Wednesday 27 February 2013

Artistic Licencing of characters from Infinity Ward's 'Call of Duty Modern Warfare'

Back in 2010, I was amongst the millions that were hooked on the Modern Warfare series. I fell in love with two characters in particluar, Soap MacTavish and Captain Price. I took it upon myself to write a short story about ione of their kunckle biting acts of bravery (or stupidity).

I, in no way, claim rights to the characters portrayed in this story as they were created by the fine people of Infinity Ward. However, the story is my own creation and was used as part of my creative writing for my English GCSE in 2010.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.




 “Operation Anchorage”

 

Training, somewhere in the Black Mountains, Wales, 16th March 2008, 1400hrs:

The valley was a thing of beauty; trees dotted here and there, neither too sparse nor dense; the grass was a luscious, inviting meal for the grazing cows; a lonely, rundown building to the west of the valley begging for someone to take care of it and the river that ran straight through from east to west was crystal clear. It was perfect.

The valley truly was a thing of beauty. Trees dotted here and there, neither too sparse nor dense were perfect cover for a sniper and his spotter.  The grass was a luscious, inviting meal for the grazing cows: a good sniper would be able to move among the cows without spooking them. A lonely, rundown building to the west of the valley would provide enough cover to hide a muzzle flash and the river that ran from east to west would throw the scent of a hunting dog. It truly was perfect.

 

“Four hostiles approaching from the south ridge of the valley, three with silenced Semi-Automatics and one with an M110 Semi-Automatic.” My instructor whispered.

“Range it,” I replied in the same calm, whispered tone. Sergeant Bagshaw, a well renowned sniper instructor in the British Army, consulted his mock scale drawing of the valley and ranged the advancing men in a matter of seconds and whispered the distance.

 “The enemy is at six hundred and forty-three yards and closing. Adjust two clicks and fire when ready.”

 

I adjusted my scope, two clicks. Click. Click. At this range the bullet will be in flight for two seconds which means I must aim a foot above the target and four and a half foot to the left to counteract the westerly wind. My hand was steady and my eyes fixed on the target. I pulled back the bolt of my rifle and steadied my breathing.

 

Helmand Province, Afghanistan, 3rd March 2009, 0900hrs:

 

I heard the voice of my instructor in my head, “Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, and breathe in. Hold. Fire. Breathe out.”

 

I fired the rifle, straight and true through the scorching heat. A few seconds later I heard my spotter shout to the platoon waiting behind me, “Sniper down!” Price shouted and ordered the platoon to advance.

 

“Well done Captain. Welcome to Afghanistan.”

 

Passing out assembly, Pirbright, England, 28th February 2009:

 

I had a natural instinct for warfare. It was in my blood, my father was in the Regiment, his father before him and his father before him. I was trained as a combat engineer in the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers; I have helped build air bases in Cyprus; destroyed integral bridges in Iraq and built command outposts in Afghanistan. Two medals to recognise my tour of duties in Iraq and Afghanistan take residence on my left breast of my twos, which is military talk for smarts, eleven other soldiers, most of them from Infantry and highly decorated, and I had been summoned to a meeting with Brigadier Miller.

 

“Attention!” Sergeant Bagshaw barked as Brig. Miller entered the small, stuffy room with such power and authority.

 

“Good morning gentlemen. As some of you may or may not know, you have been asked for your attendance to this meeting room for one reason and one reason only. Each and every man in this room has been hand selected to train as a sniper for the British Army. However, only six of you will become the shooter. The other six will become his spotter.” Miller spoke with charisma as the twelve soldiers groaned with disappointment.

 

“Don’t look so disappointed, gentlemen, the spotter is the most important tool at hand to the sniper. From this day forward, you will be known as Viper Squad. As some of you may have heard, you are no longer required to wear your uniform at all times, you will no longer be required to be well kempt and you will under no circumstances answer to anyone but Sergeant Bagshaw or myself. Is that understood?”  Miller questioned.

 

Viper squad yelled with honour, “Sir, yes Sir!”

 

“Good. I will see you all bright eyed and bushy tailed and oh-five-hundred. Dismissed.” Miller ordered.

 

If I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to become a sniper, I was perfectly happy blowing things up for a living. Passing out was no more than Sergeant Bagshaw throwing sharpshooter badges out to us in the meeting room and congratulating us on completing our training, but I was told that I come top of my class in all aspects of sniper training and was told to wait around after everyone had left.

