Harriet Walter’s new book draws inspiration from a famous moment in “Romeo and Juliet” where Romeo passionately declares, “she speaks,” only to follow with the poignant “yet she says nothing.” Though Juliet does have her moments of desperate eloquence about love, she speaks far less than her male counterparts throughout Shakespeare’s works. In fact, Rosalind from “As You Like It” stands out as the exception, commanding the stage with her boldness and humor, while many other female figures merely observe in silence. For example, Gertrude, Hamlet’s mother, is present nearly half the time, yet manages to utter only one line for every ten spoken by her loquacious son, who ironically deems his own verbosity as excessive.
Walter, who has portrayed numerous Shakespearean roles from Viola to Brutus, openly states, “I worship Shakespeare.” However, her intent in this book is to critique the limitations of his perspectives on women. She offers a series of supplementary speeches, primarily written in iambic pentameter, enriched by her own reflections on the characters throughout her theatrical career. For instance, her version of Katherine from “The Taming of the Shrew” challenges her audience with the question, “Whose side are you on, ladies?”
Walter’s work provides insightful commentary—she gleefully highlights Bianca’s “anger issues” and critiques her choice of partner while poignantly recognizing the struggles of women with relationships marked by domestic violence. A humorous exchange unfolds among motherless daughters in her collection, reflecting their shared experiences of feeling the absence of maternal figures in stories, urging writers to incorporate such roles in their future works.
The speeches present fresh female perspectives on familiar narratives. For example, Gertrude reveals her authentic feelings about her husband while also confronting her son’s overt misogyny, passionately declaring, “You’re wrong to think that sex begins to pall.” Olivia, meanwhile, grapples with her attraction to Cesario, all while acknowledging the complexities inherent in their gender dynamics.
In a striking reimagining of Isabella’s silence at the end of “Measure for Measure,” Walter shifts focus, expanding a brief exchange into a thought-provoking soliloquy that resonates with modern audiences. In doing so, she draws parallels to Shakespeare’s original text while invoking the rich emotional landscape of characters who often linger in the shadows.
Walter’s book also explores the interplay between isolated female figures in a dialogue, notably between Hermione and Imogen from “Cymbeline.” Their humorous reflections on moments of maternal absence offer profound insights into the necessity of including maternal influences in contemporary storytelling.
While the collection tends toward playful and humorous tones, it remains essential to balance that levity with the gravity of dramatic scenarios. Lady Macbeth’s poignant rhymes evoke deep themes but risk triviality with certain phrases. There’s a reason Shakespeare often opted for unrhymed verse: it lends itself better to nuanced emotional expression.
The phrase “she speaks” finds itself echoed during Romeo’s encounter with Juliet, reinforcing the initial paradox of silence and assertion. Ultimately, Walter invites readers to engage with these characters vocally, suggesting that perhaps “a woman’s voice may do some good,” as recognized by the queen of France in “Henry V.”
Emma Smith, a professor of Shakespeare studies at the University of Oxford, sheds light on this exploration of voice and silence in female characters, propelling a vital dialogue about women in literature.