Juliet's Economy

In the balcony scene of Shakespeare’s most famous love story, Juliet confesses to the dark night her love for the man she’s just met. Little does she know, Romeo is there in the bushes, gazing up at her with heart also blazing. In the scene that follows, the surprised Juliet elaborates a theory of love that has been interpreted for centuries as naïve and idealistic. What happens if we take seriously the model of love articulated by this young girl from Verona? What if love is an economy that operates not on scarcity but on abundance?

Blame teenage insecurity, blame the patriarchy, blame his aching heart still reeling from Rosaline’s refusal, in any case, Romeo’s model of love is grounded in a traditional economy of exchange. He wants to receive and give in equal measure, at an agreed-upon time. Love is trade, and the trade must be fair.

When Juliet tries to leave, saying that this is all happening too fast, Romeo stops her, saying like so many men before and after him: “O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?”

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” asks Juliet

“The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine,” he says.

She laughs at his pedantry: “I gave thee mine before thou didst request it!”

Juliet needed no guarantees before she confessed her love. She required no certainty of exchange. She gave because there was nothing else to do with her overflowing love but give it – to the night sky, to the vision of Romeo she held in her heart, to whoever was listening in the garden.

“And yet I would it were to give again.” She continues.

This worries Romeo: “Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again.” Juliet knows that it isn’t the having or the getting of love that is the most pleasurable, but the giving of it. She wants to give, and give again; reaping repeatedly the pleasure of the gift.

She laughs again (at least in the production in my head): “And yet I wish but for the thing I have.”

There is nothing stopping her from giving her love endlessly. She need not await exchange. She need not play coy with her devotion until she’s received certainty that he will give his back.

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.”

In Juliet’s economy, there is no scarcity. Giving love only generates more.

Parapraxis: through, beside, beyond...

The word "parapraxis" was invented by Sigmund Freud's English translators in the 1930s as a latinate (and therefore official-sounding) replacement for the German term Fehlleistung, which simply means "faulty action." More commonly known as a "Freudian Slip," common parapraxes include slips of the tongue, mistakes in writing, odd moments of forgetfulness, and misplacement of objects. These faulty actions, while accidental, are perhaps not as faulty as they seem, as they can bring to the surface wishes or attitudes previously held secret in the unconscious mind.

Looking at the word from an etymological perspective, its meaning becomes slipperier. The heart of the term invokes the Greek word "praxis," which means practice, action, or simply "doing." The other Greek word for action or deed is slightly more familiar: "drama."

The prefix "para," can mean any number of seemingly contradictory things, including "through," "beside," "beyond," and "contrary to." It is this last meaning Freud's translators had in mind when they coined the term -- as in, "Contrary to my desired action, I said my mother's name in place of my girlfriend's while we were making love."

The other interpretations of "para", however, are equally provocative. Parapraxis interpreted as "through practice" invokes the development that can take place through dedicated, regular training in a specific method: "Through practice, I have gained new insights and abilities."

"Beside practice" makes me ask what else might be needed in addition to the required training: "Beside football practice, players are encouraged to take ballet lessons to increase their agility on the field."

"Beyond practice" implies that there is an edge of action beyond which something else transpires. Thinkers might argue that beyond practice lies its contemplation, or the theory that can arise from it.

As a theatre-director, all of these meanings thrill me. I believe deeply in the power of practice. Doing something regularly and with dedication (through practice), while being open to additional, complementary modes (beside practice), and extrapolating from what you know towards the unknown realms of what you don't yet know (beyond practice) is a potent recipe for growth and change.

But no degree of dedicated practice will keep you from occasional slips!

For me, art-making depends on embracing these slips as essential and exhilarating parts of the process. While embarrassing, parapraxes open doorways to meanings you didn't know you meant. Actors are encouraged to learn to trust their actions and reactions onstage. So too directors can learn to trust both the measured steps of their well-considered choices as well as their accidental responses to the world around them.