Aquí estamos con outras personaxes da obra, neste caso as mozas Luciana e Adriana, ben Adriana e Luciana. Son irmás, sí, as dúas de carácter e de vida noble, afeitas a que lle sirvan e que lle comprazan en todo aquelo que precisen. Adriana casada cun Antífolo, Luciana pretendida polo outro.
Como sei da vosa experiencia co inglés vouvos deixar cunha descripción que atopei dun director teatral:
Luciana
Character Analysis
OK, this may seem a little far from Shakespeare, but bear with us for a second; we’re setting something up. If you saw any of the previews over the last couple of years for historical romantic comedies like Becoming Jane or Pride and Prejudice (the one with Keira Knightley, not the awesome BBC miniseries), you know that advertisers have decided that the best way to sell women in Ye Olde Englande to a modern audience is to bill them as "ahead of their time" – headstrong, opinionated women wanting to marry for love instead of family duty. Any Harlequin Romancewriter knows that, to attract a contemporary audience to a woman character from before 1900, the author cannot make her old-fashioned, because it’s tough for a lot of modern readers to identify with a lady who really is just as quiet, obedient, and dutiful as her society might have expected her to be. This is pretty much the problem facing Luciana, one of the two primary women characters in The Comedy of Errors.
The thing is, Luciana’s sister Adriana totally upstages her all the time: Adriana storms onto the scene in Act I mad as hell at her husband for spending all his time with the Courtesan – and, literally, stepping out on her. Adriana has all the best lines: "Why should [men’s] liberty than ours be more?" and (again, on the subject of dutiful women) "There’s none but asses will be bridled so!"
But next to this outspoken lady (dare we say Adriana’s ahead of her time?), there’s meek Luciana, who tries to soothe her sister with the line, "[men] are masters to their females, and their lords" – and fat chance that’s going to work on Adriana’s righteous rage. If Adriana’s an early campaigner for women’s rights, Luciana is out there lobbying for the men, assuring her sister that when "[Luciana] learns love, [she]’ll practice to obey" her husband. We find it kind of hard to identify with her when she claims that, if she had a cheating husband, she would wait patiently "until he comes home again." It basically sounds like she’s advocating for a doormat model of womanhood that some modern audiences could find pretty difficult to swallow.
So, Act I has this pitched argument between the two sisters, with Adrianna standing for equality of the sexes (at least in marriage) and Luciana arguing for a definite order – men on top, women subservient. Fast forward to Act III, when Luciana finally reappears, and we get to see a second dimension of her character. The man whom she and Adriana have mistaken for Adriana’s husband, (but who is, in fact, S. Antipholus) proposes marriage to Luciana.
So this poor woman, who has confessed to fears of "the marriage bed" but who really wants to get hitched, gets a proposal – from the man she thinks is her brother-in-law. To Luciana’s credit, she doesn’t hesitate for a second to refuse him: "And may it be," she reproaches him, "that you have quite forgot/ A husband’s office?" She scolds him for being so obvious about cheating on Adriana ("Keep it on the down low!" she seems to be arguing). When Antipholus of Syracuse keeps insisting that he loves her, and that he doesn’t owe Adriana a thing, Luciana immediately goes to tell her sister that he’s been trying to hook up with her.
Of course, it's S. Antipholus who proposes to Luciana, not is E. Antipholus who’s married to her sister, so they can finally get engaged when all has been revealed. But here’s the thing about Luciana: that sense of duty to men that she preaches in the first act is still with her in the fifth act. However, it's totally secondary to the responsibility she feels to her sister, which leads her to confess Antipholus’s advances even though she’s really attracted to him. So Luciana may believe wholeheartedly in obedience to her husband, but she’s willing to give up a man’s proposal for the sake of her sister’s happiness. That hierarchy she set up earlier, with man above woman? Well, above that, for Luciana, is family loyalty – and that’s pretty hard not to like, for modern and old-fashioned audiences alike.
