If it seems like this post is awfully crowded with Queens, then imagine how Londoners felt in 1568 when two very different royal personages both claimed to be the rightful queen of England.
There was the incumbent and virginal Protestant, Elizabeth I, who attempted to make up for the doubts about her legitimacy and the presumed weakness of her sex by putting duty ahead of her personal feelings in all state matters. Then there was her vivacious Catholic cousin Mary, who was crowned Queen of Scotland when she was only six days old and became the Queen of France as well at seventeen. Painfully susceptible to intrigue, she scandalized Europe when she married the man presumed to have killed her former husband. Mary's (somewhat legitimate) claim to Elizabeth's crown made the virgin queen a target for assassins and would-be revolutionaries, and fearing an uprising, Elizabeth imprisoned her cousin on a murder charge that eventually resulted in Mary's execution.
The tense relationship (which I am drastically oversimplifying here) is the subject of Friedrich Schiller's astounding play, Mary Stuart, which is currently in previews on Broadway; it will officially open on April 19th. I can't recommend it strongly enough; observing these two enigmatic and embattled women at close range was a mesmerizing (and, at times, terrifying) experience. Schiller's script -- which imagines a meeting between these queens that never actually occurred in real life -- is both political and deeply personal, and I'm sure that by the end of it everyone in the audience figured they'd probably rather die than have someone put a crown on their head. Though the gowns were pretty fabulous...
Anyhow, you can blame Mary Stuart for today's twofer; I try to avoid fairly obvious icons when I post cards, but this excellent piece of theatre deserves all the support I can muster. As our reigning Queen of Swords, Elizabeth is the very picture of judicious, sadder-but-wiser wariness. She's extremely calculating, but this is to compensate for her own vulnerability, which she fears more than anything. To keep herself on course, she strategically looks two or three stages ahead before risking a single step. This caused her advisors no end of frustration -- whenever they tried to urge her into action, she'd simply tell them "video et taceo" ("I see, and say nothing") and take her own sweet time weighing the matter.
Of course this style of ruling -- forcing one's own desires and needs to take a backseat to matters of state -- comes at a great personal cost, especially in the long term; discipline should polish and transform the raw material of your soul, not suppress and replace it. The Queen of Swords is a beautifully effective force to invoke during a time in your life when you must steel yourself to exact your judgment to the letter, but no matter how good it feels to wield that power, it's impossible to do so for long without experiencing heartbreak and alienation.
And now our dazzling Queen of Wands: Mary lived, ruled, and died by her passions, thus fulfilling the transformative aspects of her suit. For example, she met her executioners on the scaffold in a black gown, but disrobed to reveal a deep red garment which symbolically announced her as a martyr. It's said that in prison she embroidered the phrase "En ma Fin gît mon Commencement" ("In my end is my beginning") on her royal tapestry. This drama queen even inspired a Tarot deck portraying the events of her life, which you can glimpse here.
The Queen of Wands is not the most trustworthy character you'll ever meet, but she's so radiant and magnetic that you'd probably follow her into battle regardless. She has no time to look ahead -- she trusts that by rapidly evolving and making the most of each moment as it passes, she will always end up in the right place at the right time, and she's good enough at it that it works in her favor most of the time. That quality makes her a bewitching and inspiring presence to kindred spirits as well as more grounded individuals, but others will react with jealousy or ridicule -- not that she'll notice, or give a damn. If you happen to be charming and persuasive and have a funny way of turning what you want to do into what others want to do, then you just may have found your progenitor. But remember: when you live and govern so capriciously, any miscalculation or sudden change can knock you flat, which is exactly what happened to Mary in the end.
Two Queens, one a glittering scion of strategy and responsibility, the other a burning beacon of potential and revolution. These ladies have more in common than they'd ever believe, but their pride and their antithetical instincts will keep them from ever making that discovery. Doesn't that sound like a show you'd like to see? Get thee to the Broadhurst Theatre this spring, and watch Janet McTeer and Harriet Walter bring these two cards to life before your very eyes!
No comments:
Post a Comment