 

“Sergeant, a word please,” Brig. Miller asked.

“First of all, let me congratulate you on your outstanding performance in your training. You really are a true soldier. Secondly, I would like to make you a proposal, one that is of great importance to me and indeed the British Army,” Miller paused, looking right into my eyes.

“I need you to fly out to Afghanistan, tonight. Operation Anchorage is a week away from starting its push on a main Helmond Province compound, a regular meeting for important Taliban leaders. Your combined skill and knowledge of explosives and sharpshooting can turn the tide of this operation in our favour,” Miller explained passionately.

 

“I’ll do it. Whatever you need, I’ll do it,” I said with calmed excitement.

 

“Splendid. We fly at twenty-one-hundred hours. Now go and pack your things and say your goodbyes,” Miller said with great enthusiasm and relief.

 

“Sir,” I acknowledged him as I saluted, turned and started toward the door. Miller stopped me before I reached for the handle.

 

“Oh, by the way, you’ll be addressed as Captain now. Here’s your badge. That comes with a nice pay bonus as well. You’ve earned it, Captain,” Brig. Miller chuckled.

 

“Yes Sir, thank you Sir”, I replied, trying hard not to jump for joy. I walked out the room, closed the door behind me and punched the air and jumped up and shouted, “YES!”  A few heads poked out of various different rooms in confusion as to what was making the racket out in the hallway. Brig. Miller also came out into the hall, chuckling again as he saw me jump up and down like a little school boy who’d just been picked for the school football team. I looked around and realised my infamy among the other officers looking down on me as though I had disgusted them and sheepishly hurried myself to my barracks.

 

Packed and ready to go I was sitting on my Bergen at the helipad, waiting for my ride to Helmand Province. I would’ve phoned my Mum, Dad, girlfriend or wife to say goodbye, but the truth is, I had and have no one. I was passed from foster parent to foster parent and back to the home again. When I was legally old enough to join the Army I did. No goodbyes, no tears, no regrets. The Army is my life and my family.

 

“Ready, Captain?” Brig. Miller shouted loud enough to be heard over the rotas of the approaching helicopter. I nodded with determination, not wanting to strain my voice trying to shout loud enough so Miller could hear me. Brigadier Miller, Captain Price and I climbed aboard our transport to the Hercules, in Norfolk, where we were then flown to Kandahar Airbase and then onto the unknown location of Helmand Province.

 

Helmand Province, Afghanistan, 2nd March 2009, 0500hrs:

 

As soon as we arrived at the forward command post for Operation Anchorage, I was ushered into the War Room… the War Room! I’d never been allowed within a hundred yards of the War Room until now. Well, I suppose I have my recent promotion to Captain to thank for that. I was suddenly relied upon to have input into the execution of this vital operation and I didn’t know the first thing about what went on in the War Room. Wow! I am actually somewhat of an importance to the British Ar…

 

“Captain, what’s the ‘sit. rep.’ with your guys?” questioned an Officer I’d never seen before, looking war torn and tired. His right cheek had recently been stitched from what looked like shrapnel, considering the size and severity of the wound; his hair was grey and short, covered in the Afghani dust that envelopes every nook and cranny in this hell the natives call home; his eyes were laden with dark circles, which told a tale of sleepless nights and a life of dust and blood.

 

My curiosity and ignorance of how to act in the War Room didn’t fail to show that I was a rookie. I was willing myself to come up with something smart and or witty to redeem myself from the embarrassment of not listening to the obviously highly decorated and respected Officer. But all I could muster was, “Er…” I cleared my throat, “I haven’t had chance to speak with my platoon yet, Sir. I have only just arrived in Afghanistan. I’ll get up to speed ASAP,” I replied trying to sound promising and authoritative.

 

“No need Captain, I’ll get you up to speed myself. Go and get yourself unpacked and ready for a briefing in twenty minutes.” He said this without looking up from the various different maps of oil pipelines and terrain. I stood there, phased out again, in my own little world thinking about what secrets these walls were hiding but could never be broken to tell.

 

“That’s an order, Captain!” The Officer bellowed with impatience. His booming American voice brought me right back to reality and I took to the heel and quick marched out of the War Room. Captain Price followed me out and put his hand on my shoulder - a signal for me to stop and turn around. He held out an extended arm and smiled. I shook his hand and he introduced himself,

 

“Heard lot about ya, Captain. Nice to meet ya, call me Price. I’ll be ya wingman in this op.”

