Fry's Planet Word (2011–…): Season 1, Episode 5 - The Power and the Glory - full transcript

This programme contains
some strong language.

Language is one of the most amazing
things we humans do.

It separates us from the animals,

gives us theatre, poetry and song.

It shapes our identity

and allows us to express emotion.

It makes us laugh, it makes us cry,

and it inspires us.

To be or not to be...

Fry's Planet Word. Episode 5
The Power and the Glory.

When language
reaches its highest state,



we give it a name that's terrifying
and irritating to some -

literature.

In this form, it gives us voice,
personality and history.

All literature does, really,
is tell our story

and how to do it justice
in one hour?

This programme isn't about
literary criticism,

or deciding who makes it or who is
left out of the great pantheon,

nor is it about history.

So it's just going to be
a very personal journey

and probably you'll disagree
with my taste, which is fine,

because there's really
no right or wrong here.

What I'm going to try
and explain to you

is why certain writing
makes me shiver with excitement

and why some makes me want
to bury my head in my hands.



But more of them later.

First, let's just step back
and see how it all began.

This is Turkanaland
in north-east Kenya,

not far from where it's believed
homo sapiens originated.

The Turkana are a fiercely
independent tribe of pastoral nomads

whose existence is dependent
on their livestock.

The menfolk spend much of their
spare time and energy

planning and then raiding cattle

from their neighbouring tribe,
the Toposa.

Understandable, as cattle
are the currency to buy a wife

and then keep her in beads

that are both decorative

and a measure of her wealth
and status.









This is where it all began.

Under the shade of trees,
around fires the world over,

people telling stories
of derring-do,

love and disappointment,
of being and becoming.

Here, I'm listening to
an extraordinary tale

of how the people went on a raid

against their wily, wily opponents,
the Toposa,

and stole off their cattle.









It may not be the Trojan Wars
but it has its elements of heroism.

Of course, they could just as easily
be telling stories like...

how the stars got their shine,
or why camels have bad breath.

There are many, many stories, but
supposedly only seven real plots.

At a most basic level, a good story
needs plot and character.

So let's deal with plot first.

According to some, they boil down
to just these - the quest,

rags to riches, comedy,

tragedy, rebirth, overcoming
the monster, voyage and return.

So Hamlet, or its Disney
incarnation The Lion King,

is an archetypal
voyage-and-return plot

wrapped in a revenge tragedy.

But does such thinking even help us
navigate our way through literature?

William Goldman,

regarded by many as the pre-eminent
Hollywood screenwriter of his time,

double Oscar winner,
he should know a thing or two.

Or maybe not, because perhaps
his most famous remark

about the Hollywood story mill
was that "Nobody knows anything".

The story itself, I suppose,
depends on something human.

It depends on caring about
one or a group of characters,

or about some sort of principle
like revenge or a quest?

I mean, is there any truth in this idea
that here are basically only seven plots?

No, I don't think so. I think,
basically, some, I mean, I just...

for my sins, I looked at a movie
that I wrote, Marathon Man,

many, many years ago
and that was based on two ideas.

One of them was, what would happen
if someone in your family

wasn't what you thought they were?

And the other one was,
I was walking on 47th Street,

- which is still there... - Yes, the
Diamond District. - The Diamond District.

And it was a hot day
about 40 years ago

and all the people that worked
in the Diamond District

were wearing short-sleeved shirts

and you could see all the terrible
marks from the concentration camps.

- Cos they're all Jewish. - They were
all Jewish and they were...

- Had their tattoos.
- Had their tattoos on.

And I got the notion,

what if the world's most-wanted Nazi
was walking along this street?

And then I realised
I couldn't figure out why he came.

And then I...
cos I'm very good on story,

I realised he was coming
because he needed heart surgery.

And then I thought,

asshole, what kind of a villain
needs heart surgery?

Yes! So I came up with the notion
of the diamonds years later

and thank God for Laurence Olivier.

I know that man.

It can't be...

Szell?

Szell?

Szell!

Szell! Szell!

My God, stop him!

Szell! Stop, Szell!

It's Szell!
Szell! Der Weisse Engel!

Der Weisse Engel is here.
Oh, my God. Stop him.

Stop him!

Der Weisse Engel!

And that scene still works.

Oh, it does. "Der Weisse Engel.
Der Weisse Engel."

So is the secret,
if I can squeeze the secret out,

is don't try and second guess
the genre

that's most popular at the time,
don't try and conform

to some apparent rule
of storytelling,

go with your gut about...

Yes. You've got to try and find
something that you can make play.

For example, in all the years
I've been doing this,

I've never done
a special effects movie, you know?

People say,
"They're on a spaceship and..."

I can't write that shit.

Other people can but I can't
and what you have to try and do

is you have to try and
figure out some way

to make something work that you have
confidence in when you're writing it.

I was reading about the man
who wrote The King's Speech.

He had a stammer when he was a kid.

I mean, who in the name of God

thinks there's going to be
a successful worldwide movie,

that wins every honour,

about a king who has a stammer?!

It's the worst idea I've ever heard,

- but guess what? It was
a fascinating story. - Yeah.

- Yeah.
- It really was and it works.

I suppose you can trace
storytelling, in our culture,

all the way back to that blind hero,
supposedly blind, Homer.

One wonders from what
you've said about Hollywood,

if you went with the story of
the Odyssey, or the siege of Troy,

having said which, they made
a movie about Troy,

so maybe Homer still plays.

Well, I remember I was young
when I read those two...

And they just destroyed me
and I remember,

I had no idea what I was getting into
and I just couldn't stop reading it.

I think those fabulous people...

are fabulous for a reason.

- Yeah. - There's something,
I'm going to say something stupid.

They were great at story.

