Either way, I've managed to throw together three-and-a-half pages. This consists of an introduction, two pages about the Nazis, and one page of poorly-developed, poorly-supported ideas. Hit the jump to keep reading.
Shakespeare plays have been
produced in Germany almost since they were written. His plays have always
interpreted, translated, and staged according to the values of the time:
examining how they were produced through the centuries provides a fascinating
cross-section of beliefs, traditions, and cultural values. This can best be
demonstrated by examining how Shylock the Jew has been portrayed on the German
stage. Germany has a deserved, though perhaps unfair, reputation of
anti-Semitism: examining Shylock through the centuries allows us to get a clear
and accurate view of Germany's relationship with Jewish culture.
The earliest German production of The Merchant of Venice is, technically
speaking, an adaptation. First staged in 1611, Der Jud von Venedig uses several contemporary plays as source
material in a complex, often confusing relationship. For example,
Using Shakespeare to argue that the
Nazis were anti-Semitic seems obvious to the point of irrelevance. However, a
careful examination of Nazi-era productions of The Merchant of Venice provide valuable insights into how the Nazis
used Jews in their propaganda campaigns, and, to some extent, how the people
themselves felt about the issue.
Nazi-era productions treated
Shylock in one of two ways: either as a gross comic stereotype, or as the
epitome of the evil, conniving Jew. Both these portrayals persisted throughout
the entire Nazi regime, from 1933 to 1944. In either case, the portrayal of the
actors were very well received (undoubtedly, at least in part, as a propaganda
move). For example, the Shylock in a 1942-1943 production, which staged the
play as a commedia dell'arte, was praised for his "powerful linguistic and
mimic effects," almost certainly a euphemism for his "exaggerated and
distorted characteristics"(Symington 249). It is worth noting that, in
this production, actors were placed in the audience to shout at and threaten
Shylock whenever he appeared on stage, adding an important element to how the
audience perceived this Shylock. (Symington 249). On the other end of the
spectrum, a 1943 production in Vienna, the role of Shylock was played by Werner
Krauss, who had played nearly every Jewish role in the notoriously anti-Semitic
film Jud Süss (Bonnell
172). Kraus apparently drew on every
negative stereotype of Eastern European Jews that he could, and, with his
portrayal of "the affected way of shuffling along, the hopping and
stamping about in a rage, the clawing hand gestures, the raucous or mumbling
voice" he effectively portrayed "the pathological picture of the East
European racial type in all his external and internal human dirtiness" (Bonnell
172; Symington 250).
Of course, the play also clashed
with Nazi doctrine on several points, requiring several alterations to the play
itself. Most notably, lines that were "favorable to Shylock or that showed
him in a positive light" were "delet[ed] or amend[ed]"--this
includes, obviously, Shylock's speech in III.1, but also includes individual
lines of dialog, like Launcelot's "most beautiful pagan, most sweet Jew"
in II.3 (Symington, 248). Further, Shylock's daughter Jessica, herself a Jew,
marries Launcelot, a Christian, in direct opposition to the racial codes in the
Nuremburg laws; most productions resolved this issue by making Jessica his
foster-daughter or otherwise removing her biological relationship with her
father.
Despite these changes, The Merchant of Venice was staged
surprisingly infrequently during the Nazi regime: 1934 saw up to a two-thirds
reduction in the number of productions from 1933. This is due to a number of
factors, including the above-mentioned alterations to the play, however, author
Wilhelm Hortmann offers another unsupported, though still compelling,
explanation why (Bonnell 178). Hortman writes that the most
"flattering" explanation for the reluctance to stage the play "is
that a sense of shame stopped most theater managements from adding insult to
injury" (Bonnell 176). Bonnell himself elaborates: "faced with the
choice between performing the play as grossly anti-Semitic propaganda or
incurring official displeasure, most companies chose the decent, or at any rate
more discreet option, of steering clear of such sensitive material"
(Bonnell 177). To me, this suggests a touching, if difficult-to-prove, view of
German culture. Beginning with Hitler's rise to power in 1933, many Jews, including
a number of prominent actors, left the country; later, the remaining Jews (many
of whom were undoubtedly involved in the theater at one point or another) were
rounded up and sent to death camps (Bonnell 169). Many of these Jews were
doubtless close associates and friends of the actors, directors, and producers
that remained: it is possible that they chose not to stage The Merchant of Venice, with its often blatant anti-Semitic tone,
in memory of those they once knew and loved. If this is true, then this
suggests that, even at the height of Nazi power, the German people--or, at
least, certain sectors of them--were much less anti-Semitic than has generally
been supposed.
Post-war productions have struggled
with how to play Shylock. In the decade immediately after the war, Shylock was
often portrayed as a noble Jew, "more sinned against than sinning,"
perhaps as a way of apologizing or making up for the Holocaust (Schülting 68).
Later productions have sought to
portray the effects of the Holocaust: for example, a 1968 television production
cast a 76 year old as Shylock, in a play largely staged as a light comedy.
Shylock, dressed in a prayer-shawl and yarmulke, acts as a "killjoy,"
his serious tone contrasting with the "sentimental" atmosphere of the
rest of the play, "confronting the audience with a past it would rather
forget" (Schülting
68). At the end of the play, when his fortune is confiscated and he is forced
to convert to Christianity, Shylock "raises his eyes towards heaven in
mute despair," draws his prayer-shawl over his head, and leaves the stage
by walking down an empty hallway, suggesting the "'disappearance' of the
Jews and their absence of the victims of the Shoah in post-war Germany" (Schülting 68).
This is amazing.
ReplyDelete