 

“Nice to meet you Price, I’m McTavish, call me Soap.” I returned the introduction.

 

“Soap? What kind ‘a name’s that?” he replied as he let out a short, sharp laugh.

 

“Don’t ask. What regiment are you from?” I questioned as I scanned for regimental colours in his not-so-conventional uniform.

 

“22nd SAS, mate”, he whispered with pride. “Tell anyone though and I’ll ‘ave to kill ya.”

 

I looked at him with disbelief and amazement. I was speechless. He laughed and patted me on the back and said, “One day, mate. One day. Ya never know, prove ya worth out ‘ere and I might even put in a good word for ya. See ya on the field, mate,” he shouted as he waltzed back into the War Room.

 

Helmand Province, Afghanistan, 3rd March 2009, 0910hrs:

 

My first shot against the enemy since arriving in Helmand seemed to trigger Chinese Whispers among the guys. By the time word had got back round to me it was, “Hey, dude. Have you heard? One of our guys took out an enemy sniper from a mile and a half away and he’s had twenty six confirmed kills to his name. He’s only been here a week!” An over-excited Rifle’s soldier exaggerated my first successful kill of this tour as he realised by my expression and a bit of prompting from Price that I was the ‘Godly Sniper’.

 

The young soldier suddenly stopped, slung his rifle of his shoulder and saluted. “Is it true, have you killed all those enemy personnel?” He asked as though in awe.

 

“Don’t believe everything you hear, kid.” I said, shattering his dreams of a God-like figure that he worshipped. The young soldier looked confused and embarrassed as he realised that what he had said was not all as true, as he was hoping. He made his excuses and rushed off to join the other guys that were advancing to the target compound on Price’s orders.

 

“C’mon, Soap. We can’t stand around sharing bedtime stories all day. We gotta job to do,” Price said as he got his gear together. “Oh, by the way, we’re not following them. We got more important things to worry ‘bout. Follow me,” he ordered hastily.

 

Very confused, I followed Price as we made our way as stealthily as possible through Afghanistan’s back alleys. Doors and shutters were slammed shut and locked as we ran past. We covered each angle by looking down the sights on the barrel of our weapons. I was surprised that we didn’t run into any hostiles, but Price was quick to explain that this was a NATO friendly village; they were just scared of people with guns.

 

After working our way through the maze, we came to a hill with clusters of rocks and dead trees that overlooked the whole town, including the target compound. Price stopped and crouched at the foot of the hill, “We’re ‘ere. Follow my lead,” he whispered and started to climb the hill at incredible speed. I followed and tried to match his pace but was slightly slower due to my size. Price looked back and laughed as he shouted in a whispered voice, “C’mon ya big Triffid, climb faster.”

 

Finally, we got to our designated position and Price called it in, “Viper one in position.”

 

“Viper one, Alpha squad is ready on your go,” replied a voice over the radio.

 

The operation was to take hold of an integral compound and known bomb factory in this district. The top brass had received information about a meeting with some of the most influential Taliban leaders and it was my job to make sure no one was to get out alive. The position Price and I were in had a perfect view of the meeting place; it overlooked the whole compound. The terrace was laid out with fine silk cloth, silver cutlery and china plates. There was a huge bowl in the middle of the table brimming with exotic fruit, some of which I had never even seen before. The leaders were evidently having a formal meal and the servants had done a good job to make it look adequately presentable.

 

“Show time,” Price whispered, excitement licking the air around us. “Range is fifteen hundred yards and three clicks.” Price ranged the targets that were now all sat around the table talking, laughing and joking, oblivious to their impending deaths. I loaded my rifle and adjusted the scope three clicks. Click. Click. Click. Price whispered, “Fire on my go.”

 

“Alpha squad, targets are in position. Repeat, the targets are in position, standby,” I ordered with a tinge of excitement in my voice.

 

There was a sudden eerie silence; the bustling villagers over to the west had disappeared; the children had stopped playing and had been told to come inside by parents; even the local, stray dogs were nowhere to be seen. Something was wrong and I didn’t like it one bit, neither did Price. We both looked at each other with the same concerned look. All of a sudden, there was a blinding white flash and a deafening high pitched noise. Pain seared across the back of my head and then everything went black.