- Yeah. - I mean, Homer really
had fabulous stories to tell.

Do you see, you gods of sea and sky?

I conquered Troy!

Me, Odysseus,
a mortal man of flesh and blood

and bone and mind!

The Mediterranean is the landscape
of Western literature's first,

and some would say
most influential works,

Homer's Iliad and Odyssey.

They have a magnificent plot.

It features sexual obsession,
kidnapping, loyalty, man love,

jealousy, war,
heroism and deception,

all wrapped up in the greatest
road movie of all time.

Well, a road movie on the sea.

The Odyssey recounts
the exploits and adventures

of the Greek general Odysseus -

Ulysses in the Roman version
of the story -

as he tries to get home
after the Trojan Wars.

It is filled with
fabulous encounters -

whether with the Cyclops,
Circe the archetypal femme fatale,

or adrift on drug-induced
happiness with the Lotus Eaters.

Homer's genius was to create vivid,
archetypal scenes

that transcended time and place.

The Sirens' episode
is only a few paragraphs long,

yet it has become embedded
in our collective memory.

On his way home, Odysseus must pass
the rocks where the Sirens live.

No-one has ever lived
to tell the tale

of what it is the Sirens sing,

as their song is so powerful,
it lures men to their death.

But Odysseus is intent on hearing it
and surviving.

"I took a large round of wax,

"cut it up small with my sword

"and kneaded the pieces
with all the strength of my fingers.

"I took each of my men in turn
and plugged their ears with it.

"They then made me a prisoner
on my ship,

"by binding me hand and foot,

"standing me up
by the step of the mast

"and tying the rope's ends
to the mast itself.

"We made good progress and had just
come within call of the shore,

"when the Sirens became aware
that a ship was swiftly

"bearing down upon them
and broke into their liquid song."

" 'Draw near', they sang,

" 'illustrious Odysseus,
flower of Achaean chivalry,

" 'and bring your ship to rest
so that you may hear our voices.' "

"The lovely voices came to me
across the water

"and my heart was filled with such
a longing to listen that,

"with nod and frown,
I signed to my men to set me free.

"But they swung forward
to their oars and rowed ahead."

"However, when they had rowed past
the Sirens and we could no longer

"hear their voices and
the burden of their song,

"my good companions were quick
to clear their ears of the wax

"I'd used to stop them and
to free me from my shackles."

And of course we never learn
from Odysseus

what that Siren call sounds like

but we know what it means.

Two millennia later,

James Joyce reinvented that scene

and, indeed, the whole plot of Homer
in his masterpiece, Ulysses.

Look at that pair acting up!

Homer's Odysseus is reincarnated
as a Jewish Dubliner, Leopold Bloom,

whose contemporary encounter
with the Sirens

was considered in its day
deeply shocking.

David Norris is not only a Senator

but also an acclaimed
and inspiring Joycean scholar.

I suppose the genius of the book
is that he managed to find,

in a single day in Dublin, Joyce,

examples of Odysseus's adventures
in the Homeric epic,

like the Sirens, the escape
from Polyphemus, Circe.

He found a modern equivalent.

It's a tour de force of writing

that has since never been matched,
I don't think, has it?

I can't think of anything
to match it.

Nobody's tried it in the same way.

No. But I think Joyce
had that extraordinary genius.

I mean, chapter four,
you hit the kidneys. Yes.

"Mr Leopold Bloom
ate with relish the inner organs..."

Read this, cos this is where
we're introduced to our great hero.

Here we go. Do you want to read this
for us, just this opening?

Cos it's such a wonderful
introduction to a character.

"Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish
the inner organs of beasts and fowls.

"He liked thick giblet soup, nutty
gizzards, a stuffed roast heart,

"liver slices fried with crustcrumbs,
fried hencods' roes.

"Most of all,
he liked grilled mutton kidneys,

"which gave to his palate a fine tang
of faintly scented urine."

- Isn't that mouth-watering?
- It is! And at first you think,

"A fine tang of faintly scented
urine" is a good thing?

And yet, anybody who eats kidney,
there is that and it is...

Yes, there is.
..faintly scented is so right.

But as you said it brings us
straight into having met characters

who are very intellectual,
you think,

this is about very smart people
who quote Shakespeare all the time.

And suddenly you hit this man Bloom,
with his love of his...

and he's going about
making breakfast for his wife,

setting things on the tray.

- The cat's running, you know,
stalking him... - And the cat

is the most wonderful
detail because,

when he looks at the cat first,
the cat looks at him back and says,

And then when he says
"Milk for the puss."

And then he leans down
to pour milk for the puss

and the cat says almost the same...
But not quite.

There's an R and that is the cat.
Indicates satisfaction.

There's a communication and the
whole book is about communication.

Now, a lot of people
have picked up Ulysses

and been baffled by it or thought,

"Oh, I might dip in
and slowly get the odd sentence

"but I'm never going to
understand it".

How would you suggest
they go about reading it?

Jump in.
Don't expect to understand everything

because the beautiful thing
about Joyce is you don't

and you never come to the end of it.
It's an inexhaustible treasure.

- And read it aloud.
- Yes.

It doesn't matter what accent.

The moment on the Strand,
for example,

where Stephen has been trying to make
a note of the sound of a wave.

- Oh, yes. - It looks like the
typewriter letting a sneeze,

but it's exactly the sound,
if you say it.

Most people would
be put off looking at:

And they say,
"Well, hump that for a lark"

But if you hear it, listen,
a four-worded wave speech:

- It's exactly the sound of a wave.
- Fantastic. Yeah.

- And Joyce does that all
the way through. - Yeah.

And, you know, Budgen tells a story
of meeting Joyce in Zurich

and Joyce was looking pleased
with himself and he said,

"Good day's work, Joyce?"
And Joyce said, "Oh, yes".

