Series Review 📚 - The War of the Roses Trilogy by William Shakespeare
[REVIEW] Henry VI Part 1 by William Shakespeare
3/5 stars (★★★)
“’Tis much when scepters are in children’s hands, / But more when envy breeds unkind division: / There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.”
It's been over four years since I first read Richard II, the two Henry IV plays, Henry V, and Richard III. I read all of them for my Shakespeare Comedy and History class, and my professor told me that the Henry VI trilogy was the weakest in what she called the Henriad saga. I'm very fascinated with the War of the Roses and the Tudor-Stuart line, though, so I promised myself I would read Henry VI sooner than later. Well, since it is now later (I have been without Shakespeare for too long, unfortunately), I have had to refresh myself on some English history, so it took me a while to actually start this play.
For one thing, Shakespeare's History plays always have the most complicated dramatis personae, so I made my own copy with additional notes and many arrows that said "Uncle, Brother to old King (Annoying)" and "Married to (Not for long though LOL)" and "Bitch Traitor." Such is the English royal family tree (thanks Edward III). I think I have a relatively decent handle on who is who -- at least enough or me to have understood the gist of the play -- but I think I'll do a bit more research before I get started on Henry VI Part 2. I highly recommend anyone who wants to dive into this play (or any one of Shakespeare's History plays, especially Richard III, which is my favorite and also, in my opinion, the one with the messiest cast), that they educate themselves beforehand on historical context and have a basic understanding of how these characters relate to one another (and not just by blood either. You need to know the beef). I won't lie that it's complicated, but it's also been really fun drawing ties between these people. I downloaded a lot of Wikipedia articles on York vs. Lancastrian/Tudor history, and, even though I wanted to rip my hair out -- why are there so many Edwards? So many Margarets? -- I, reluctantly, concede that English history is pretty interesting, and worth knowing. I wasn't going to waste my time memorizing everything though -- too much inbreeding white nonsense for me. I wanted to get into the actual play, not facts, and Shakespeare shared my sentiment in that. Because he, as I learned from that Comedy and History class, did not really give two shits about historical accuracy. He did everything for the drama of it all, which I can respect.
Henry VI Part 1 is considered a very weak play compared to the juggernauts like Hamlet and even The Tempest, and while I do agree, it was still entertaining to read for me. No, there aren't any grand soliloques or major psychological deep-dives into human nature -- honestly, it reads more like a blockbuster action movie with all the "excursions" -- but I was surprised to find myself able to read it fairly quickly despite my slow start. The scenes are very short, and there's no pun-heavy prose that requires me to sift through a huge block of footnotes at the bottom of the page to understand.
I know it's easier to say this now that I did the work, but once you really get a semi-decent grasp of how everybody's related to one another -- and why everyone hates the people they hate (so much haterism in this play) -- then the plot itself was almost seamless to follow. Basically: The English and the French are fighting; England got French territories a long time ago from Henry V, who was, by all accounts, a badass, but since he died unexpectedly at the start of the play, the Dauphin Charles and his new MVP Joan of Arc are trying to take advantage of the English's power vacuum to reclaim the French land they lost. And while this shitshow campaign to invade France is happening, the boy-king Henry VI, who succeeded his father in name only, is being mind-controlled by his petty as hell uncles and cousins. The English court scenes are a complete mess of civil squabbling, as the men in power become divided into Lancastrians (red roses) and Yorkists (white roses), which will, of course, crescendo into the War of the Roses. I know I'm in the minority, but personally I enjoyed watching all the dumbass the drama unfold. There were a lot of bitchy comebacks that had me raising my eyebrows (my favorite one was when Joan, before she's put to death, demands they "prithee give me leave to curse awhile." So fucking funny).
