Episode 6 - Professional Wrestling

Hello, and welcome to the Shakespeare Sonnets Podcast.  Today, I’d like to start this episode with a story from my past.  Once upon a time, I used to be a Texas High School teacher.  It’s a job I’ve had before.  It’s a job I plan to have again.  During my first stint, before going abroad, which is where I am now, I taught for four years.  For the first two years, while getting my teacher certification, I was a substitute teacher.

I’ll be straight forward, being a sub is a pretty simple job.  The pay sucks, but it’s the easiest way to break into teaching, and it’s a great way to learn classroom management.  In case you’re wondering, no matter how extensive a person’s educational knowledge might be, if they can’t control 30 teenagers, they’re a bad teacher.

Subbing is how I learned my profession.  Despite what politicians and experts tell the public, it’s basically a learn-on-the-job sink-or-swim type of gig.  Let me quickly tell you about my first day as a substitute teacher.  I was getting ready before school.  A full time teacher from another class came in to check on me.  I told her it was my first day, and asked her, “what should I do?”  Her response to me was brief: “write your name on the whiteboard and don’t tell the students it’s your first day.”  Seriously.  That actually happened.  

Honestly though, being a substitute was usually a pretty chill job.  Most of the time, the regular teacher had no expectation for their guest teacher.  They’d just leave you an attendance sheet and busy work.  Usually, the students blew off the period and they’d either play on their phones or creatively do their best to get a note out of class.

My standard operating procedure back then was to take attendance and then spend the rest of class reading books.  It was a babysitting gig.  I got paid $80 and usually read at least 100 pages.  The students and I had an understanding.  They didn’t give me trouble, and I wasn’t a jerk.  Now, if you don’t like this depiction of the education system, I get it, but I recommend you blame someone more important than the guy who was making ten bucks an hour.

Anyway, one day I was subbing senior English.  Lo and behold, it was one of those rare occasions where I was actually asked to be a real educator.  Little did I know that this would be the first time I’d ever teach Shakespeare.  I still remember that day quite well despite the fact that it was probably around the year 2015.

Before school, the other senior English teacher at the high school came into my classroom.  She was clearly overloaded with too many tasks, and I was just one of many fires that she needed to put out before the first bell rang.  She told me that the other teacher was sick last minute and that the classes needed to start Act 1 of Macbeth today.  Could I introduce the Scottish Play and read through the first few scenes?

This was an exciting chance for me, one that I had spent years preparing for and though I had no idea it would be today, this was my moment.  I smiled and calmly told her that I was an English major, studying to be an English teacher, that I’d read Macbeth multiple times, and that I’d even seen Macbeth on Broadway with Patrick Stewart in the starring role.  This is all true by the way.  The teacher took two seconds to be envious that I’d seen Captain Picard in person on Broadway.  Then, she quickly remembered that she was overwhelmed, and that I was no longer on her to-do list.  She wished me well and hurried off to fix her next problem.

So, this was my fun challenge: teaching Shakespeare for the first time, but also as a substitute teacher.  I knew the seniors would absolutely not take me seriously.  So, I started each period normally that day.  I took attendance, then sent off a student to take it to the office.  As the student walked out, I slammed the door.  Not hard or aggressive.  The door was heavy and noisy.  It naturally slammed itself.  All it took was a gentle swing and voila.  Bang!  And here’s more or less what I said:

“Alright students.  Let’s get something straight.  You and I both know how this usually goes.  I give you some busy work and then we run out the clock on the period.  Well, that’s not how it’s gonna be today.

Ms. Such-and-such was supposed to be here today and she needed to start Macbeth.  Well, she’s sick, but that doesn’t change her lesson plans.  Not today.  Open up your textbooks to page whatever.  Today we’re going to read the first few scenes of Macbeth.  No.  Seriously.  You in the back, open up your book.  We’re doing this.  Okay, so let me start by saying, this is an awesome play.  Basically, it’s Game of Thrones, Renaissance Style.  If you put in the effort, you will love this story.