"Write a chapter?"

"No".

"Couple of pages?"

"Paragraph?"

"A sentence?"

And Joyce said, "I had the words
in the sentence yesterday

"but I got the order right today."

I mean, he's a mosaic artist.

Yeah. Every tiny little coloured
stone is in exactly the right place

- to give the effect Joyce wanted.
- Yeah.

The right word in the right order,
as Joyce said,

is as good a definition
of good writing as I can think of.

"Le mot juste"
as Flaubert would have it.

It's that precision in creating
a whole world

through the inventiveness
of language

that provokes and delights the mind

and makes great literature
so memorable.

Joyce had this extraordinary ear

for the musicality of
the Dublin language.

I mean, if you think, a word like
howanever. "So howanever".

I mean, just see the way the body
fits into that.

Or when Bloom was being attacked
in the citizen episode.

And, "Eh, mister!
Your fly is open, mister!"

And that second "Mister"

is the perfect pointing and
resolution of the line melodically.

- Yeah. - And Joyce could hear that.
- He had that kind of ear, didn't he?

Yes, and every kind of Dublin saying,

like "suck whiskey off a sore leg"
is one of these.

Joyce kind of almost collected
these things

and I often think that
subsequent writers

must have thought it
terribly unfair competition,

cos Joyce was so terribly greedy.

Yes. He was, he was a hoarder.

Left almost nothing behind
for other people.

A hoarder of linguistic treasure.

Yeah. Oh, look, here we are!

- Some kidneys. Is this...
- Lamb's kidneys?

It is indeed. Fantastic!
And a nice bit of Gorgonzola.

- And are they faintly scented
with urine? - And would you like

- a glass of Burgundy with that? - A glass
of Burgundy would be lovely, thank you.

So we're going to have a Bloom feast
cos that's what he has - gorgonzola.

Yes, it is. Gorgonzola
and good red Burgundy wine.

I think he calls it, "the feety
savour of green cheese". "Feety".

- Shall we see if there's a faint
scent of urine? - I think so, yeah.

And I wasn't going to,
but the smell is so delicious.

It is, it is good, isn't it?
There we are.

Mmm! Lovely.

Delicious!

Mmm.

- And tender.
- Very tender. Mmm!

Ulysses was the book I chose
as my Desert Island Disc.

It's one I can go back to
again and again

and not only for the sheer joy
of his language,

but also the humanity of his flawed
and un-heroic characters.

Joyce's books only sell thousands,

but one of his contemporaries
sells hundreds of millions.

The Hobbit and
The Lord Of The Rings trilogy

are the second and third
best-selling novels of all time,

just after Dickens'
Tale Of Two Cities.

New Zealand-based director
Peter Jackson

has devoted many years to bringing
JRR Tolkien's books to the screen

And, for him, Tolkien's admixture
of Norse, Middle English

and Anglo Saxon is one key

to the enduring success of both
the books and the films.

"Roads go ever, ever on,
under cloud and under star,

"yet feet that wandering have gone
return at last to home afar.

"Eyes that fire and sword have seen
and horror in halls of stone

"look at last on meadows green

"and trees and hills
they long have known."

I wondered how much you felt,
because you adapt these,

how much the language
matters to Tolkien,

- I think he's an extremely good
writer of English. - Fantastic.

I mean, just at the level
of the sentence,

that you really can't
improve much, can you?

It was one of the decisions we made
when adapting Lord of the Rings, was that

we tried to work as much of his language
into the script as we could.

I just think that one of the
beauties of the book

of the Lord of the Rings, and I think
it ultimately worked in the movie,

is that they're talking in a language
that is beautiful and poetic and,

even though it's not one that
we're used to hearing...

- It's so good. -... on the street,
you understand it. It becomes

accessible in a funny way.

But what Tolkien did great
with his stories and especially

his use of language is that he
treated them as historical.

- Yeah. - And I think that's the way
that we found, you know,

that was the door that we entered
when we went into the movies,

is that this isn't made up, it's not a

piece of gobbledygook, you know,
set on the planet Zog or...

- Yes.
- So such a thing.

I mean, every name,
every place name,

every plant name that Tolkien
wrote about, he based in some form

of a language, it was a language
sometimes that he created himself.

It was an archaic old
Middle English form of language.

- Like Oakenshield or something. - Yeah.
Wonderfully... - Everything meant something.

Everything actually had
a reality, and it was

it was almost like he did
literally create a history.

What I also admire about
Tolkien is, like Joyce,

his protagonists are reluctant
heroes, grounded in a reality,

no matter how fantastical
the world they inhabit.

But for Tolkien, the real heroes,
the true heroes, were the simple

- folk. - Yes.
- The decent folk.

There's, I think, you know, what Tolkien's
saying ultimately is to be a real hero

if you're good, if you're decent, if
you are prepared to offer yourself

up to protect your fellow friend.
And you have to wonder how much

of that came from his experiences
in the trenches and World War I.

Jackson is also known as a schlock
horror director, where plot is all,

and I wonder if, like me,
he shares my love

for the master
of the genre, Stephen King.

As you say I think he's one of
the great storytellers of our time,

of any time, really, partly because
he is so obsessed with storytelling.

That's right. The other thing about
Stephen King which I think is

is fantastic is that I don't think

he ever invents a character, every
single character he writes about,

- and these are good and bad, they're
sane and they're insane... - Yeah.

..are an element of him,
that he's not afraid to,

- you know, to dig into the dark
depths of his... - Absolutely.

... worst imagination and create
a character out of that,

so he literally mines
what he considers

the most evil part of himself and he
creates and absolute psychopath.

- Absolutely. - But you know
it's coming from a real place.

