Fool
King Lear is one of literature鈥檚 most famous tragedies. Author Christopher Moore doesn鈥檛 do tragedies. His work tends to be more, well ... silly. Goofball. Zany. The antithesis of all that is heavy and deep. He鈥檚 written 11 books, and although they鈥檝e covered a wide spectrum of subjects 鈥� vampires, angels, whales, death, demons, Jesus, and even a sequined nun 鈥� there is a common thread running through all of them: They鈥檙e funny.
So funny that if you鈥檙e reading one on the bus and let out a great noisy honk of laughter, you don鈥檛 even care that all the other passengers stare at you.. (Not that this has ever happened to me, of course.)
So Shakespeare purists may be leery of Fool, Moore鈥檚 latest novel, which is a retelling of the King Lear story. And to them, I say: You should be. You may well dislike this book. But then you will be out of step with almost everyone else.
After all, it鈥檚 hard to resist so gleeful a tale of murder, witchcraft, treason, maiming, and spanking. Oh, and there鈥檚 a ghost, too.
The fool in question is Pocket, a bite-sized jester in the court of Lear, the aged king of a mythical 13th-century Britain. Pocket is a favorite of Lear, and also of Lear鈥檚 three beautiful and cunning daughters, the princesses Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia.
Treachery is afoot in Lear鈥檚 castle when the old man decides to divide his kingdom among his daughters and their husbands. When Cordelia refuses to flatter her father with false praise, as do her sisters, Lear becomes outraged and disowns her. In the ensuing melee, he also banishes his oldest and truest friend, the Earl of Kent.
Pocket and his apprentice fool, Drool, get swept up in the chaos as the king descends into impotent madness and the kingdom into war. With Pocket鈥檚 help, Kent hides in Lear鈥檚 train in disguise; while Edmund, bastard son of the Duke of Gloucester, plots to usurp the position of his elder brother Edgar, the Duke鈥檚 legitimate son. At the same time, Goneril and Regan scheme to get rid of their father聽 鈥� and each other 鈥� once and for all.
Cordelia marries the Prince of France and begins amassing an army to challenge her sisters. A trio of witches named Parsley, Rosemary, and Thyme (naturally) begin to magically meddle in everyone鈥檚 plans.
And the ghost? She pops up all over the place, delivering cryptic messages in iambic pentameter (鈥淐an鈥檛 a bloke find a straightforward prose apparition?鈥� asks a frustrated Pocket.) In the end, the kingdom is overthrown and many people are either dead or mutilated.
It鈥檚 a lot funnier than it sounds.
That鈥檚 mostly because Moore didn鈥檛 set out to write a tribute to Shakespeare so much as a tribute to British comedy. In an author鈥檚 note at the end of the book, Moore explains that he鈥檚 a fan of British humorists like Douglas Adams, Tom Stoppard, Nick Hornby, and Mil Millington. He credits them with inspiring his 鈥減lunge into the deep end of their art.鈥�
His success in doing so seems to stem from his ability to keep the goal firmly in sight while at the same time recognizing his limitations.
For example, the historical record of the real Lear is so knotty that it confounded even Shakespeare. And the geography for the events associated with Lear is even more confusing.
Moore gets around this by setting his story in a pseudo-Britain sometime in a make-believe Middle Ages. The characters鈥� language is a mix of modern British slang (Moore鈥檚 footnote definitions for which are snort-inducing), Elizabethan prose, and standard Americanisms.
Everything is unyieldingly anachronistic, which is precisely why it all works.
But if all the screwball aspects seem potentially tiresome, they鈥檙e balanced by the humanity of the characters.
Pocket is a rascal, to be sure, but his charm is so great that you can鈥檛 help rooting for him. Lear is both deeply sympathetic and maddening; at times, like Pocket, you鈥檒l wish he鈥檇 just shut up and stop whining.
Even the more ruthless characters (which include most of the cast) are always relatable. And Moore鈥檚 deft ear for dialogue keeps the pages turning even at times when the action begins to slow.
For those who enjoy a bit of knave in their tragedy, 鈥淔ool鈥� is a wickedly good time.
Kathryn Perry is a Monitor intern.