The play was mostly entertainment for me, and it would've just been fun and games if that scene with Talbot and his son didn't smack me in the face. It touched me to see father and son coming to terms with their own deaths -- both of them begging the other to save themselves out of love -- yet choosing to still fight together until the very end. It was a poignant, albeit briefly shown, dynamic, and when they do both die, Shakespeare leaves us with this haunting image of the warlord father -- feared by all France -- clutching at his baby boy. I don't see a lot of mention of this scene's emotional weight, but I just want to voice my kudos to it for being the play's most affecting one, at least in my opinion. While reading, I kept thinking Talbot would've been a much more interesting "main character" than Henry VI is. The king doesn't even appear until Act III, his dialogue is sparse, and Shakespeare portrays him as an easy-to-manipulate idiot with zero political or social skills. Many scholars and other readers have pointed this out. My Pelican Shakespeare edition edited by William Montgomery and written with an introduction by Janis Lull made me realize that Henry VI Part 1 isn't really meant to have a "heroic" or "protagonist" figure. It's true, Talbot's more compelling as a character, but he only shines in battle and thus comes off as one-dimensional in any other scenario. He represents honor and chivalry, yes, but within the world of the play, you get the sense that those ideals are insufficient and are reaching their sundown days, hence why he and his son die so tragically. Lull's introduction goes into this more eloquently, so I highly recommend reading it (after you read the play, of course. I never read the introductions first, I read them once I'm done so I know what the fuck is actually happening and can discern between the Bedfords, Somersets, Suffolks, and Burgundys. Kinda).
Finally, because what's a review on Shakespeare without mention of the women, I believe the one who really stole the show was Joan of Arc. Even though it's clear Shakespeare does not like her (English nationalism and Elizabethan era misogyny, what can ya do), I think even a 16th century audience wouldn't have been able to take their eyes off of her. She had a lot of wit, spunk, and bite, which was very sexist and wholly inaccurate to who Joan of Arc was as a person (she was literally just a teenage girl and Shakespeare made her out to be this conniving witch), but her crass portrayal revealed more about England than her actual person. She's such a mystery! A larger than life figurehead in history appearing in one of Shakespeare's plays, and the mischaracterization is so in-your-face. I'd love to see her in live action; I can imagine a lot of ways modern (feminist) actors could play with her character. I don't think I could sit through a whole performance of Henry VI Part 1 though (or any of Shakespeare's history plays, really). I know these plays are better taken in as performances (that is what they were made for), but the English major in me much prefers reading the text. I'm looking forward to reading Part 2 very soon.
[REVIEW] Henry VI Part 2 by William Shakespeare
2/5 stars (★★)
“Show me one scar charactered in thy skin. / Men’s flesh preserved so whole do seldom win.”
This one read like historical crack fanfic. I just know the Elizabethans were ugly hollering clutching their stomachs watching this play because it's so unserious. Like are you kidding me. Yes, this one's got its more somber parts -- we got severed heads on poles, sabotage, murder, and bloody battles, which is par for the course in English history -- but this one had some of the most ridiculous scenes in Shakespeare that I've ever encountered.
- Dame Eleanor Cobham (Gloucester's wife) going hey what if you were king? >.> And Gloucester going "Ugh! Don't even joke about that, woman!" and she says "Hahaha ur right ur right im jk . . . Unless? >.>" AND THEN SHE GETS A BUNCH OF HOOHAS WITH FUNNY NAMES TO TRY AND SUMMON DEMONS ??!?!?! AND ONCE THEY START THEIR LITTLE DIY BACCHANALIA THEY'RE IMMEDIATELY CAUGHT TOO LIKE WE DON'T EVEN GET TO TALK WITH THE SPIRIT THEY CONJURE UP BEFORE "Zounds, we are betrayed!" Oh my God???? AND WHEN EVERYONE'S LIKE "Girl why'd you do this omg" ELEANOR'S LIKE "Lol idk I really hashtag #regret it though smh i totally deserve being banished btw" THAT'S SO FUCKING FUNNY???? She really tried to be Lady Macbeth but without serving cunt. Leave it to Shakespeare to sprinkle in some casual occultism and monstrous femininity that didn't even matter that much to the plot in the grand scheme of things. Still very funny regardless.
- Margaret openly cheating on Henry with Suffolk and Henry being too dumb to realize it despite the fact that Suffolk literally married Margaret “for him” at the start of the play, which has its own set of implications and jabs at Henry’s (nonexistent) masculine prowess (All hail the almighty sovereign ruler of England who is also the country’s most naive cuck).