Whereas you get somebody who says,

"I'm gonna write the most evil
psychopath in the world"

- and they kind make stuff up...
- Yes.

... you read it and it might be horrifying,
but you're not connecting with it

- because you don't recognise any of it.
- Yeah, I agree.

Now, there's another
of my favourite writers who,

in his day was as popular as King,
is as brilliant with words as Joyce

and, like Tolkien and Homer, created
fantastical imaginary worlds.

Well, who could that be?

You know, if I could time travel,
this is where I would come to,

410 years ago,

and I would pop into one of the
taverns that line the Thames here

and I would listen to the language
of the street and I would

see if I could bump into Shakespeare,

Marlowe, Turner, Kyd, Middleton,
Webster, Johnson.

This period, the 1590s to 1600,
saw the greatest

flowering of theatre that
the world has ever seen.

Poets and playwrights seemed to
bubble from this town.

Shakespeare alone had a vocabulary
more than six times

the average of 10,000
that you and I might have.

He introduced 3,000 words
into the English language.

What distinguishes Shakespeare
from all his colleagues,

aside from his prodigious output,
was his concentration on character,

often at the expense of plot, which
he was content to lift from others,

Hamlet a case in point,
which was a re-working

of the Spanish Tragedy by Thomas Kyd.

Oh, that this too,
too solid flesh would melt...

thaw and resolve
itself into a dew.

Or that the everlasting had not fixed
his cannon against self-slaughter.

Oh, God, God...

- It was a radical exploration
of a single human soul. - Yeah.

In a way that hadn't been done
before either, but there hadn't

been that type of sort of navel
gazing, soul searching type of hero,

- it was much more objective,
as he called it... - Yeah.

whereas Hamlet does something which
nobody had ever seen before,

I don't think,
to quite such an extent.

Am I a coward?

Who calls me villain?

Breaks my pate across?

Plucks off my beard
and blows it in my face?

Shakespeare's genius was to turn
a pretty standard revenge tragedy,

about the prince who has to
avenge his father's murder,

into a deeply thoughtful meditation
about... everything.

Pigeon liver'd and lack gall. To
make oppression bitter, or ere this!

I should have fatted all
the region kites.

Did you have a view of it, sort of
growing up, when you started acting?

- Did you always think, "That One day"?
- I suppose,

but only in that sense that it's
seen as one of those kind of

- Olympic events for an actor.
- Yeah.

- One of those... - I was about to say
opening the bowling for England,

- but that's rather inappropriate.
- Quite, yes. - Keeping goal for Scotland.

Keeping goal for Scotland, yes,
it's one of those...

- it's one of the sort of marker
points, isn't it? - Yeah.

Bloody, bawdy villain!

Remorseless, treacherous,
lecherous, kindless villain!

O, vengeance!

Everything is contained,
particularly in Hamlet, isn't it?

- He's kind of the sex, life, death...
- Yeah.

- Hope, revenge, despair...
- Yes, and utterly contemporary.

- Yes.
- Which is sort of a magic trick,

because it remains 400 years old

and yet it seems to keep
being reborn and rediscovered.

I think Dorothy Parker said,
"I go and see Hamlet every ten years

"and I find Shakespeare's
re-written it in my absence".

That's absolutely it,
and every time you see it

every actor who does it
and the thing about Hamlet,

whenever you come to, and whoever
comes to it, it doesn't resist.

Because there's so much in it
and so much scope in it,

- so everyone can throw something at it
and reveal something new. - Yeah.

And what Shakespeare then does
is something no other revenge
play dared to do.

Ask the really big question,

which has become the most famous
line in the English language.

To be or not to be?

That is the question.

I wondered how, you know, when you
first sat in the rehearsal room

for a read-through or whatever

- and had to say "To be or not to be".
- That is the cliche.

- Yeah, quite.
- Yes.

Did you rush through it
and think... Or...

I think our director was savvy
enough that we didn't sit down

and do a read-through straight away,

so we sort of circled round it and
took the curse off it.

But, yeah, I mean, so many lines
are... so well worn.

- "Cruel to be kind"... - Yeah. - " Method
in his madness". All that sort of thing.

- "To the manor born".
- They just keep coming...

Yeah.
And you think, "How do I begin?"

And of course, you just begin by...

by not worrying about it is all
you can, which,

- it sounds terribly simple and
isn't... - Yeah.

There's sort of no way round it
other than going,

"This character happens
to say these lines here

- and they're the first time they'v
ever been said." - Yes. That's right.

Exactly. So that's why I think we
should trim some of the dead wood.

Dead wood?

You know, some of that stand-up
stuff in the middle of the action.

- You mean the soliloquies?
- Yeah.

And I think we both know
which is the dodgy one.

Oh? Oh? Which is the dodgy one?

Um..."To be..." "nobler in the
mind," "mortal coil", that one.

It's boring, Bill.

The crowd hates it.

Yawnsville.

Well that one happens
to be my favourite, actually.

I was in front of university students
the other day.

- Wonderful. lovely.
- Yeah.

And I said,
"Let's take what is now most...

"you'll be bored as I say it,
to be or not to be". Oh, yes.

"You'll be bored, bored, you're bored
shitless now as I say it, right?"
Yeah.

And I took out a Magnum gun.

And I fired it at the ceiling
and half the bloody ceiling fell down

and I went, 'Click, click, click'
to blow my head off, "To be...

"..or not to be".
They were, "Fucking hell!

"Ah..." Yeah.
"This is what it's about".

Yeah.

And I put this Magnum, of course I got
the plaster up there and it was a blank.

- But my God, you got their attention.
- Got their attention and so...

And that's what, and it is a speech,
'To be or not to be' that,

as you say, is so worn down and
eroded by familiarity that in fact

- it is about exactly that. It is,
"Do I do this?". - Yes.