The thing is, Luciana’s sister Adriana totally upstages her all the time: Adriana storms onto the scene in Act I mad as hell at her husband for spending all his time with the Courtesan – and, literally, stepping out on her. Adriana has all the best lines: "Why should [men’s] liberty than ours be more?" and (again, on the subject of dutiful women) "There’s none but asses will be bridled so!"
But next to this outspoken lady (dare we say Adriana’s ahead of her time?), there’s meek Luciana, who tries to soothe her sister with the line, "[men] are masters to their females, and their lords" – and fat chance that’s going to work on Adriana’s righteous rage. If Adriana’s an early campaigner for women’s rights, Luciana is out there lobbying for the men, assuring her sister that when "[Luciana] learns love, [she]’ll practice to obey" her husband. We find it kind of hard to identify with her when she claims that, if she had a cheating husband, she would wait patiently "until he comes home again." It basically sounds like she’s advocating for a doormat model of womanhood that some modern audiences could find pretty difficult to swallow.
So, Act I has this pitched argument between the two sisters, with Adrianna standing for equality of the sexes (at least in marriage) and Luciana arguing for a definite order – men on top, women subservient. Fast forward to Act III, when Luciana finally reappears, and we get to see a second dimension of her character. The man whom she and Adriana have mistaken for Adriana’s husband, (but who is, in fact, S. Antipholus) proposes marriage to Luciana.
So this poor woman, who has confessed to fears of "the marriage bed" but who really wants to get hitched, gets a proposal – from the man she thinks is her brother-in-law. To Luciana’s credit, she doesn’t hesitate for a second to refuse him: "And may it be," she reproaches him, "that you have quite forgot/ A husband’s office?" She scolds him for being so obvious about cheating on Adriana ("Keep it on the down low!" she seems to be arguing). When Antipholus of Syracuse keeps insisting that he loves her, and that he doesn’t owe Adriana a thing, Luciana immediately goes to tell her sister that he’s been trying to hook up with her.
Of course, it's S. Antipholus who proposes to Luciana, not is E. Antipholus who’s married to her sister, so they can finally get engaged when all has been revealed. But here’s the thing about Luciana: that sense of duty to men that she preaches in the first act is still with her in the fifth act. However, it's totally secondary to the responsibility she feels to her sister, which leads her to confess Antipholus’s advances even though she’s really attracted to him. So Luciana may believe wholeheartedly in obedience to her husband, but she’s willing to give up a man’s proposal for the sake of her sister’s happiness. That hierarchy she set up earlier, with man above woman? Well, above that, for Luciana, is family loyalty – and that’s pretty hard not to like, for modern and old-fashioned audiences alike.
E aquí temos un dos exemplos sobre a interpretación de Luciana:
Aquí quedou bastante claro as diferenzas entre a que reclama igualdade de dereitos e a que intenta ser fiel aos principios e ás convencións sociais da época, aínda que as dúas teñen igual carácter, cada unha defendendo uns principios distintos. Por se non quedou clara a personaxe de Adriana, aquí deixo a opinión e a análise sobre esta personaxe:
Adriana
Character Analysis
Adriana is E. Antipholus’s wife and Luciana’s sister. She spends much of the play worrying that her husband loves another woman. Adriana is most notable for her observations about a woman’s role in marriage, her lamentations over her lost love, and her obdurate loyalty in the face of what she believes to be adultery.
As a wife, Adriana is not the stereotypical shrewish and nagging woman. In the Plautus play that Shakespeare drew on to write The Comedy of Errors, Adriana’s equivalent character is so known for her shrewishness that she doesn’t even get a name – that alone is enough to characterize her. This stereotypical wife – jealous, possessive, and naggy – was one that Shakespeare’s audience would’ve been used to, so Shakespeare’s decision to turn Adriana into a more fully fleshed out woman (with a name) is significant.