 

Somewhere Unknown, Time and Date Unknown:

 

“Soap, Soap, y’live?” whispered Price. I could hear his voice but I couldn’t see him. There was a bag over my head. My hands and torso were bound to a very old and unstable wooden chair. Price tried to struggle out of the ropes which also bound his hands and torso but was unsuccessful and just caused me discomfort because we were tied together.

 

I came to my senses but could barely grasp my surroundings and groaned, “Yeah, I’m alive. What the hell happened?”

 

The door to the dimly lit and dusty room was slammed open and at least four men marched in. I could tell there were four because of the sound of their military issue boots, and their stinking, sweaty bodies that created an overpowering odour. A man shouted to the other guys in an Arabic dialect I was unfamiliar with and we were both abruptly hauled to our feet and given a good kicking before we were frog marched to an outside area. I could tell we were outside because the light pinpricked through the material of the bag, which was probably used for potatoes due to its mouldy, starchy pong.

 

I was standing shoulder to shoulder with Price not knowing what the hell was going on. Just then, Arabic orders were shouted and a dozen Russian made Kalashnikovs were loaded simultaneously. A sound no man or woman wants to hear, especially when standing there with a bag over your head and all you can think of is never seeing the light of day again.

 

All of a sudden, the Arabic man ordered his men to fire on his order. Not in Arabic, but English. Maybe it was to taunt us, impeding our death by firing squad. He wasn’t an English man but he spoke very good English, he probably studied it at university. He walked towards us both and put his head between our heads and spoke with calm and calculated words, “Now, my friends, you will be made an example of for your treachery towards God. Do you have any last words?”

 

I held my tongue, in an attempt give myself some more time to think but Price had other ideas.

 

“Yeah, I do. I just wanna say ….”

 

That’s all I heard. Price had whispered what turned out to be his last words to our captor. I don’t know what Price said to the man but it sure did the trick to get us killed quicker. My heart raced. I knew we were about to die and had no chance of lenience because of what Price had just said. I was scared now, really scared but I stood brave and said to Price,

 

“See you on the other si…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. The gun-wielding men opened fire and a white hot, searing pain pierced my skin and everything went black.

 

London, England, 11th March 2009:

 

Beep… Beep… Beep…

 

The gentle monotonous rhythm of the life support machine played its song in harmony with the percussion of the breathing apparatus that was keeping Soap McTavish alive. From the bed next to him came a familiar, brash yet comforting voice that desperately sought a response to its question.

 

 “Soap, Soap, can ya ‘ear me, mate?”

My essay from 2010/11 on an English GCSE resit - "Consider why Romeo and Juliet died in the play. Who was to blame for what happened to the lovers? Were they responsible at all for what happened?"

Before you get stuck in, if you take 10 minutes out of your time to read it that is, I will briefly explain the story of Romeo and Juliet, for those that haven't had the chance to read the play, with minimal headaches and 'jibber jabber'.

Romeo, of House Montague, and Juliet, of House Capulet, fall deeply madly in love with one another. Now here lies the problem; The two house have been locked in feud with each other for as long as anyone can remember and it is an unwritten rule that no Capulet will entertain a Montague, and vice versa. The two houses have a distain for each other that sees them bite their thumbs when in the same vacinity. Plain and simply, it is wrong! There are various twists and turns within the story and the two lovers are forced to be apart. Juliet takes her life, or so Romeo is led to believe and in his pain and sorrow, takes his own life so he can be with his Juliet for eternity.

If that was still a little too complex for you to understand, stop reading now....


Still here? Great. If you have read Shakespeares 'Romeo and Juliet' and have studied it at GCSE level (that's 15 or 16 years old for anyone that is from overseas from the UK) take your time to read through my opinions of the essay title and see if you had a similar (or disimilar) point of view to myself, or even completely flipped your understanding of play on it's head.

I'd like to see your comments on this, just out of pure interest.

Happy reading!


Consider why Romeo and Juliet died in the play.

Who was to blame for what happened to the lovers?

Were they responsible at all for what happened?

