The Klingon Falstaff
Aug. 30th, 2008 04:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tsukikageCurious about how the "original Klingon" portrayed Falstaff, I did a google search, and found this interesting message in the archives of the Shakespeare Electronic Conference newsgroup:
From: Ellen Edgerton <ebedgert@suadmin.bitnet>
Date: Friday, 08 Jul 1994 10:35 ET
Subject: *The Tragedy of Iago*
A few days ago I posted about the "Klingon Shakespeare Restoration Project" I discovered on Gopher. I've since been in contact with someone who is interested in translating more of the plays from a Klingon POV. It seems that *Othello* in particular might have a rather skewed reading by the typical Klingon critic or audience: it would only make dramatic sense to Klingons if it were called *The Tragedy of Iago*, about a noble warrior named Iago who must struggle to kill his captain, Othello, who has clearly shown himself too dishonorable for command.
Klingons (for those unfamiliar with Star Trek) are a warrior race who value honor, duty, single-mindedness, battle prowess, ambition, boasting, and rather disgusting food. The best thing that can happen to a Klingon is to die in battle against an enemy; the worst thing that can happen is to be taken alive by the enemy and not executed. In discussing the "Klingon Shakespeare Restoration Project" we tried to fathom which of Shakespeare's plays would be most popular or interesting to this fictional Klingon audience -- sort of a hypothetical "Shakespeare in the Bush" exercise. *Othello* struck me as the one play which would mean something totally opposite to a Klingon audience than to a human (Western, Eurocentric) audience. Iago, to Klingon audiences and critics, would even have a tragic flaw -- his willingness to destroy Othello through clever schemes rather than outright force (Klingons value intelligence, but not when force is a viable alternative). He suffers what is to Klingons a terrible end -- he is captured at the end by his enemies and presumably not executed (at least not on stage). To Klingons, Iago might be as compelling and controversial a figure as Hamlet.
One could translate *Othello* (rather, *The Tragedy of Iago*) in a bowdlerized Klingon version (a few scenes cut, others a bit transposed etc.) to "restore" the play to a version that would be popular and interesting to a Klingon audience. Other possibilities include the uproarious comedy *King Lear*, the stirring conquest story *Henry V* (not much bowdlerization in store for THAT one), and the Henriad featuring that vilest of all Shakespearean villains, Jack Falstaff...
Not sure how close this comes to Disney and Shakespeare,
Ellen Edgerton
Syracuse University
The King Lear line really makes me want to hurry up and get to that play.
(And for those unfamiliar with the character, here's the quote that made me particularly curious:
Well, ’tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? How then? Can honour set-to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word “honour”? What is that “honour”? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died o’ Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. ’Tis insensible then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I’ll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism.
(V.i.129–139))
From: Ellen Edgerton <ebedgert@suadmin.bitnet>
Date: Friday, 08 Jul 1994 10:35 ET
Subject: *The Tragedy of Iago*
A few days ago I posted about the "Klingon Shakespeare Restoration Project" I discovered on Gopher. I've since been in contact with someone who is interested in translating more of the plays from a Klingon POV. It seems that *Othello* in particular might have a rather skewed reading by the typical Klingon critic or audience: it would only make dramatic sense to Klingons if it were called *The Tragedy of Iago*, about a noble warrior named Iago who must struggle to kill his captain, Othello, who has clearly shown himself too dishonorable for command.
Klingons (for those unfamiliar with Star Trek) are a warrior race who value honor, duty, single-mindedness, battle prowess, ambition, boasting, and rather disgusting food. The best thing that can happen to a Klingon is to die in battle against an enemy; the worst thing that can happen is to be taken alive by the enemy and not executed. In discussing the "Klingon Shakespeare Restoration Project" we tried to fathom which of Shakespeare's plays would be most popular or interesting to this fictional Klingon audience -- sort of a hypothetical "Shakespeare in the Bush" exercise. *Othello* struck me as the one play which would mean something totally opposite to a Klingon audience than to a human (Western, Eurocentric) audience. Iago, to Klingon audiences and critics, would even have a tragic flaw -- his willingness to destroy Othello through clever schemes rather than outright force (Klingons value intelligence, but not when force is a viable alternative). He suffers what is to Klingons a terrible end -- he is captured at the end by his enemies and presumably not executed (at least not on stage). To Klingons, Iago might be as compelling and controversial a figure as Hamlet.
One could translate *Othello* (rather, *The Tragedy of Iago*) in a bowdlerized Klingon version (a few scenes cut, others a bit transposed etc.) to "restore" the play to a version that would be popular and interesting to a Klingon audience. Other possibilities include the uproarious comedy *King Lear*, the stirring conquest story *Henry V* (not much bowdlerization in store for THAT one), and the Henriad featuring that vilest of all Shakespearean villains, Jack Falstaff...
Not sure how close this comes to Disney and Shakespeare,
Ellen Edgerton
Syracuse University
The King Lear line really makes me want to hurry up and get to that play.
(And for those unfamiliar with the character, here's the quote that made me particularly curious:
Well, ’tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? How then? Can honour set-to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word “honour”? What is that “honour”? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died o’ Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. ’Tis insensible then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I’ll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism.
(V.i.129–139))