Adriana speaks often in the play, and serves as a balance to her idealistic sister about the very real travails of love and marriage. She worries that her husband has gone wandering in love from her, but she accedes that this might be her own fault. Here, she embodies all the very real concerns of a faithful wife – perhaps she is no longer attractive to her husband, and while he might be at fault for his roving, she still loves him, and would do anything in her power to keep him. She isn’t totally rolled over, though; she says awful things about her husband, but she admits they’re only inspired by her distress over losing him. Adriana definitely knows more about love’s darker side than her sister, Luciana, but it doesn’t detract at all from the depth of love for her husband. Even when she thinks E. Antipholus is both unfaithful and insane, she says she’d like to have him come home because it’s a wife’s duty to take care of her man.
Despite our sympathy, we recognize that Adriana is still shrewish to some extent. When the Abbess talks to Adriana about how she needs to reign in E. Antipholus, Adriana admits that she has taxed her husband’s ear unendingly about his faithlessness. The Abbess catches her here: any man that is so complained against is bound to be unhappy. Though Adriana seems to know a lot about love and marriage, she doesn’t actually know enough to not nag her husband. In general, though, she’s a faithful and loving (even if concerned) wife, and she is one of Shakespeare’s few characters who embodies the real trials of love in marriage. Most of Shakespeare’s comedies end with marriages, but Adriana is a more realistic portrayal of what actually happens after the marriage takes place. Adriana, even in this farcical play, can be seen as Shakespeare’s nod to a difficult reality.
Aquí tamén deixo outra proba do carácter das dúas, como seguramente xa liches no párrafo anterior, non estás de todo namorada do teu home, e tampouco es das máis felices esposas (minutos 4 a 7):
As a wife, Adriana is not the stereotypical shrewish and nagging woman. In the Plautus play that Shakespeare drew on to write The Comedy of Errors, Adriana’s equivalent character is so known for her shrewishness that she doesn’t even get a name – that alone is enough to characterize her. This stereotypical wife – jealous, possessive, and naggy – was one that Shakespeare’s audience would’ve been used to, so Shakespeare’s decision to turn Adriana into a more fully fleshed out woman (with a name) is significant.
Adriana speaks often in the play, and serves as a balance to her idealistic sister about the very real travails of love and marriage. She worries that her husband has gone wandering in love from her, but she accedes that this might be her own fault. Here, she embodies all the very real concerns of a faithful wife – perhaps she is no longer attractive to her husband, and while he might be at fault for his roving, she still loves him, and would do anything in her power to keep him. She isn’t totally rolled over, though; she says awful things about her husband, but she admits they’re only inspired by her distress over losing him. Adriana definitely knows more about love’s darker side than her sister, Luciana, but it doesn’t detract at all from the depth of love for her husband. Even when she thinks E. Antipholus is both unfaithful and insane, she says she’d like to have him come home because it’s a wife’s duty to take care of her man.
Despite our sympathy, we recognize that Adriana is still shrewish to some extent. When the Abbess talks to Adriana about how she needs to reign in E. Antipholus, Adriana admits that she has taxed her husband’s ear unendingly about his faithlessness. The Abbess catches her here: any man that is so complained against is bound to be unhappy. Though Adriana seems to know a lot about love and marriage, she doesn’t actually know enough to not nag her husband. In general, though, she’s a faithful and loving (even if concerned) wife, and she is one of Shakespeare’s few characters who embodies the real trials of love in marriage. Most of Shakespeare’s comedies end with marriages, but Adriana is a more realistic portrayal of what actually happens after the marriage takes place. Adriana, even in this farcical play, can be seen as Shakespeare’s nod to a difficult reality.
Aquí tamén deixo outra proba do carácter das dúas, como seguramente xa liches no párrafo anterior, non estás de todo namorada do teu home, e tampouco es das máis felices esposas (minutos 4 a 7):
Agardo que vos siga entusiasmando, pero coma sempre ESAXERADE!!!!!! ( ma non troppo....)
Apertas
Pablo
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