 

Romeo and Juliet is a play written by William Shakespeare in the late 1500s and it is set around the Renaissance era in Verona, Italy. The story is centred around two rival families, the Capulets and the Montagues to which Juliet belonged to the former, and Romeo the latter. When the protagonists fell in love, a domino-effect of events occurred that ultimately led to their deaths. Friar Lawrence married the couple in secret and subsequently continued to play an integral part in the rest of their shortened lives. The death of Tybalt, Juliet’s cousin and the fiery character of her father created substantial strain on Romeo and Juliet’s marriage. Furthermore, Romeo’s banishment stretched their relationship to unbearable limits. Juliet’s nurse also knew everything about the hushed marriage and supported Juliet considerably. Characters with a more minor role also moulded the course of the story in small but significant ways.The deaths of Romeo and Juliet could be perceived as inevitable and simply a result of the fate of the “star-crossed lovers”[1]. However, there was not a solitary reason for the deaths of Romeo and Juliet, there were many people involved and many choices made by those people that resulted in the tragedy. Friar Lawrence, Capulet, Tybalt, the Nurse, Friar John, the Apothecary and Lady Capulet all played a significant role and all will be investigated further to determine precisely how they were responsible for the deaths of Romeo and Juliet.

 

Despite Romeo and Juliet breaking unwritten rules that forbade rival family members to have any contact (let alone marry), the two young lovers merely committed a crime of passion. There were no official laws stating that marriage between the Capulets and Montagues was forbidden. In the events leading up the their deaths, Romeo and Juliet strived to make their marriage work in secret but due to the choices that other characters had made, Romeo and Juliet became the victims rather than the perpetrators. As a result, the plan to reunite the newlyweds turned sour. Had the plan succeeded, the story might have ended with: ‘and they lived happily ever after.’ Characteristic of Shakespeare’s tragedies, however, the story turned from bad to worse. The character playing the most integral part in their avoidable deaths was Friar Lawrence. The reasoning for this controversial view of a Franciscan Friar, whom one would assume would be faithful and honest in all his actions, will illuminate how Lawrence’s actions and choices were irresponsible and delivered the killing blow to Romeo and Juliet.

 

It can be argued that Friar Lawrence is the peace maker of the story; agreeing to marry the two young lovers, consolidating both Romeo and Juliet in their moments of despair and desperation, devising a plan to reunite Juliet with her bridegroom and then rushing to the Capulet’s Monument when Friar John broke news of the undelivered letter to Romeo. However, if one delves deeper into the outcome of all of these good deeds, it can be contended that Friar Lawrence’s intentions were not entirely righteous. The first of Friar Lawrence’s ill-fated judgements was the sending of Romeo to spend the night with Juliet before he had to leave for Mantua;

 

            Go hence, good night, and here stands all your state:

Either be gone before the Watch be set,

            Or by the break of day disguised from hence.

            Sojourn in Mantua; I’ll find out your man,

            And he shall signify from time to time

            Every good hap to you that chances here.

            Give me thy hand, ‘tis late. Farewell, good night. [2]

 

This effort seems appropriate considering that Romeo and Juliet may never see each other again. Friar Lawrence explains that he will send word from Verona from time to time which gives the reader the impression that he is genuinely trying to help. Conversely, knowing of Romeo’s banishment, Friar Lawrence disobeys the Prince’s decree by sending Romeo to see Juliet. Encouraging further contact only made the possibility of a continued relationship more likely. Secondly, when Juliet approaches Friar Lawrence for guidance after being told to marry Paris or she’ll be disowned by her family, he listens and seems to appreciate the turmoil that Juliet is going through. So Friar Lawrence provides her with a sleeping poison that mimics death and the plan is set in motion;

 

            If, rather than to marry County Paris,

            Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,

            Then is it likely thou wilt undertake

            A thing like death to chide away this shame,

            That cop’st with Death himself to scape from it;

            And if thou dar’st, I’ll give thee remedy.[3]

 

It is arguable that Friar Lawrence’s plan is all for the good will of Romeo and Juliet’s marriage. On the other hand, providing a poison that fakes Juliet’s death and causes her family the pain of losing their only daughter seems somewhat immoral. This scheme would almost undoubtedly be frowned upon by other members of the Church, most certainly by Juliet’s family and could even be worthy of punishment if the Prince was to find out. Furthermore, providing Juliet with this poison will ensure the Friar’s assistance in this plan will remain secret. It cannot be ignored that if Friar Lawrence had not initiated this plan, the two deaths would never have occurred.

