The Taming of the Shrew

By William Shakespeare. First published in Britain in 1623 by Edward Blount, William Jaggard, and Isaac Jaggard. Review copy from ‘The Arden Shakespeare: Third Series’, edited by Barbara Hodgdon.

Ah, Shrew. What a messed-up play. In so many ways, not just because of its misogynistic plot. There’s the question of the 1594 quarto ‘The Taming of a Shrew’, whether it was a corrupted version of this play, whether this play was based off of it, and how much both had in common with The Spanish Tragedy. There’s the Induction, with Christopher Sly, a scene usually left off of most amateur productions these days, especially with its lack of an ending. There’s the question of what in the world Shakespeare was doing with Hortensio, which gets into the problem of rough drafts and stage-manager copies.

And then, well, yes, there *is* the plot. For those two or three people unaware, the play begins — well, let’s move backwards. To start, a drunk lying in a gutter is found by a hunting party, who decide to have some fun. They dress him up in finery, get another guy in their party to dress up and pretend to be his wife, and convince him that he’s a Lord and only dreamt he was a drunken tinker. They then decide to put on a show for him. The show is The Taming of The Shrew.

Baptista has two daughters, both of marriageable age. The younger, Bianca, is sweet and kind. The elder, Katherina, is tempestuous and bad-tempered, and the shrew of the title. Enter Petruchio, who arrives in town and watches the various suitors to Bianca try various methods to get to her. Sadly, Bianca can’t be wed till Katherina is. Petruchio, who hears the dowry on Katherina is huge, decides to court her, and, well, hijinks ensue. They are married, much against Katherina’s will, and then return to his home in Verona, where he proceeds to emotionally abuse and torture her to break her will. They then return to Padua to see her sister’s wedding, at which point Katherina, now a loving wife, gives a speech about how women should obey their husbands.

Yeah, not controversial at all, right? Oh, where to begin… let’s talk about how I would stage Shrew, were I directing it.

First of all, I do appreciate those who play Shrew more seriously. The text does not show a very pretty message, and if you want to play it as a man breaking a woman into almost insanity, it’s just as valid as people who play it as pure jolly farce. Many have talked about the play being about class struggle rather than gender wars, but this also involves a serious, tragic feeling. I *do* think some productions have gone a bit too far in this direction, notably adding things to the play, such as showing Petruchio forcibly raping Katherina, and Katherina slitting her wrists at the finale. Were I to produce this play, it would simply *have* to be as a comedy. I think I’d find it too heartbreaking otherwise.

I also feel that I’d leave in the Christopher Sly induction, and do what many other productions have done, which is add the epilogue from ‘A Shrew’ that is absent from Shakespeare’s version. In this epilogue, the lords dress Sly (now asleep) back up in his tinker’s clothes and leave him where they found him. He wakes up and tells the hostess outside the bar that he had an amazing dream, and vows to go home and tame his unruly wife at once! Sly is clearly a schmuck, and adding the epilogue from the Shrew-Once-Removed play lets you note that Shrew is not meant to be a set of instructions, nor the ideal. It’s just a farce.

I also don’t want to alter or modernize the play. This is also very common these days, with Katherina spitting her final speech out venemously, then stalking off, or even giving the speech to Petruchio, turning it on its head (Moonlighting did this when they did their version of Shrew). But Katherina’s final speech is not only the longest in the play, but is also a brilliant set piece. It deserves to be acted as written, and I think doing so deprives the actress playing her from a great chance to shine.

Really, it comes down to casting your Petruchio and Katherina. They need chemistry. They’re both strong characters – that’s the whole point of the play – and play off each other beautifully. I’d ideally like to play it as having them genuinely be in love with each other by the end of the play. Certainly, compared to the other men in the play, Petruchio is likely one of the better men Katherina has seen. He doesn’t take any of her crap, and gives just as good as he gets. And, when he’s not acting the part of an obnoxious boor (and I think the text shows that much of it *is* acting, especially in the wedding itself), he’s quite clever. Meanwhile, it can’t just be about the dowry for Petruchio. You have to show he’s riveted by Katherina from the start. He likes strong women, not so that he can tame them to be meek and obedient, but because he likes strong women. I think a lot of the taming scenes in Verona are him simply seeing how much he can do, what boundaries he can press.

This leads to Bianca’s wedding, and Katherina’s speech. Having Katherina perform it as a lobotomised perfect wife would, in my opinion, be horrible. The speech needs a great strength behind it to highlight what she’s saying. Should she mean it? Probably not, no. But I think the speech should be heartfelt anyway, as she knows that humiliating Petruchio at this point would not serve either of them. She says what will win the bet, and does it perfectly. Likewise, Petruchio during this speech cannot simply stand there smugly. He’s clearly nervous, and seeing Kate come through for him inflames his love and desire. His first words after the end of the speech – “Why, there’s a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate!” should be followed by a kiss that is toe-curling. And yes, then they should walk out together, despite Shakespeare’s stage direction where only he leaves.

One can argue that this is not the way Shakespeare would have performed it. Lacking a time machine, however, we’re unlikely to ever know that. But I think, in this day and age, one needs to serve both Shakespeare’s play and what the audience wants of it. People don’t *go* to Shrew to see the horrible crushing of a proud woman. They go to see Katherina throw things, and see Petruchio make crude sexual puns about tongues in tails. I think, despite the misogyny, despite the awkwardness, they still want Shrew to have a love story. It’s a great play for reminding you of the disconnect between a play on the page and a play in the theatre. And the fact that it’s still highly discussed today (in a way that, say, King John isn’t), shows you that Shakespeare’s words can still move the soul.