Alls well that ends well là gì năm 2024
Nội dung có sẵn trên trang web của chúng tôi là kết quả của những nỗ lực hàng ngày của các biên tập viên của chúng tôi. Tất cả đều hướng tới một mục tiêu duy nhất: cung cấp cho bạn nội dung phong phú, chất lượng cao. Tất cả điều này là có thể nhờ thu nhập được tạo ra bởi quảng cáo và đăng ký. Bằng cách đồng ý hoặc đăng ký, bạn đang hỗ trợ công việc của nhóm biên tập của chúng tôi và đảm bảo tương lai lâu dài của trang web của chúng tôi. Occasionally, when situations merit, I like to take a look at the names used in the plays, to see if there are any deeper meanings or character insights to be gleaned by Shakespeare’s choice of monikers. With a play like Troilus and Cressida, it’s pretty much a non-starter (as it’s based on quasi-history or established Canon, thus unlikely to include any Shakespeare-created names). But what about All’s Well That Ends Well? What do we find there? Actually, not a whole heckuvalot. Let me ‘splain… There aren’t an overwhelming number of names used. Let’s start with the many unnamed (or mostly unnamed):
Now for the other (named) characters… Like Lavatch, Lafew is also an Anglicization, this time of the French Lafeu. In French, feu also has two meanings: as a noun, it can mean “fire” or “stove burner”; as an adjective, it means “late” as in recently deceased. Lafew is an old guy, but, as Parolles can attest, he’s still got some fire burning inside. Speaking of Parolles, his name seems to conjure the French word paroles, which means “word” or “speech,” and in some contexts “promise.” Parolles is all talk and no action (and if we want to link that last meaning, it’s ironic since Parolles is not very likely to keep any promise). Bertram is derived from the German, meaning “bright raven,” and its Latin version Beltramo is the name used in The Decameron. The Widow’s daughter is named Diana. There’s some disagreement on this, but some feel that the name is derived from Indo-European meaning “heavenly” or “divine.” In classical mythology, Diana was the Roman analogue for the Greek goddess Artemis, the goddess of the moon, hunting, forests, and childbirth. Both can be stretched and manipulated to work within the context of the play. Chaste even to the end (heavenly), Diana assists Helena in the hunting of Bertram (who is as changeable as the moon), and their scheme seems to look forward to a birth after the events of the play. And finally, Helena. In Greek, helene meant “torch.” The name, of course, is a version of the Greek Helen (remember last month’s Troilus and Cressida?). However, in early Christianity, the name Helena was rarely a reference to that mythological/historical figure, but rather to a fourth century saint, Saint Helena who supposedly found the True Cross during a pilgrimage to the holy places in Palestine, and who was also the mother of Roman emperor Constantine. Our Helena, too, goes on a pilgrimage–I would say to find True Love, but in my head all I hear is the priest in The Princess Bride: “T-wooo Wove.” [note: the title of this piece is a reference to The Man With No Name… since we have so many characters without names…] |