Before we begin, let’s add some context.  Let’s start by imagining what it was like to see a play in the Globe Theater circa 1600AD, four hundred years ago.  First off, Shakespeare didn’t work inside the city of London.  His business was too shady and improper for that.  Women weren’t even allowed to be actors.  To get to the Globe Theater, you had to walk across London Bridge.  Believe it or not, but there’d be heads on spikes on London Bridge.  You know, criminals.  Their heads slowly decomposing.  How’s that for a pre-show appetizer?

Shakespeare’s theater, the Globe, wasn't the only part of the business.  They also owned a brothel and bear fighting pits.  We’re talking prostitutes and animal cruelty.  Theatergoing during the Renaissance was much, much different than it is today.  The area in front of the stage was standing room only.  Those tickets were cheap and the patrons were often loud and drunk.  These audiences weren't expected to be quiet.

So, if a man went outside of town for a day of fun, he might watch Macbeth in the afternoon, visit a brothel before dinner, and then go to the bear pits in the evening.  If you don’t know what the bear pits were, well it’s probably more gruesome than you might think.  Bears and stray dogs fought to the death.  Usually, the bears won.  

So, think about it.  We’re about to start Macbeth.  The script hasn’t changed in four hundred years, but just about everything else has.  Now, I think you have a good idea of what it was like.  Let’s get started.  I need three students to be the Three Witches.  Who’s it going to be?”

And that’s it.  From there we read the play as a class.  I wish I could tell you that this was an epiphany moment for the students and that they all fell in love with Shakespeare.  Not exactly.  That’s not how non-AP classes work in Texas high schools.  But I would say the lesson was successful, and that’s enough.

Alright.  So why the long intro?  Is it because I liked this story and wanted to share it?  Well, yes obviously.  More importantly, I believe it’s germain to our discussion of the Sonnets.  Elizabethan theater and modern Broadway have little in common.  It doesn’t even matter if you’re watching Shakespeare on Broadway.

For one, most modern theatergoers are sophisticated people.  Or, at least that’s what they tell themselves.  They may get drunk and try to have sex after the show, but they’re absolutely not going to be loud in the theater.  I don’t care if you’re on Broadway, off-Broadway, or in a tiny 100 seater in Austin, Texas.  If you’re intentionally disruptive, they’ll throw your butt out.

Furthermore, most modern so-called sophisticated theatergoers aren’t exactly prime candidates for wanting to see inhumane animal violence.  Now, I can imagine a person watching Guys and Dolls, and then rushing home to catch a UFC pay-per-view, but I can’t fathom someone going from a production of Cats to a backalley dog fight.

This sort of cruelty just doesn’t jive with our modern sensibilities.  And to give further context and expand our understanding, we should consider the Globe’s business approach.  Renaissance theaters put on a new play everyday.  They constantly shook up the programming.  Modern local theaters often show the same play for a few weeks.  Some Broadway theaters have been showing the same play for decades.  A great example of this is the play Chicago.  It’s been in the same place swapping out the cast every year or so since the mid-nineties. 

If we want to better understand Shakespeare, we need to understand his day-to-day life and how he made his livelihood.  I think it’s easy to look at modern Broadway and somehow pretend Shakespeare would fit in as some sort of contemporary of Andrew Lloyd Webber or David Mamet.

Maybe, but I don’t see it.  Inhumane violence.  Pimping.  Whores.  Loud drunk raucous audiences.  New shows every night.  I’ll be honest.  If I were to compare Shakespeare to a contemporary person, it wouldn’t be anybody cultured or in high society.  Nope.  My modern manifestation of William Shakespeare is Vince McMahon of the WWE.  That’s right: professional wrestling.  You heard me clearly: I’m comparing the greatest writer of all time to a sports entertainment promoter.

When I was in middle school, I loved pro wrestling.  Bret the Hitman Hart, Stone Cold Steve Austin, the Undertaker.  I adored these guys, and they understood how to put on a show.  I used to watch Monday Night Raw every week.