- When Margaret and Suffolk are eventually forced apart, they have a sort-of touching breakup scene that's meant to be emotional, but their speeches are so melodramatic -- “For where thou art, there is the world itself, / With every several pleasure in the world; / And where thou art not, desolation” -- that it pulls a total of zero heartstrings and more so tickles me as a joke. And, forgive me for this because I do not know where it came from, but I got the sense Suffolk during that departure scene just kept sobbing and burying his face in Margaret's tits the entire time. So it kinda took away any sort of doomed lovers tragedy I was supposed to get out of those two. Plus like not even two scenes later Suffolk's dead because PIRATES, which is always an A+ plot point to include and then never bring up again (*wipes tear* Just like in Hamlet).
- The very existence of a character named Simpcox and his pretending to be blind and lame just for fucksies, only to be exposed almost immediately, and, once he’s found out, his solution is to just ??? hightail it and run away (I imagined him running Naruto-style), leaving his accomplice wife behind to explain to the king and his court like, "Yeahhhhh sorry bout that we're poor as fuck LOL." And they’re never heard from again!
- The utter madlad nonsense of Act IV and the Cade rebellion, where an anti-intellectualist Irish guy who hates women, sobriety, and anyone who can read literally invades and pillages London -- all the while claiming he's the true king because of an obscure royal blood tie he made up. Cade promises "reformation," but his literal first order of business is to ensure everybody gets drunk on stronger alcohol. Also to abolish education (There's a HILARIOUS moment where he viciously hates on grammar schools, books, printing, and "abominable" nouns and verbs. I know Shakespeare was kicking his feet giggling when he wrote those absurd ass lines). Anyway, Cade goes on a murderous rampage killing opps he also made up out of the British aristocracy and upper class, only to end up being abandoned by his "supporters" (these hoes ain’t loyal -- only to the royal who promises pardon, money, and not to lop their heads off for treason). Cade is then left to starve for a few days until he eventually ends up in somebody named Iden’s yard looking for food, where he promptly gets killed -- but only after he grandiosely announces himself as this Big Deal but is then met with the Shakespearean equivalent of "Who's this clown?" by the guy who later decapitates him and scurries off with the head to show the king like some toddler with a shiny new toy they dug up from the sandbox. Comedic genius, really.
- During the pillaging and whatnot, Cade also beheads two nobles and makes their severed heads kiss each other, which is fucked up since he parades them across town in an endless macabre makeout session, but still funny nevertheless. RIP Cade you would've loved reading toxic yaoi.
- Future King Richard III also shows up near the end with his wet-wipe brother and is nothing less of a smartass diva when everybody insults him for his disability. He will always be my problematic fave. I love how he's so committed to being a hater.
There's so many more WTF moments that made me snort, but I'll stop there and Be Serious Now. Ahem. So. The first section of King Henry IV Part 2 (from the beginning until about the end of Act III) illustrates the downfall of unc Gloucester. Everyone from his supposed allies at court to his epic fail of a witchy wife betray him and he ends up being strangled in bed right after his incompetent nephew the king is forced to fire him for being Lord Protector. (His death scene is hilariously set up, by the way. The stage directions say, "The curtains are drawn apart, revealing Duke Humphrey of Gloucester in his bed with two men lying on his breast, smothering him in his bed." You know, I knew it would never happen but for a glorious second there I thought Shakespeare was gonna be hella cool about it and throw in a lil homosexual threesome action, but nah. I was like "OMG ON HIS BREAST, YOU SAY?!?!?" and Shakespeare went "No bitch, they're killing him!" And I said o ok :/).
Gloucester dying only highlights how painfully stupid and dense Henry is, which Part 1 already covered, so it’s plain embarrassing at this point how much of a fuckup this guy is. Just like in Part 1, Shakespeare really emphasizes how Henry VI is too young, too inexperienced, and too “nice” to reign, which only amplifies everyone else's (quite frankly understandable) ambition to overthrow him. (If I was in his court watching all of this unfold with Henry doing fuckall I’d try to take the crown too, I’m sorry). Winchester, Suffolk, York, and Margaret are all so obviously so much smarter and more politically savvy than him -- they plot and scheme in every way possible behind Henry's back to remove Gloucester whilst also stirring revolt and uproar amongst the court and Henry's subjects. And Henry does jackshit about it. I want to believe he has at least some suspicion or awareness that all this is happening under his nose, but he’s also just so dense that it evidently warrants a Part 3. Oy vae.