- "Do I pull the trigger?".
- That's right.

How's it begin, that speech?

To be.

Come on, come on, Bill.

"To be a victim of all life's
earthly woes or not to be a coward

"and take death by
his proffered hand."

There, now,
I'm sure we can get that down.

No, absolutely not. It's perfect.

How about, 'To be a victim
or not to be a coward'?

It doesn't make sense, does it?

To be a victim of what?
To be a coward about what?

OK, OK. Take out victim,
take out coward.

Just start, 'To be or not to be'.

You can't say that, it's gibberish.

But it's short, William,
it's short. Listen, it flows...

'To be or not to be? That is the question'.
Da-da da-da da da da da da da da.

No?

You're damn right it's the question,

you don't have any bloody idea
what he's talking about.

What is it about it?
Is it simply because it is

the question that a lot of human
beings face, whether to end life?

- It's such a simple question.
- Yeah.

So I was sort of thinking,
"Well, what's all the fuss about?"

- I mean, you know...
- Yeah.

I mean, do I kill myself
or not? And...

it didn't sort of hit home until
well through the run,

when I suddenly thought
the calmness of that soliloquy,

the self control of that soliloquy,
which is unlike the other ones,

is part of that concentration of
energy and if you get it right,

you can feel it, feel the energy
of the theatre concentrating to a point...

You can feel that they're hearing it
for the first time.

- Which would be the real achievement.
- That's the prize.

He doesn't know what to say.
'To be or not to be?' and, you see,

he has to find it right
at that moment.

Yeah. That might be all he'd say...

- Yes.
- That's the question.

If you pause too long, as I did
once, and there was a person sitting,

- a little old lady and her...
- No!

-..father, her husband sitting right...
- Did he prompt you?

I came up right next to him in my
pyjamas, tearful and crying.

I said, "To be or not to be?"

And then I thought for a moment,
you know, what does that mean?

And she's turned to her husband
and said, "That is the question!"

- That's very touching.
- And he woke up, I think, and...

- so everyone heard it
and laughed a bit. - Yeah.

But I was able to say,
"That IS the question".

- Oh, right, you... sort of joined in
her thing, yeah. - Yeah.

- You affirmed her...
- That IS the question.

You're right. It was a wonderful moment,
actually. "That IS the question".

Bloody constraint,
for if you hide the crown,

even in your hearts,
there will he rake for it.

Therefore in fierce...

Of course, most of Shakespeare's
language is not as simple as

"To be or not to be" and many
people are, alas, put off for good.

..that, if requiring fail,
he will compel.

This is his claim,
his threatening and my message.

What is your feeling
about Shakespearian language?

Have you always found it a simple
matter to engage with the verse?

Sometimes it's difficult,
it does take a bit of unpicking

in terms of just meaning sometimes.

Well, I get sometimes very upset,
the way he's caned

and then people say, "Well, his
language". The language?! Yeah.

He has invented our language!
He is so ultra modern...

He's so accessible. There is
a power in the verse, you know...

"O for a muse of fire that would ascend
the brightest heaven in invention,

a kingdom for a stage,
princes to act

and monarchs to behold the
swelling scene..." - The swelling scene.

"Then should the..."
It has bounce and power

and so Shakespeare has
a reality, for God's sake...

But you know...

Here's a line from Shakespeare...
'Light thickens'?

Light thickens!

- Yeah.
- Where did that come from?

This is why I will
defend Shakespeare,

this is why they
need to look at it and bring it in.

We were very lucky cos presumably
we had teachers at school who

managed, well, I did,
managed to inspire me,

passionately inspire me about
Shakespeare, and then it becomes...

- completely compulsory.
- Yeah.

I'm afraid I am a little fearful
that our education system makes it

very frightening and
off-putting to people

who, like me, who couldn't
speak till I was seven years old,

you know, couldn't be understood
by anyone, I spoke so fast.

I speak fast still now and maybe
I still can't be understood.

- I had to have elocution lessons
to slow me down. - Yeah, me too

- I had the same thing. Sent to rooms
with two-way mirrors. - Yes.

- Made to speak with other kids
who couldn't speak. - That's right.

And learning this stuff
by heart and speaking it

was the first time
that I was able to express

all kinds of things in front of
people that I couldn't.

- My mind just went too fast.
- Yeah.

I think in the final
analysis, he is...

- we've got our author.
- Yeah.

- The blue planet has its author...
- Yes.

- And it is Shakespeare,
William Shakespeare. - Yes.

I count myself exceedingly lucky to have
been given English as my mother tongue.

There's no doubt that Flaubert, Tolstoy,
Goethe and any number of other writers

are immense talents
but, yes, Shakespeare

is our planet's author and I am not
talking jingoism here,

he just covers all the bases.

Over at the Comedie Francaise
in Paris,

they of course
revere their literary giants...

Racine, Moliere, Corneille,
Marivaux...

But do they also recognise
Shakespeare as the master?

Guillaume Gallienne is France's
foremost classical actor

and has played Shakespeare
along with Moliere and the rest.

What does he make of Hamlet's
most famous soliloquy?

'To be or not to be'. How does that
sound in French? How does that go?

Etre, ou ne pas etre,
la est le la question.

- That's very good.
- But there's different theories.

Some theorists believes that it's not
'To be or not to be, that is the question'.

but they believe it's 'To be or not?
To be, that is the question'.

Whoa! This is an example
of what you're saying,

about the reinterpretation
that French allows that play.

Well, it still engloves what's
suggested in the first version,

but it brings it
somewhere else also.

Do you think there's a freedom that you
can have if it's in another language?

You can translate it and it may not have
the richness of the original English,

but that you can just, you know, let go
of having to pronounce every syllable

- and give it a...
- I'm not so sure. No.

