best endeavours, I couldn’t stop thinking as I was watching the programme about a somewhat quirky big-haired lady singer from the 1980s.

As I’m sure many of you will recall, the enigmatic Kate Bush had a massive number one hit with the song Wuthering Heights and because that tune is so much a part of my cultural subconscious, I was just waiting for the line “Heathcliff! It’s me, your Cathy, I’ve come home, I’m so co-oo-oo-ld, let me in-a your window. ” Which never arrived.

Apart from completely over- romanticising Heathcliff (who was actually somewhat of a bad egg) this song is just one of many examples of what I call P.C.R.C. (Popular Culture Rewriting Classics).

One of the best known examples of this came in the BBC adaptation Pride & Prejudice starring Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle. One of the scenes – described by the Guardian as “one of the most unforgettable moments in TV history” – sees Mr Darcy walk out of a lake with his clothes stuck to his body in a way that finally convinces Lizzie Bennett that he may well be the man for her (well that, and the enormous house she’s just seen that he lives in!)
I can imagine a lot of people – mainly female – who hadn’t read the book then flicking through the pages to see how Jane Austen described the scene in her usual, understated, subtle way. Well, I’m sure they would have been disappointed to find it didn’t exist – it was all in the TV script only.

And of course it’s not just in TV and film. I once heard it described that the definition of an intellectual is someone who hears the classic Italian song Oh Sole Mio and isn’t tempted in the last line to shout “Just one Cornetto, give it to me”.
Equally, Tchaikovsky might be a bit confused sitting on his heavenly cloud if he meets someone from our generation who says, “Oh you’re the guy who wrote the tune for Everyone’s A Fruit And Nut Case”.
And, if you were to ask most people if they know Anton Dvorak’s music, they may say they’ve never heard any of it. Ask them to whistle the tune for the Hovis adverts and they’ll realise they have.

So, Emily Bronte, Jane Austen, Tchaikovsky and Dvorak may be puzzled for being remembered for things they didn’t realise they’d written, but it’s the same with quotes. The character Sherlock Homes never said “elementary, my dear Watson”, while football star Jimmy Greaves never uttered the phrase “it’s a funny old game”– until, ironically, he did so because people told him that he did!

As for Humphrey Bogart, he never said the phrase “play it again, Sam.” This one is particularly poignant to me because it seems to be the stock phrase people say to me on hearing my name. (It could be worse, however. I used to organise a rock festival in the Midlands and I was once treated to a chorus by a band onstage of “We’re all going on a Sammy Holliday” to Cliff’s most famous tune).

But returning to Wuthering Heights, I do think that even if popular culture does sometimes add just a bit of extra spice, if it helps make people interested in the classics it has to be a good thing. So Emily, say a big thank you to Kate . . .