Thus, Part 2’s first four acts are a grueling tapestry of political + civil disputes, petty squabbles that read like telonovela dialogue sometimes, and, of course, Henry being useless. I say this section is grueling because a lot of the scenes are episodic and achieve very little other than emphasizing that shit is about to hit the fan. Everybody is looking out for themselves and, even if we as the audience understand all of this is going to eventually culminate in the War of the Roses, a lot of the drama that happens feels formless and going absolutely nowhere, which mounts frustrations and impatience. In Acts I to II especially, Shakespeare over-relies on lengthy, inelegant monologues that kiiiinda reveal character and motivation, but with lukewarm deliveries that fail to draw in the audience like the speeches in Henry V or even the two Richard plays. There are a handful of good scenes and lines -- “But mine is made the prologue to their play, / For thousands more that yet suspect no peril / Will not conclude their plotted tragedy” -- but nothing earth-shattering or relevant beyond the surface-level.
All of this is a pretty flaccid leadup to Act IV, which is, to understate, a fever dream of anarchy. Shakespeare set aside his iambic pentameter and wrote the whole thing in prose, which adds to the surrealism of the rebellion because, up until now (especially in Part 1), the dominant mode of speech was in iambic pentameter. Suddenly we got everyday peasants speaking in relatively straightforward (and crass) English, which ironically infuses this section with a sense of familiar modernity. Cade is a bona fide madman compared to Joan of Arc in Part 1. I’m seeing people (falsely) claim his “ideals” anticipate Marxist socialism and modern-day communism, which I say is bullshit since this guy literally just wants to fuck, party, and drink the piss. Which, I suppose, does accurately describe many politicians nowadays -- though socialist, they most certainly are not.
Moving on, Act V is when the actual wars between York and Lancaster begin in earnest. There is a noticeable shift in this act. It felt like Shakespeare was just doing whatever he wanted in the beginning, but once he reached the fifth act he sat up and locked in. This change is exciting because it gives a gold cliffhanger (a CLIFFORD-HANGER, ehhh? Ehhhh?? I’m funny) for Part 3, which I will put on hold until at least mid-October for now because I really don’t want to be reading The Henriad during spooky season. That concept is oddly depressing to me.
[REVIEW] Henry VI Part 3 by William Shakespeare
3/5 stars (★★★)
"The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on, / And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood."
I started Henry VI Part 3 early December and it took me a month to finish it. (Actually, it took me 3 weeks to get through Act I; I read Acts II-V in like 2 days. That's just how it be). I didn't expect to like this one as much as I did, but I think it's the best one of the "Henrys," but obviously the best one in the tetralogy itself is Richard III (my favorite History play by Shakespeare).
A big reason why it took me so long to slog through this one were the names. It had the biggest cast and even my Pelican Shakespeare edition gave up and went LOL here's a family tree have fun. Usually I take notes and try to chart where each of the characters connect even on a surface-level, but I got so lazy that I just went, "Fuck it I'll remember them all and if I don't we die like Richard Duke of York." Ironically though, by Act II I could tell who was on whose side even though I found it difficult to do so for Parts 1 and 2. I was even able to keep up with the betrayals! And they basically switched sides in every scene! No idea how I did this though, so alas I cannot offer any advice other than to cling onto that dramatis personae list for your dear life while reading these plays. You get a very sick sense of superiority once you lock in and are finally able to mark a chronological line of cause and effect regarding the Wars of the Roses using the varying names, events, and battles. (It's just memorizing them that's agony. And TBH the bragging rights I am advertising has got to be one of the lamest out there).
