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Based on the Roman chronicles of Plutarch's Lives and Livy's History of Rome, the play is set in the early years of the Roman Republic. Its famous opening scene, particularly admired by Bertolt Brecht, portrays its citizens as starving and rebellious, and horrified by the arrogant and dismissive attitude of Caius Marcius, one of Rome's most valiant but also political naive soldiers. Spurred on by his ambitious mother Volumnia, Caius takes the city of Corioles, is renamed Coriolanus in honour of his victory, and is encouraged to run for senate. However, his contempt for the citizens, who he calls "scabs" and "musty superfluity" ultimately leads to his exile and destructive alliance with his deadly foe, Aufidius. Despite its relative unpopularity, Coriolanus is a fascinating study of both public and personal life. Its language is dense and complex, as its representation of the tensions built into the fabric of Roman political life. Yet it also contains extraordinarily intimate scenes between Coriolanus and both his mother, who ultimately proves "most mortal" to her own son, and his enemy Aufidius, whose "rapt heart" is happier to see Coriolanus than his own wife. One of Shakespeare's darker and more disturbing plays. --Jerry Brotton
202 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1608
My rage is gone,I liked it and would recommend it because it's a short Shakespeare story. It was turned into a movie in 2011 starring Ralph Fiennes and Gerard Butler. I would recommend both. Thanks!
And I am struck with sorrow.
- Tullus Aufidius, Act 5, Scene 6
There are many gods, and when we organize and rank them we go too far, we ask too much of them.
- "Women and Men", Joseph McElroy
Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich, and provide more piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us.
I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in't...one that converses more with the buttock of the night than with the forehead of the morning: what I think I utter, and spend my malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as you are--I cannot call you Lycurguses--if the drink you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face at it...and though I must be content to bear with those that say you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that tell you you have good faces.
"This peace is nothing but to rust iron, increase tailors and breed ballad-makers."