NOTE: The articles in these study guides are not meant to mirror or interpret any particular productions at the Utah Shakespeare Festival. They are meant, instead, to be an educational jumping-off point to understanding and enjoying the play (in any production at any theatre) a bit more thoroughly. Therefore the stories of the plays and the interpretative articles (and even characters at times) may differ from what is ultimately produced on stage.
Also, some of these articles (especially the synopses) reveal the ending and other “surprises” in some plays. If you don’t want to know this information before seeing the plays, you may want to reconsider studying this information.
By Joshua Stavros
If you haven’t said it before, you have probably heard it: Shakespeare is a great storyteller. He tells stories that feel relevant even hundreds of years after he “wrote” them. (I say wrote because so often he was adapting his plays from other works and sources.) He was taking stories he knew and spinning them into his own version. This process is at the very heart of good storytelling. As the author Margaret Atwood said, “You’re never going to kill storytelling because it’s built into the human plan. We come with it” (Lily Rothman, “Margaret Atwood on Serial Fiction and the Future of the Book,” Time, October 8, 2012; https://entertainment.time.com/2012/10/08/margaret-atwood-on-serial-fiction-and-the-future-of-the-book/).
Storytelling is a primal experience for humans. It is, as far as we can tell, as old as our species. “Anthropologists tell us that storytelling is central to human existence. That it’s common to every known culture. That it involves a symbiotic exchange between teller and listener—an exchange we learn to negotiate in infancy. Just as the brain detects patterns in the visual forms of nature—a face, a figure, a flower—and in sound, so too it detects patterns in information. Stories are recognizable patterns, and in those patterns we find meaning. We use stories to make sense of our world and to share that understanding with others. They are the signal within the noise.” (Frank Rose, “The Art of Immersion, Why Do We Tell Stories?”)Wired Magazine, https://www.wired.com/2011/03/why-do-we-tell-stories).
Some stories seem to exist in multiple cultures and through time. One can find similarities in the stories of Gilgamesh and Hercules, and even Frodo Baggins. Joseph Campbell, American professor of literature and mythology, called these stories “the monomyth” and charted their similarities and patterns. The result is what is often called “The Hero’s Journey.” This journey isn’t limited to the mythology of the past. Harry Potter, Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games, and even Luke Skywalker in Star Wars are examples of the Hero’s Journey in modern storytelling. George Lucas, the creator of Star Wars, has repeatedly said that he created Star Wars to be a modern mythology that served to engage a whole new generation to the key elements of the Hero’s Journey. In 2019, this journey is no longer limited to that of Luke Skywalker. With the completion of the latest trilogy in Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker, we can chart the Hero’s Journey in a new and compelling character: Rey. A woman hero in the monomyth, while not new, serves to show the true universality of the journey, and its value in understanding humanity.
There are countless variations and versions of the Hero’s Journey, but there are common elements in the various iterations. The story begins at “home” with the status quo. Then comes the call to adventure, after which the hero departs for the unknown. They are usually provided aid by another (usually older and wiser), and face trials and tribulations until they face their darkest moments, and even face literal and figurative death. Once through this “abyss” they are transformed and things begin to resolve. They slay the monster and are granted a “treasure.” They return from the unknown world changed, and that change is reflected in their interactions. They return to their life before, but more aware and evolved than when they left.
One excellent example of the Hero’s Journey in Shakespeare is in the fantastical, supernatural (dare I say, mythical) play Cymbeline. Critically, it is considered a problem play, due in part to its “lack of realism.” It is this scale and scope, however, that make it a story worth sharing because it is so fantastical. Evil queens, mistaken identity, long lost brothers, a vision of a god or two, being literally lost in the wilderness, and a “death and rebirth” provide all the elements of the hero’s journey.
Just like Star Wars, there is more than one person we can track along the path. The traditional hero of the play is Posthumus, the banished gentleman who marries the daughter of the king in secret, but is considered too poor to be his son-in law. He certainly goes on a journey of known to the unknown and back, and grows and changes as a result, but the best example in the play is in Imogen, the princess.
Imogen’s call to adventure comes not at the beginning of the play, but as she desires to find Posthumus and then escape Britain when she loses hope. Pisanio acts as one of her guides, encouraging her to disguise herself and head into the wilderness (the unknown). Her quest then is to escape the country and the unfair and false charges of adultery against her. She takes the name “Fidele” literally “loyal” or “faithful.”
She wanders in the woods, lost, starving, afraid, and finds support, comfort, and aid in Belarius and his sons. She faces her fears, but in taking what she believes is medicine, appears to be dead, and is left all alone, even thinking that her love Posthumus is dead. She is rescued by the Roman ruler Lucius, and is “transformed” from Briton to Roman, where she serves admirably and ably in the battle that follows, so much so that the request of the vanquished Lucius is that mercy be served on Fidele. The discord and upheaval of the kingdom is resolved as the lies and confusion brought on by Jacimo and the evil queen are discovered, and the “boon” granted to Imogen reveals all, including her constancy and faithfulness. She is reunited with her husband, father, and brothers, and all is resolved.
The value of the Hero’s Journey and one reason it has existed throughout human history is that it is reflective of our own individual experience of growth and change. As we come of age and whenever we feel a “call to adventure” we journey outside our known selves and grow. We are striving to find our place in the world, and the journey of the hero mirrors our own. We connect with characters we identify with. Myths and stories regenerate and evolve, and we need heroes that reflect who we are. Imogen (and the many heroes like her) in myth provide a mirror for the journey we make to find ourselves. Great stories connect us to this primal need. As the author Joan Didon said, “We tell ourselves stories in order to live” (The White Album [Simon & Schuster: New York City, 1979]).
