A Midsummer Night’s Dream was the first Shakespeare play I ever saw and the first Shakespeare play I ever read. When I was six, I attended a summer camp where I dressed up in a fairy costume and sang Titania’s lullaby. I’ve seen at least five productions of the play, but until last month, when I saw Shakespeare & Company’s Northeast Regional Tour of Shakespeare production of Midsummer, I had never paid much attention to Hippolyta. In act 1, scene 1, she usually stands to the side while Theseus explains the ancient law of Athens, and I wait for the action to pick up.
Shakespeare & Company’s touring production opened with a ritualized fight scene. Hippolyta and Theseus, played by Brittany Morgan and Jordan Jones, circled each other as the chorus beat out a rhythm with wooden sticks. As the chorus continued to drum, the two actors began a stylized fight, Morgan’s Hippolyta matching Jones’ Theseus blow for blow. When Theseus knocked the weapon out of Hippolyta’s hands, she leaped at him and he caught her around the waist. Then, as the lighting changed, their eyes met. The actors stepped apart, and, after a brief on-stage costume change, act 1 of Shakespeare’s play began.
I was riveted.
If you pick up a copy of Midsummer, you won’t find the stage direction a fight italicized at the top of act 1. But it’s also true that the opening of Shakespeare & Company’s production remained grounded in the text, dramatizing Theseus’ lines 16-17: “Hippolyta, I wooed thee with my sword, / And won thy love doing thee injuries.”
In Greek myth, the Amazonian Queen Hippolyta married the Greek Theseus after he defeated her in battle. Theseus’ opening speech to Hippolyta sexualizes violence in a way that often makes modern audiences uncomfortable — ‘I wooed thee with my sword?’ Is that phallic? What does it mean? — and so perhaps it’s not surprising that, in many, productions, actors glide past them. Yet these problematic lines are the first to hint at Hippolyta’s identity, and the next hint doesn’t come until Titania and Oberon’s quarrel in act 2, scene 1 when, in lines 70-71, Titania refers to Hippolyta as “… the bouncing Amazon, / Your buskined mistress and your warrior love.”
By opening the play with a slightly abstract representation of battle, the production chose to emphasize Hippolyta and Theseus’ history as adversaries in war and refused to minimize the more troubling aspects of their relationship.
What Say You, Hermia?
The Shakespeare & Company production ran about an hour and a half without intermission, a time limit that had necessitated significant cuts to the script. The alteration that stuck out to me the most, however, was not a cut line, but a reassigned one.
In every other version of Midsummer that I’ve seen or read, Hippolyta has only five lines in scene 1. Though she remains onstage until line 127, when Hermia and Lysander are left alone, Hippolyta doesn’t speak after Egeus, Demetrius, Hermia, and Lysander enter to plead their cases to Theseus.
In Shakespeare & Company’s production, when Egeus and the lovers entered, Theseus moved downstage to speak with them. Throughout lines 41-45, Hippolyta remained slightly upstage, listening to Egeus demand that Theseus grant him “…the ancient privilege of Athens; / As she is mine, I may dispose of her; / Which shall be either to this gentleman / Or to her death…”
At the end of Egeus’ speech, Morgan’s Hippolyta suddenly crossed downstage to Hermia and spoke line 46, Theseus’ line: “What say you, Hermia?”
Reassigning Theseus’ line to Hippolyta transforms a gesture of paternal goodwill into a female challenge to patriarchal power. Like the opening fight scene, the reassigned line gave Morgan’s Hippolyta greater agency than many productions grant her. It was a strong choice, and an effective one, but I have to question if it was appropriate to make a choice that so clearly goes against the text.
If altering the text were the only way to portray Hippolyta as an active character, then I would say that she isn’t intended to be active. However, as the opening fight scene and Morgan’s strong physicality throughout the show demonstrated, Hippolyta’s agency can be conveyed non-verbally without altering the text. Since this is the case, the reassigning the line is unnecessary. While the opening fight was not included in the text, it grew out of events referred to in the text. Reassigning Theseus’ line to Hippolyta is, in my eyes, not an outgrowth but a distortion of the text.
However, both of these unconventional choices prompted me to reexamine Hippolyta’s role in Midsummer. In the talk-back after the performance, Morgan explained that, in adding the opening fight scene, the company had hoped to give the audience a better understanding of who Hippolyta is and what role she serves throughout the play.
Remembering to Listen
I realized that I had previously thought of Hippolyta, when I thought of her at all, an unimportant character present only as Theseus’ wife and Titania’s human counterpart. Too often, in minimizing or failing to address the uncomfortable details of Theseus and Hippolyta’s courtship, productions ignore Hippolyta’s rich mythological history.
Shakespeare & Company’s presentation of Hippolyta made me rethink how I read Midsummer. I also realized just how easy it is, when watching or reading something familiar, to stop paying attention to it, and I’m very grateful to this production for reminding me to sit up and listen.