My edition was edited by William Montgomery with an introduction by Janis Lull, which was very excellent in its succinct analysis. Lull perfectly summed up HVIP3's themes of religion, duty, the parent-child motif, fate vs. predetermination, history vs. legend/mythmaking, the fragility of royal lineage, and loyalty to one's sovereign; her introduction genuinely was a delight to read immediately after I finished the play. A lot of the Pelican Shakespeare introductions are quite thick and, though always informative, I struggle a little getting through them -- especially right after I just finished the actual plays themselves -- but Lull's was very smooth and quick, which I duly appreciate.
I'm probably biased in saying HVIP3 is the better one out of the three Henry VIs since a good chunk of it has Richard Duke of Gloucester, who does eventually become Richard III. By the middle of the play, Richard's duplicitous dark side, which we'd gotten glimpses of in Part 2, are now fully emerged, giving us a clear promise of the shitstorm that's about to happen in Richard III. I'm just so intrigued with whatever is wrong with him. That crusty scheming bastard charms me and I want to study him under a microscope. He had a lot of great lines in this play, but his general aura of HATERISM and being a bitter little bitch was just iconic. (I cannot help but stan, I'm sorry). I also love how so often when Richard III is depicted in any adaptation he's this hunchbacked guy rubbing his hands evilly together and scurrying around like a 16th century cloaked goon. His entrance, presence, and exit in this tetralogy was the best highlight by far -- he's just so rancorously unpleasant. A stubborn conniving cunt. The Plantaget diva. Absolute madlad powerhouse. I'm obsessed.
Of course, this entire tetralogy was a mess from start to finish. Overall, it was just a really, really fucked-up family spat. (It's crazy how literally all of them are related to each other. I cannot imagine beefing with my cousins this much). Through these plays, Shakespeare's trying to create an English version of the Trojan War with the War of the Roses. On top of the fact that he references Troy several times, there's a clear comparison being drawn between the Homeric conflict erupting because of Helen and the War of the Roses sprouting from Edward IV's hasty marriage to widow Lady Grey (Elizabeth of Woodeville). (I loved the constant slut-shaming of Edward IV throughout the play BTW. Everyone was soooooooo mad that he was just thinking with his English pussy the entire time and I can't blame them. I'm sure Elizabeth was beautiful but holy hell how do you fumble France that bad). I saw a reviewer say that HVIP3 doesn't really have a plot, it's "more a series of stabbings," which in a way can also be a way to describe The Iliad, so Shakespeare was onto something.
The Wars of the Roses technically concludes with the end of King Henry VI's reign and the rise of the York faction to the throne, but Shakespeare's hot-potato portrayal of the Yorkists versus Lancastrians in this play really highlight the absurdity of this divine, austere thing we call royal lineage. The Henriad tetralogy was one of his earliest works and you really see Shakespeare's skills as a writer and poet developing throughout the play, which is really exciting to watch from a literary history standpoint. HVIP3 is much stronger than the two previous parts (especially with the introduction of my "misshapen" and "ignoble" fave Richard Duke of Gloucester). Shakespeare's complex account of civil war is filled with broken oaths, gory betrayals, outrageous plot twists (there were many funny parts in this series), and multigenerational grudges. It was fabulous.
HVIP3 is thus easily up to the modern standards we're used to in Shakespeare today because he gives us an almost incoherent thread of narrative whilst also guiding us through an overwhelming amount of (melo)dramatic incidents with poetic mastery. And, even though Shakespeare was obviously writing fanfiction of history rather than History, -- hence his many liberties and historical inconsistencies -- he manages to keep coming at us with compelling human action and strife. One reviewer said, "We have the benefit of characters we've grown to know and love on both sides of the fence, too, full of all these past enmities and woe, rising to a complete clusterfuck of civil war from nearly equally matched foes that JUST WON'T END." So yes, Shakespeare isn't writing History, he's writing a legend. A story, which is what the past ends up becoming anyway.