Minus the prostitution of course, this is, to me, modern Shakespeare.  WWE Raw is basically the same thing every week.  Same performers.  Same set-up.  Same structure.  The only thing that changes is the storyline and it’s ever-evolving.  

This sounds to me a lot like what the Globe was putting on 400 years ago.  If you don’t believe me, let’s compare the Elizabethan stage with the squared circle.  A wrestling rink and the Globe stage are both very basic.  And, if nothing else, the crowds sound really similar.  The biggest difference is that Shakespeare had great writing and bad fighting.  Whereas the WWE has bad writing and great fighting.  Other than that, are they really all that different?

Now, for some of you, this characterization might be jarring.  When you went to see Twelfth Night at your local community college, you probably thought you were embracing cultured high society, not celebrating medieval pro wrestling.  But hey, maybe both are true.

Anyway, the point of this is to help us understand Shakespeare and his twenty year theatrical career.  It’s easy for us to retroactively project modern theater and think it was similar, but what if that is completely wrong?  What if Shakespeare was just a Renaissance reincarnation of Vince McMahon?  What if The Bard basically was the lead writer for a professional wrestling promotion?  And, most importantly, how would Shakespeare have felt about this?

Is this the job he wanted?  Is this how he wanted to use his writing talents?  Obviously, Shakespeare took the job and excelled at a level beyond anything before or since.  But, what if Shakespeare didn’t want to be a playwright?  What if he was only drawn in because it was the best place to get the most money?  Maybe Shakespeare would have preferred to have exclusively been a full time poet like Edmund Spencer or Sir Philip Sidney.

But, maybe he didn’t go that route because there’s more money in theater.  If this is true, it ties in with the conspiracy theories of the last episode.  Now, I’m not fully suggesting that the Bard was a sellout, but, at the same time, I kind of am.  In our modern age, we look at Shakespeare’s plays and his Sonnets with equal reverence.  However, what if the Bard had varying opinions of the plays and poems in his Complete Works?

There’s historical comparisons for context.  In the 1930s, great novelists like Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and Faulker worked on Hollywood screenplays.  To put it simply, they hated it.  They drank a lot and felt like prostitutes.  Later on in the century, once TV sets were in every home, screenwriters and actors alike did everything possible to stay away from the embarrassment of being on the small screen.  If they did, it was almost always purely for the money.

In our present day, there’s a television genre called reality TV.  Most people consider it lowbrow entertainment.  It’s also really profitable and pays well.  Aspiring film school graduates may have big dreams of being the next Martin Scorcese, but student loans don’t pay themselves.  And, plenty of filmmakers would rather be working in the industry than be above it and doing something else.

Heck, I’ll be completely honest.  If Vince McMahon hears about this podcast and offers me big money to be lead writer for the WWE, you can bet your butt that I’m signing that contract.  Now, I frankly don’t expect that phone call, but if it did happen, I wouldn’t feel like a sellout.  There may be more dignified ways for me to spend my time, but money is money and a paid creative job is still a paid creative job.

In conclusion, this may or may not have been a situation that Shakespeare struggled with four centuries ago.  Regardless of how he felt though, whether or not he actually was a sellout, he clearly took the money.  But, and here’s a serious question: what if Shakespeare had regrets?  What if he saw himself as a poet who sold himself short as a playwright?

This is very important because the Sonnets may provide some answers.  When I was in college, first developing this theory, my Shakespeare Professor directed me towards a scholar with an interesting idea.  This scholar proposed that the Sonnets is actually about poetry and theater.  Or at least, this is one way to interpret the work.  

He claimed that the Young Man sonnets are all about Shakespeare’s love of poetry and that the Dark Lady sonnets are a rebuke of theater.  In the next episode, I am going to build on this idea and really examine it.  We’ll continue this discussion then.  Next time we’ll debate the idea: did Shakespeare hate theater?  Obviously, that’s a super provocative title and the answer is probably no, but we’re going to consider this possibility and see what happens.

As a reminder.  The website is sonnetspodcast.com and my email sonnetspodcast@gmail.com.  See you next time.