Shakespeare: The Histories
The English history plays in the order of the kings they cover, from John to Henry VIII, not the order Shakespeare wrote them.
- You get a politically slippery Shakespeare, full of wavering loyalties, church pressure, and the Bastard Faulconbridge’s sharp, surprisingly modern commentary. It can feel episodic, but Constance’s fierce grief and the play’s uneasy question of who deserves a crown give it a darker charge than its neglected reputation suggests.
- You get a rough, episodic history play with flashes of Shakespearean energy, especially in Edward’s pursuit of the Countess of Salisbury and the Black Prince’s battlefield speeches. It’s uneven and not wholly Shakespeare’s, but the mix of courtly temptation, war, and sudden moral seriousness makes it an intriguing afternoon read.
- Richard is unbearable while he's winning and mesmerizing once he starts to lose, talking himself into and out of kingship in some of the most musical verse Shakespeare wrote. It's all poetry and no sword fights, so come for the language or not at all.
- Falstaff alone is worth it, this huge lying coward who somehow makes you love him, and watching Prince Hal drink with him while quietly planning to outgrow him gets under your skin. Funnier than you expect from a history play, and sadder too.
- You get a more reflective, melancholy Shakespeare here, with Hal facing the weight of kingship while Falstaff turns swagger and self-pity into something unexpectedly sad. The play moves more slowly than Part I, but its weary humor and sense of a country trying to recover linger.
- Read it for the night before Agincourt, when Hal walks disguised among his soldiers and gets argued with about whether his war is even just. The big speeches soar, sure, but the quiet doubts underneath are what stick, and the Chorus keeps apologizing that a stage can't hold it all.
- You get Talbot’s stern, oddly moving devotion to England, Joan of Arc rendered as both formidable and unsettling, and a kingdom already fraying under proud nobles and a weak king. It’s episodic and politically blunt, but the clash between heroic legend and ugly factionalism gives the play real bite.
- Honestly the middle Henry VI is the fun one: court schemers picking apart poor Duke Humphrey while the king prays instead of ruling, then Jack Cade's rebellion turns the whole thing into gleeful anarchy. If you like watching power slip through weak hands, this scratches that itch.
- Grim, relentless, and worth it for watching Richard of Gloucester wake up mid-play and decide to be a villain, in a soliloquy that basically births Richard III. If battle-heavy history isn't your thing, skip it, but Margaret taunting York with a paper crown is genuinely chilling.
- Richard talks straight to you from the first speech, so you end up half rooting for a murderer and enjoying it, especially when he woos Anne over her father-in-law's coffin. If you like villains who make you complicit, this moves fast and never apologizes.
- You’ll like it for its grand, ceremonial feel and the sharp human cost beneath the pageantry, especially in Katherine of Aragon’s dignity and Wolsey’s sudden collapse. It’s episodic and more interested in public power than intimate character, so expect a stately history play rather than another Hamlet.