The conflicts are emotional and bloody. (So many lopping-off of heads and veiled threats for rape). The only source of peace anywhere in this play comes from weepy Henry VI, whose meditation on the molehill, (which parallels the one where Richard of York was lowkey killed via paper crown) while darkness covers his realm and civil war is raging around him, is one of the most gripping moments in the whole saga: "Would I were dead, if God's good will were so — / For what is in this world but grief and woe?" Henry VI's dismal sentiments are represented by the father killing a son and a son killing a father (which could very well just be a hallucination he made up, like King Lear). Through this scene, Shakespeare manages to convey how even the most intimate and sacred of family loyalties have been divided, further exacerbated by the nobles, who are supposed to have all the power, such as Warwick, constantly changing sides out of mostly sheer pettiness.
There's an element of suspense too since -- at least in this play -- the audience is always conscious of the fact that the Lancastrian team seems to be in the weaker position, albeit they do have a badass Queen Margaret on their side. They notably lose more battles than they win, and even with French auxiliaries and support, they're unable to turn the tide in their favor -- probably because the man they're trying to keep on the throne lowkey doesn't even want to come out on top.
I liked the passive tragedy of King Henry VI. All his life he'd been living in his stranger father's shadow and became a king too early. Everyone preferred to betray or manipulate him than help him, and even when people like Queen Margaret or his uncle Hastings in Part 2 wanted to keep him in power, his passivity is so ingrained into his character that he takes zero action. HVIP3 shows Henry VI at his most resigned and helpless. He truly becomes an onlooker of his own kingdom rather than a participant, let alone its divine ruler.
And yes, the scene where he yearns to have been born a commoner who could spend his days shepherding and living a simple life were sad, but Shakespeare doesn't allow us to sympathize with him too long because Henry VI never takes responsibility. In Lull's introduction, she criticizes his attribution of everything to chance and fortune, which allows him to place all the blame on destiny and not himself. That's understandably frustrating and unbecoming of a king, so I found it extremely fitting that he dies saying a prophecy. It was perfect how even in his final moments Henry VI relied on God's will and essentially karma to make things right, rather than his own hands. He didn't even put up a fight, just like when Edward IV and his entourage stormed into his court and demanded he relinquish his title. Truly passive to a fault, and to the very end.
This "lily-livered" king's contrast is Richard, whom Lull calls "self-reliant" like the rest of the York clan; he's an opportunist and doesn't leave anything to chance. Yet still, Shakespeare reveals his stubbornness and defiance against fate is nevertheless another problematic extreme, since he cares more about forging his own bombastic path than looking at the cards that've been dealt him. As Lull puts it, "The heavens may indeed rule Richard's life, but they cannot make him like it." That's exactly why he's such a fascinating antagonist, and Shakespeare really was ahead of his time for making him the main character in his longest History play. At no point are we meant to try to justify Richard's savagery, but he's just so fucking unhinged and messed up that we can't look away.
In the end, I derived a lot of satisfaction in clicking all the big names into place. I love the history of the War of the Roses, but it's difficult to remember all the major figures (mostly because, again, they all have the same names). Hence why I liked the symbolism of the York and Lancastrian "heirs" both being named Edward. Of course, there's Henry VI's son Prince Edward, but there's also King Edward IV, who then begets another Prince Edward. So many Edwards! And none of them are going to survive for very long! Oh, how we live on as ghosts and die just the same throughout family lines and time!
HVIP3 also teased at Henry VII and therefore the upcoming Tudor dynasty by showing a young Earl of Richmond, who Henry VI -- with his love for prophecies -- approves of and believes in. Obviously it's Shakespeare trying to kiss up to his audience, who by then were being ruled by Queen Elizabeth I (a Tudor), but I also found it to be quite haunting because everything that's happened is now resting on the shoulders of this one child. From a broader, more panned-out perspective, the saga that started all the way back to Richard II (which I read so long ago . . .) is now ending with Richard III. The numbered titles suggests no time has passed at all between ascensions, as if the third Richard was, naturally, the son of the second one. But in the middle of their (chaotic) reigns were Henry IV, V, VI, and VII! There's a compact symmetry to it that I quite enjoy, which only gets more disastrous now that we're onto the shitshow that's the Tudors. The play's final lines are from Edward IV: "For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy." Yeah right.
I'm going to take a long break from Shakespeare, but I'm happy to say that now I've read both Henriads and the entire War of the Roses saga. When I come back, I'll read Henry VIII.
