Having spent 48 hours in Shakespeare's birthplace as part of a recent JR trip, Leigh Russell reflects on her journey
On Wednesday 27 September, a group of Jewish Renaissance readers met at Golders Green station and set off for an overnight stay in Stratford-upon-Avon. While this was not the most far flung of the trips run by JR, it was certainly an interesting experience. That evening, we watched Tracy-Ann Oberman play Shylock in The Merchant of Venice 1936. The production was set on a thrust stage, enabling the actors to engage audience members directly, appropriate for a Shakespeare play in the atmospheric Swan Theatre.
The production drew a parallel between the British Union of Fascists seeking power in the 1930s, and antisemitism and racism in Venice, and Belmont, in the 16th century. The message is clear: antisemitism is evident throughout history. It is, of course, an important message, and one that Oberman is keen to spread. Outside of our own community, not many people are aware of our long suffering history. Many non-Jews commented in reference to my own novel – Abigail of Venice, set in the 16th-century Jewish ghetto of Venice – that they had not realised Jews suffered any persecution before the Holocaust.
There remains, however, a problem with using The Merchant of Venice to enlighten audiences about Jewish stereotypes. Of course, we can view Shylock’s "pound of flesh" as metaphorical. In a fascinating talk ahead of the trip, Dr Pam Peled, journalist, English literature lecturer and the writer behind JR's Letter from Israel column, explained how ‘flesh’ in Shakespeare’s day was a euphemism for male genitalia – rather like our present day ‘meat’. Shakespeare’s audience would doubtless have been entertained by this idea, but a modern audience might have a different response.
Despite the vile way the ‘Jew dog’ is treated in the play, the visceral image of Shylock demanding his ‘pound’ and raising his knife to redeem his bond, is unlikely to engage much sympathy for the character today.
We all enjoyed the production very much and were thrilled to be joined by Oberman afterwards for an informal private talk in the bar. She told us that she does not believe Shylock would have gone through with his threat, and it is true her hand shook visibly when she raised her knife on stage. But there is nothing in the text to suggest that Shylock is making an idle threat. On the contrary, he rejected a generous offer of recompense in favour of having his revenge on Antonio. This, for me, is the problem with soliciting sympathy for Shylock at the end of the play. Betrayed, deceived and persecuted as he is throughout, his claim that "sufferance is the badge of all our tribe" is ultimately belied by his insistence that he "will have my bond".
It may well be that Shakespeare felt sympathy for Shylock. His genius was to take traditional stereotypes and mould them into convincing characters, to "consider things from his point of view… climb inside of his skin and walk around in it", as Atticus Finch says in To Kill a Mockingbird. Certainly the famous speech "Hath not a Jew eyes" supports that theory. And Shakespeare undoubtedly shows understanding of people from other cultures, like the 'noble Moor’. As "one that loved not wisely but too well", Othello ultimately cuts a tragic figure. Yet Shylock is not afforded a similarly dignified exit. In the end, perhaps it was Shakespeare’s audience who demanded the Jew be punished as a villain and forced to forfeit his material goods and abandon his heathen faith by converting to Christianity.
There are many sympathetic representations of Jews in English literature, but Oberman is right when she says the two iconic characters, Shylock and Fagin, both fall into obnoxious stereotypes. If we are disappointed in their creators, perhaps we do them a disservice. Shakespeare and Dickens were both notorious crowd pleasers. They were keen to be popular and, to be fair, they were both painfully conscious of the perils of poverty. It was probably their antisemitic audiences who prevented them from presenting a sympathetic portrayal of a Jew. Shakespeare was perhaps holding a mirror up, not to human nature, but to society. Whether the two are indistinguishable is another debate altogether.
After our fascinating trip to the theatre, en route back to London we stopped at Upton House, a National Trust property that was formerly Lord and Lady Bearsted’s country retreat. We were privileged to be shown around by Robert Waley-Cohen, who married into the Bearsted family and lived at Upton House before building his own, somewhat more comfortable, residence on the estate. When the British government agreed to take in 10,000 German Jewish children in the late 1930s, four prominent Jewish families stepped up to underwrite the Kindertransport. The Waley-Cohens were one of those families. There is always a personal history attached to Jewish journeys, and both parents of a member of our group, Danny Habel, were brought to England on the Kindertransport.
Upton House is home to a spectacular collection of artworks, including pieces by El Greco, Canaletto, Holbein, Hogarth, Gainsborough, Brueghel, Bosch, Constable and many more, along with beautiful tapestries, elegant furniture and exquisite Sèvres porcelain. It was a really stunning display and we were extremely fortunate to have Waley-Cohen as our guide.
We arrived back at Golders Green station on Thursday 28 September tired and, I think, a little wiser after an excursion that was typically both enjoyable and educational. I know I speak for everyone on the trip in expressing my thanks to JR's Executive Director Dr Aviva Dautch and Programme Producer Emma Brand for orchestrating such a well run and thought-provoking trip.
By Leigh Russell
Want to join our next trip? Visit the JR events page. Abigail of Venice is Leigh Russell’s historical Jewish novel, set in the 16th-century Venice ghetto. See leighrussell.co.uk to find out more about her books.