- I still prefer Shakespeare in English.
- You do? Yeah.

I learn a lot from how... When you
know how to act Shakespeare,

I think you can act anything.

If I were to put to you
an absurd question,

that if either Moliere
or Shakespeare had to be

expunged from the cultural pantheon,
hence they no longer existed...

- I would choose... I would keep
Shakespeare, by far. - Oh, really?

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

It's richer, for me.

Shakespeare, you can reckon
yourself in something human, in...

a quality or defect, but it's very...
it's higher, it goes higher.

- It goes far away, for me.
- Yeah.

- It makes me travel much more.
- Yeah.

Translation is a tricky area.

Can you even begin to grasp
the genius of Shakespeare in

another language, especially one as
Different, say, as Mandarin Chinese?

Entrepreneur
and aesthete Sir David Tang

and his old school chum,
Johnson Chang, have a view.

So, "Shall we seek life or should we
seek death? This is the main issue."

That's fun... It's...
So that rather gives the game away.

As if Hamlet comes on stage and
says, "Shall I commit suicide or not?"

It gives the game away.

Yeah, whereas 'To be or not to be' is
a sort of gentle, easing into the whole

sort of meditation that
he then goes through.

The trouble is that the words
'to be' does not exist in China.

Anybody translating 'To be or not
to be' must use the same verb

and just put a not in front of it...
Mmm.

but we have never seen
a translation that does that.

Isn't that interesting? Yeah.

- The Chinese just... gives the game away.
- Ok. Here's another question.

"Whether it is nobler in the mind to
suffer the slings and arrows

of outrageous fortune."
That's not an easy one.

I can only do...

'O, for a muse of fire that would ascend
the brightest heaven of invention.'

- No, but we meant in Chinese.
- Oh, in Chinese.

You're not supposed to mock your own
language. That's outrageous.

That's very funny.

What I love about Sir David Tang
is that he's funny

and utterly unafraid to say
whatever he likes.

He reminds me,
in some ways, of those

delectable eccentric
characters in PG Wodehouse.

Now, Wodehouse is one of my
all-time favourite authors and,

while many might consider him
about as far from Hamlet

or James Joyce as you could get,
I would disagree. I love them equally.

And that's the beauty of great writing -
it comes in so many guises.

Suppose that you were strolling
through the illimitable jungle

and you happen to meet
a tiger cub...

The contingency is
a remote one, Sir.

- Never mind. Let us suppose it.
- Very good, Sir.

Let us now suppose that you
biffed that tiger cub.

And let us further suppose

that word reached its mother
that you'd done so.

Now, what would you expect
the attitude of that mother to be?

In the circumstances, I should anticipate
a certain show of disapprobation, Sir.

Yes, very good, Jeeves.
Very well put.

'One of the best biographies
of PG Wodehouse ever written

is by Robert McCrum, 'so it gave me
great pleasure to catch up with him

'and have a conversation
about our beloved author.'

Robert, when people hear
the word "Wodehouse",

they think the voice
of the upper-class twit

and that it's a world of silly asses
and country houses.

And they might be put off by that
because they're not aware

the great secret of Wodehouse is

not the characters and the plots,
wonderful as they are, but the language.

Yeah, he's a virtuoso of language
and he revels in it.

But it's drawn on Old English,
Latin and Greek,

Middle English, Jane Austen,
Dickens, Tennyson.

These are all his subjects.

And he loves American slang,

poetry of everyday speech,
and he just loves...

He's got some great... I want to
read you one bit, if I may.

This is one of the most brilliant
opening lines of any Wodehouse.

This is The Luck of the Bodkins
and he goes,

"Into the face of the young man
who sat on the terrace

"of the Hotel Magnifique at Cannes

"there had crept a look
of furtive shame -

"the shifty, hangdog look
which announces that an Englishman

is about to speak French."

That's funny. That's so good.

And another character says

he doesn't try and speak French properly
because if he does, it gives him a nosebleed.

- That's very good.
- Yes.

That sentence could only have been written
by someone who knew the classics.

But at the same time
as this wonderful language,

he omits two of the great themes
of literature.

There's no sex and there's no death.

The only use for a bed in Wodehouse
is for someone to hide something under.

- Or to put a hot water bottle in.
- That's right, to booby trap them

by putting a darning needle
at the end of a broom handle.

He's a bit like... He's a kind of
Zelig-like character -

- he passes through this 20th
century... - Yes. - This incredible...

1900 to 1945's one of the great
half-centuries in terms of drama...

- Yeah - ...of any historical period.

- He passes through it... - Yes.
- ... untouched. He never grows up.

Care for a saunter,
Angela, old girl?

- Love to, Bertie, darling.
- Good-oh.

Ssh! Tom's listening to the news.

I have much to say
that's not for the public ear.

It's as if every sentence you read of his,
he's looked at it and thought,

"That's just a man crossing the room
and sitting down in a chair -

there must be another way."

So he doesn't put the £5 note
into his pocket, he "trousers" it.

So "to trouser" becomes a verb,
which is fantastic.

Words for "drunk" alone -
here's a list of them...

Awash, boiled, fried,

lathered, illuminated, oiled,

ossified, pie-eyed, polluted,

primed, scrooched, stinko,

squiffy, tanked and woozled.

- That's fantastic.
- All made up. - Yeah.

So there it is.

My only daughter, for whom I had dreamed
of a wonderful golden future,

is going to marry
an inebriated newt fancier.

Well, aunt of my heart, yes,
I can't but agree

that things are not too
"oh, ja, come spiv" at the moment.

Apparently, Wodehouse
is most popular with...

with, er, prisoners and people
in hospitals and, actually,

- if you think about it, I can't think of
a greater compliment for a writer. - No.

