Chickens--WDSS (What Does Shakespeare Say?)

Some of the most vexing questions in life involve chickens. Which came first—the chicken or the egg? Why did the chicken cross the road? In a recent blog, “Fowl question—Chicken or Cock?” I address another perplexing question—why does English have two words for the domestic fowl, “chicken” and “cock”? To add some perspective to these questions, I have posed another: What Does Shakespeare Say About Chickens?

Contrary to popular belief, Shakespeare did not write in “Old English” but instead wrote in Early Modern English—the same English that we speak today, although the language has continued to evolve. When Shakespeare was writing, French was waning as an influence on English. It makes sense that Shakespeare uses “cock” more than he uses “chicken” in his works, according to entries in Alexander Schmidt’s “Shakespeare Lexicon and Quotation Dictionary,” because “cock” evolved in the English and French traditions and “chicken” in the Germanic tradition.

Many of the usages of “cock” in Shakespeare’s works involve their alarm clock function, crowing cocks. In “Hamlet,” the crowing of the cock sends the Ghost of Hamlet’s Father away. In “The Tempest,” Sebastian describes the rather verbose Gonzalo as “The old cock” and his prattling as “crowing.” In “Two Gentlemen of Verona,” Speed tells Valentine that he can tell when Valentine is in love because [you are] wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock.” In “The Taming of the Shrew,” Petruchio and Kate have the following conversation early in his attempt to woo Kate:

Kate: What is your crest? A coxcomb? (fool’s hat)

Petruchio: A combless cock (gentle rooster), so Kate will be my hen.

Kate: No cock of mine; you crow too like a craven. (a chicken chicken, that is one who will not fight)

Shakespeare makes very few references to chickens, and most of those are metaphoric. In Sonnet 143, he employs a simile of housewife leaving her child aside in order to chase an errant chicken to evoke the feeling of neglect that an ignored lover might feel. Near the end of “Macbeth,” MacDuff, after receiving the news that his wife and children have been slaughtered, utters in disbelief, “What, all my pretty chickens and their dam/ At one fell swoop?”

As the consummate artist, Shakespeare even addresses both the chicken and the egg in one fell swoop. When Pandarus and Cressida discuss whether Troilus loves Helen of Troy, Pandarus asserts, “Troilus? Why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle [spoiled] egg.” Cressida replies, “If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens in the shell.”

As a lover of chickens, especially rubber chickens, I would be remiss not to mention Chaucer’s Nun’s Priest’s Tale.  This tale, widely acclaimed as perhaps the most artful one in the Canterbury Tales, has chickens in major roles, although I must also admit the tale includes reports of some smoking chicken sex. However, in the interest of family-friendliness, I will say no more about Chanticleer’s conjugal life with his many chicken wives.

In closing, I will leave you with a little chicken trivia. The first known appearance of the chicken crossing the road joke goes back to “The Knickerbocker” (The New York Monthly) magazine in March, 1847. Also, Harvard physicist David Morin imagines how famous physicists might answer the question. Finally, an anonymous site offers answers that famous philosophically minded characters—both real and fictional--might provide to the question. Hamlet offers my favorite: “That is not the question.”

Be-Booked--Don't forget to bring a chicken!

At the end of June, I took a side trip from exploring words in Be-Worded to exploring books in Be-Booked. (See “Be-Booked—Beyond Katrina” 30 June 2013.) In this blog entry, I will make another foray into the land of Be-Booked.

From the time I learned to read, I have been a voracious reader.  Somewhere in the clutter of my home, I have a certificate from 2^nd grade testifying that I read an enormous number of books during that school year.  I hold dear that proud car trip home from the public library during which I read all of the books I had checked out—a reading rite of passage, graduating from children’s literature to young adult literature.  During a spat with my best friend Charlene during high school, she accused me of using too many big words (because I read all of the time).

One book that I still hold dear to me--and the only one I still possess from my childhood—is Eleanor Cameron’s The Wonderful Flight to the Mushroom Planet.  My parents bought it as part of one of many Scholastic Book orders in my 6^th grade year—1968. The cover price is 50 cents. I have kept the brittle book in a plastic zipper baggie for many years now.

Originally copyrighted in 1954, the book presents a stereotypical family where Dad, a medical doctor, goes to work and Mom keeps house.  Young David, an only child, discovers an ad in the newspaper one bored night:  “Wanted: A small spaceship about eight feet long, built by a boy, or by two boys, between the ages of eight and eleven.”  The ad gives further details regarding specs and contact information.  Of course, young David is immediately enthralled.  Dad takes an adamantly skeptical attitude while Mom gently encourages young David to follow his dream.

David enlists the help of his best friend, Chuck.  They make contact with Mr. Bass, who needs a spaceship and boys to fly to his home planet, the Mushroom Planet, and save his people, the Mushroom People, from some strange plague which is killing their race.  At the last moment before David and Chuck blast off, Mr. Bass informs them that it is imperative that they take a mascot.  The frantic boys grab Mrs. Pennyfeather, a hapless hen.  I will not reveal the finer details, but Mrs. Pennyfeather comes through in true chicken form and saves the Mushroom People without sacrificing her chicken self to a deep fat fryer.

This book represents imagination and hopes and dreams and making the best with what you have at hand.  I will end this blog entry with the literary lesson:  Wherever you go in life, do not forget to bring a chicken.