厂丑补办别蝉辫别补谤别鈥檚 Pericles bears the stamp of its source, a series of medieval romances by the poet John Gower. Like the typical romance, Pericles dismisses realism in favor of the magic of legend as it follows a youthful prince embarking on a journey to maturity. In the process of discovering his own identity, he will save the world from a destructive force threatening its vitality and be rewarded with a fertile marriage.
But this mythic structure--what Joseph Campbell calls 鈥渢he hero鈥檚 journey鈥濃�攇ives way before the abundance of Pericles. The play defies classification; its episodic content disrupts the safety and reassurance of form. Joseph Haj鈥檚 excellent production, onstage in the Oregon Shakespeare Festival's Thomas Theatre, rides an intriguing paradox: it marshalls a wealth of theatrical elements into a spell-binding story that bursts the conventions of story wide open.
The first two acts explore familiar territory. Pericles arrives in Antioch, intent on winning the hand of a beautiful princess by solving a riddle that has stumped his predecessors. Hero-in-training that he is, Pericles grasps the answer instantly: King Antiochus and his daughter are committing incest, and he, Pericles, would be killed if he spoke that truth. Pursued by the King鈥檚 hit man, Pericles sails to Tarsus, a city suffering terrible famine, and revives this wasteland with a cargo of corn. Sailing on, his ship is wrecked in a tempest, and he鈥檚 cast ashore at Pentapolis, ruled this time by a good king, Simonides. There he participates in a second contest for a princess, Thaisa, and wins her heart.
In Act III, the heroic arc of the play begins to go haywire. Antiochus is dead, so Pericles heads home with the pregnant Thaisa鈥攔ight into a second tempest. In the midst of its violence, Thaisa dies giving birth to the infant Marina, and her body is thrown overboard in a casket. Bereft, Pericles leaves his child in Tarsus to be raised鈥攊ts rulers do owe him a favor, after all. The action then fast-forwards fourteen years to track Marina, whose loveliness has moved the jealous queen to plot her murder. Marina is 鈥渟aved鈥� from death by a sudden assault by pirates, then shipped to Mytilene and sold into a brothel. Tapping her own heroic power, she manages to convert her clients to chastity, including the governor himself. Meanwhile, Pericles is told of Marina鈥檚 death, and even more bereft, he cuts his ship adrift on the sea. Several miracles later, three poignant moments of recognition and reunion close the play.
A powerful ensemble of actors, most taking multiple roles, ground these fantastic events in highly specific characters. The superb Wayne T. Carr nails three variations on Pericles鈥攖he ingenuous youth, the weary adult, and the old man resigned to anguish. Scott Ripley morphs brilliantly from the severe and toxic Antiochus to his antithesis鈥攖he kindly, professorial Simonides, who recognizes Pericles鈥檚 essential goodness as quickly as Pericles guessed Antiochus鈥檚 viciousness. Following the day鈥檚 contests, this good king urges his daughter Thaisa (the endearing Brooke Parks鈥攁 minute ago, the narcissistic queen of Tarsus) to engage Pericles in delectably awkward conversation. Then Pericles鈥檚 reluctance to dance inspires a poignant bit of business--Simonides coaches the young man through a few steps on the sidelines鈥攚hich adds a special sweetness to his praising the bumbling Pericles as 鈥渕usic鈥檚 master.鈥�
Double-casting throws ironic light on the brothel scenes, where Jennie Greenberry, once the incestuous, anonymous, robotic daughter of Antiochus, becomes the pure but feisty Marina. Michael Hume shuttles between the upright Helicanus, pillar of Tyre, and the Bawd in padded bustier, tottering around in platform heels, while Ripley is reincarnated as his or her stoner husband.
Speaking of reincarnation, this unique play is held together by the emergence 鈥渇rom ashes鈥� of 厂丑补办别蝉辫别补谤别鈥檚 鈥渁ncient鈥� source Gower, who is handed the task of narrator. He introduces each new phase of the action, smoothing out the jolts in time and space. Played by Armando Duran with an equanimity both comforting and eerie, Gower seems oblivious to the grim details of his story鈥攈e introduces contaminated Antioch, ringed with severed heads, then asks us to 鈥渂anish fleeting worry鈥�; similarly, he commends to our content the scene of Marina鈥檚 near murder
He is also indifferent to suspense, repeatedly revealing the outcomes of scenes before we witness them. He moves us from the genre of romance into the lighter comedy of requited love then into the dark satire of the brothel, never wavering from his kindly, even tone. For Gower is a spirit, above it all, speaking from the same larger perspective evoked by the Jan Chambers鈥檚 spare, elemental set, and the flow of Francesca Talenti鈥檚 projections, in which swirling stars and galaxies alternate with a turbulent sea. From this perspective beyond time and space, tempests spell both death and birth, and the vicissitudes of one individual鈥檚 journey are mere blips on the cosmic screen.
Gower鈥檚 function expands over the course of the play from travel guide to teacher and also healer. His story will be 鈥渞estorative鈥� if we follow his directions to open our creative imaginations and empathize with the fear and joy and suffering we witness. In other words, the real journey of the play is our own.
This late play takes us to a place where tidy stories with their happy, conventional endings melt away. Life is as changeable and ruthlessly chaotic as the sea. Bad things happen to good people, and the only viable response is patience, a surrender of the self, and a detachment from outcomes. Pericles finds his heart鈥檚 desire after he gives up on it, suspended several feet off the earth, and tuned to the music of the spheres.