I mean, if you can make
prisoners and the ill happy,

then you've spoken to people who
are low and you've warmed them...

- Mmm
- ... just by language.

The number of people who I've encountered,
having written this biography,

who tell me that when they're feeling
down they turn to Wodehose.

- I don't know whether this works
for you. - Absolutely does, yeah.

They'll read a favourite or a new
Wodehouse - and there are plenty of those-

- to cheer themselves up.

George Orwell was
a contemporary of PG Wodehouse.

He was educated at Eton, but
he rejected his caste and his class.

Even his rather unprepossessing
name of Eric Blair was changed.

Politics were his theme.

Animal Farm and 1984
have rightly become classics,

warning us of the dangers
of totalitarianism.

Wodehouse and Orwell may seem
like unlikely literary bedfellows,

but they share a concern for using the
English language accurately and precisely.

But if Wodehouse never embraces
change, Orwell is all about change -

and his dystopian 1984 world
sees a vision of the future

that reduces English
to a bare minimum,

with the aim of reducing emotions
and thought to the same.

So with Newspeak,
if you can't say it,

then you can't think it or feel it.

It's a beautiful thing,
the destruction of words.

You won't have seen the Dictionary
10th Edition yet, Smith.

It's that thick.

The 11th Edition will be that thick.

'Praise be to our leader
and the party workers.'

Newspeak was what
Orwell coined as a title

for this particular political language in a
tyranny that he imagined as being in 1984.

I mean, as ever,

Orwell has written better
about English than anyone else.

And that particular invention
is fantastic,

cos it's very, very simple,
all of Newspeak.

You know, like Doublethink - they're
all very simple sets of words,

but the whole point of all of them
is to be euphemistic

and to prevent you
thinking about the truth.

And becomes really nasty when
it's in military situations,

so you have "collateral damage",
which means "dead civilians",

- and you actually don't really want
to think about it. "Rendition." - Yes.

"Someone's been rendered somewhere."
Someone's been taken on a plane

- to somewhere where you
can torture them. - Yes, yes.

You know, all of these words
are deliberately vague and bland

to stop you thinking, "That's really
not what we should be doing."

Ian Hislop, editor of the satirical
magazine Private Eye,

shares Orwell's love
of clarity with language

and has devoted columns to exposing
humbug and the inglorious use of language.

So, these columns tend to start

because people are irritated with

particular words
or a particular sort of jargon.

And the management speak -

we originally called it Birtspeak,
after John Birt,

because the place where this management
drivel reaches its apogee is the BBC.

I mean, well away from the cameras
and the creative process,

there are decks and decks of people
who are telling each other

about "traction" and "rolling out
360-degree platforms"

and this is taking up
a lot of their time.

This, I always thought, was the
classic Birtspeak. A lot of these...

A lot of the jargon's
focused in job adverts,

but you have to guess this one.

"Procurement is targeted
with delivering savings

"on generic goods and services,
pan-BBC,

"through a competitive category-management
initiative and driving compliance.

"The Category Manager -
Logistics, Ground Transport

"is responsible to the
Head of Production

"and Logistics and Senior
Category Managee - Logistics."

- Holy...
- And guess what that is a job for.

I know the word "logistics" means
"haulage" is it to do with transport?

- Lorries?
- No, it's booking taxis.

- That's it.
- Taxis...

Taxis that another manager has
already decided

BBC executives shall never, ever use,
as it might get into the Daily Mail.

That is astonishing!

But we had a classic about
three or four years ago of...

We called it "neologisms",

- but it was, everything was
"the new" something else. - Yes.

- Everything was the new black for a time,
wasn't it? - Everything was the new black.

"Botox is the new heroin.

"Opera's the new cocaine.

"Spelling's the new punctuation.

"Checking your inbox
is the new going out."

Oh, here's a good one...

"At the risk of going into
Private Eye, I think white pepper

is the new black pepper,"

says Stephen Fry
in Sainsbury's Magazine.

I did know what I was doing
but it was absurd, of course.

So that's the point - all these...

- not things you've made up just to
be amusing. - No. - They are genuine.

No, and that is the great joy of,
er, the real quote,

is they're always funnier
than anything you could make up.

Alexander Pope, I think, he wrote
this marvellous essay on criticism.

If you want to talk about
how well language can be used...

He said, "True wit is nature
to advantage dress'd

"what oft was thought,
but ne'er so well express'd."

- Gorgeous. - And that's it. You want
someone to tell you something.

You think, "Yes, that must be right.

- I've thought of that but I've never
said it that well." - Yeah.

And that, in a nutshell,
is what it's all about.

It's why we turn to the poets

in times of love, death,
joy and grief -

they just do it better
than anyone else.

"He was my North, my South,
my East, my West,

"My working week, my Sunday best,

"My noon, my midnight,
my talk, my song;

"I thought that love could
last for ever:

"But I was wrong.

"The stars are not needed now:
Put them out, every one;

"Pack up the moon,
dismantle the sun;

"Pour away the ocean,
sweep up the woods.

"For nothing now

"can ever come

to any good."

That poem was by WH Auden,
but you may well know it better

from the film
Four Weddings And A Funeral,

where it was magnificently used
in the funeral of the title.

It's extraordinary how something
can have such impact,

be so succinct and have such
emotional truth behind it.

Maybe it's something to do with
the very nature of a poem.

As Joyce would say, "The right words
in the right order."

'Richard Curtis - old friend,
creator of Blackadder

'and, of course, writer of the most
successful rom-coms of our generation,

'from Notting Hill, Love Actually
and, of course, Four Weddings

and that now-famous Funeral.'

I mean, tragically in my life,
in every film I've ever done,

the actual single best moment in
the film has nothing to do with...

nothing to do with me at all -
it's always the case.

Why did you choose that poem? And secondly,
were you astonished by that response?

Yeah, I mean, I chose the poem
because I didn't feel up to the job...

- Right, I see.
- ... of writing a moving funeral,

so I thought I'd better leave it
to a better man.

But also, I mean, the fact that
I knew it was, in a funny way,

because I'd always been told
I should study Auden and Lovell

- and then I didn't understand
most of his poems. - Right.

I remember being very thrilled
when I came across that one.

I think it's no coincidence
that it's in fact, as you say,

- called Funeral Blues
and is in fact a lyric... - Yes.

- Was meant to be sung. - Right.
- And that sort of is...

probably, for me, quite symptomatic

of the fact that I've got
a great passion about lyrics -

in a way, more than poems.

It's become the thing
for funerals, hasn't it,

for music to be chosen,
songs to be chosen?

There are ones that are...

They're cliches but one
shouldn't mock them -

you know, I Did It My Way
and Je Ne Regrette Rien.

Angels, I believe, is number one
at funerals these days.

They do have top-ten lists,
don't they?

I heard someone had Countdown

playing when his coffin
went through the curtains.

"Da-dum, da-dum-dum, boom."
It's another way of doing it.

But still people read poems -
there are a few -

but you feel that actually lyrics
have more...

I won't say "more power",
but that they do the job better,

they can express emotion
everybody can understand?

- Is that...?
- I don't know.

The thing is about poems,
people don't have

as passionate access
to them now as they did.

People were apparently outraged
by the work of Byron

- and people knew about it, and they
were more famous... - Yes. Yes.

It's hard for a poem
to break through.

Perhaps what happened
on the Four Weddings one was,

it was a rare example of a poem
being put out to enough people...

to get a passionate reaction
and, of course, poems are

often perfect, word for word.

Pop lyrics are often not perfect,
but they are known by so many people

and they've got the passion and
perfection of the music behind them.

You know, there also are very...

there are geniuses working
in the world of pop lyrics now.

Paul Simon has written some
very extraordinary things.

The Boxer is very extraordinary.
Every day I think of that line...

"A man hears what he wants to hear
and disregards the rest."

As you go through life
and realise people are only hearing

a bit of what you say, because
it's the bit that suits them.

It's part of the fabric
of your life now.

Now, if you pick a poem, it may be
the first time someone's heard it,

they've got to piece it together...

- Yes. - Whereas if you have... There's
a song by Coldplay called Fix You,

- and you can't do much better than...
- Yeah, right.

... "I will try to fix you," after
a terrible sorrow has occurred.

It's got a tremendous potency

and the fact that the lyrics
may not be as well crafted,

the compensation of
the beauty of the tune

is enough to turn it
back into something deeper.

I suppose there's the feeling that your
whole generation heard that song together,

so it has a sort of binding effect.

- It connects you all. - Yeah, you know,
if you stood in a stadium...

- Yeah. - ...with 45,000 other people
who know those words... - Yes.

..they become... It is,
it's a Nuremberg Rally of pop.











Well, there's no doubting the intensity
of that collective experience,

but can Coldplay or
the rapper or band of the moment

really stand alongside
the pantheon of great poets?

Sir Christopher Ricks is one of the most
eminent literary critics of his generation.

He's written on everything from Keats,
Tennyson, Milton and TS Eliot,

but he doesn't shy away
from popular culture.

His latest opus has been
on one of his all-time favourites.

♪ Thinking about the government ♪

♪ The man in the trench coat
Badge out, laid off ♪

♪ Says he's got a bad cough
Wants to get it paid off... ♪

You've, you know, written
a full-length work on Dylan,

which I think you would call poetry,

although, of course, it is written
often and mostly for singing.

Dylan is, I think, a great artist.

I think that he's, er...

simply astonishingly imaginative
with words.

♪ Darkness at the break of noon ♪

♪ Shadows even the silver spoon ♪

♪ The hand-made blade
The child's balloon ♪

♪ Eclipses both the sun and moon ♪

♪ To understand, you know too soon ♪

♪ There is no sense in trying... ♪

I think again and again, Dylan
is very good when you could imagine

an unimaginative creative-writing
school telling him he'd got it wrong.

♪ So don't fear ♪

♪ If you hear ♪

♪ A foreign sound to your ear ♪

♪ It's all right, Ma ♪

♪ I'm only sighing... ♪

When you sing, "Don't fear if you
hear a foreign sound to your ear,"

you can imagine somebody saying,

"No, no, it's either a sound
that's foreign to your ear

"or you hear a foreign sound
in your ear.

"You don't hear a foreign sound
TO your ear". Oh, yes, you do.

♪ As some warn victory,
some downfall ♪

♪ Private reasons, great or small ♪

♪ Can be seen in the eyes
of those that call ♪

♪ To make all that should be killed
to crawl ♪

♪ While others say, "Don't hate
nothing at all except hatred"... ♪

This is wonderfully well put.

It couldn't be better put.

In a sense, that's almost the
definition of poetry that you need,

- and none other.
"This is so well put." - Yeah.

- It sounds almost trite.
- Yeah.

And yet that actually says so much.

So that's it.
There really are no rules.

There is no right and wrong as to
what makes good or bad writing,

and all I can urge you to do is
to read and read some more,

for therein dwells
the story of us all.

Much of our extraordinary ability with,
and delight in, language has ended up here,

on the page, recorded forever,
for us and for our ancestors.

It has the power to move us,
console us and inspire us.

Without doubt, it is
our species' supreme achievement.

It is our glory.

♪ So don't fear ♪

♪ If you hear ♪

♪ A foreign sound to your ear ♪

♪ It's all right, Ma ♪

♪ I'm only sighing ♪