 

Lastly, upon learning that Romeo had never received the letter, Friar Lawrence rushed to the Capulet’s monument to break in and hide Juliet at his cell, until Romeo could be notified. Agreeably, Lawrence’s intentions to salvage the ever thinning strands of Romeo and Juliet’s marriage were respectable. However, the intention to break into a resting place for the dead and to take Juliet’s body was morally wrong and borderline grave robbing; taking into account that no one knew that Juliet was not dead. When Friar Lawrence arrived at the tomb he witnessed Juliet emerge from her deathly slumber. Fearing the discovery of his involvement, the Friar pleaded with Juliet to join him as he fled the tomb. This performance from Friar Lawrence confirms the extent of his ill intentions and confirms that he was indeed a key malefactor in the deaths of Romeo and Juliet.

 

Despite the argument that Friar Lawrence can be seen as unworthy of practicing the way of the Church and questioning his motives, it is agreeable and can clearly be appreciated that marrying Romeo and Juliet could have annulled an ancient grudge[4] and brought the feuding families together. Evidence to back up this theory can be found from a scene at the Capulet’s party.

 

            Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone,

            ‘A bears him like a portly gentleman;

            And to say truth, Verona brags of him

            To be a virtuous and well-governed youth.

            I would not for the wealth of all this town

            Here in my house do him disparagement;

            Therefore be patient, take no note of him;

            It is my will, the which of thou respect,

            Show a fair presence, and put off these frowns,

            An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.[5]

 

This speech from Capulet is used to portray the anger that he is feeling for Tybalt’s inconsideration, fiery temper and his provocation of Romeo. It gives the reader a small insight into the sort of person Capulet was, a fiercely loyal, generous and humble man; Tybalt wanted to fight Romeo, but Capulet defended him and spoke highly of him despite belonging to the enemy family. This exposes a little snippet of what could have been in the story of Romeo and Juliet, for example; If Romeo and Juliet had been truthful and open about their love for one another, from evidence stated, Capulet may well have saved the misfortune of the two young lovers dying. Furthermore, Capulet acknowledges to Paris;

 

            But Montague is bound as well as I,

            In penalty alike, and ‘tis not hard, I think,

            For men so old as we to keep the peace.

 

Once more, Capulet gives the reader a sense of false hope; he states that he thinks it is possible for the Capulets and the Montagues to live harmoniously. This is yet another insight into how avoidable the deaths of Romeo and Juliet were.

 

However, as arranged marriages were custom in the Renaissance era, Paris approached Capulet twice to push for Juliet’s hand in marriage[6]. Capulet accepted and made hastily arrangements to get his daughter married to County Paris. Juliet is asked by her mother, Lady Capulet, to marry Paris but Juliet refuses. On her refusal, Capulet enters Juliet’s bedchamber and mistakes her tears for the mourning of Tybalt. However, when Lady Capulet conveys Juliet’s insubordination, Capulet immediately changes from a calm and caring father to a whirlwind of fury and insult. Capulet delivers his ultimatum;

 

            I tell thee what: get thee to church a’Thursday,

            Or never after look me in the face.[7]

 

Juliet is mortified at the prospect of being disgraced and disowned by her own flesh and blood if she does not marry Paris and Capulet’s outrageously exacting demand shoves Juliet over the edge of rationality and tips the balance in favour of Death becoming Juliet’s new lover[8]. Her recent loss of Tybalt, the banishment of her husband and not knowing if she will ever see him again, and the choice of abandonment or marriage to someone she did not love seem all too overwhelming for Juliet, guided her to seek Friar Lawrence and progress further into the more seemingly avoidable, cold grip of death.

 

Exploring further into the culpability of the deaths of Romeo and Juliet leads to the fiery Tybalt and his insatiable appetite for vengeance on Romeo for insulting the honour of Tybalt and the Capulet party[9]. It can be argued that the turning point of this story, for Romeo, is when Mercutio and Tybalt fight for what turned out to be the last time. Romeo, being Tybalt’s newlywed cousin, tries to calm the two combatants but instead causes Mercutio’s death at Tybalt’s hand[10]. Mercutio’s death provoked Romeo into honouring his good friend Mercutio, and challenging Tybalt to a fight to the death, which in turn, led to Romeo’s banishment and arguably resulted in Romeo’s death too. Although Tybalt was not as much to blame as others in the story, his actions had a direct effect on Romeo and Juliet’s future and turned the tide of the story to an even more categorical sour ending.

 

One of the most influential characters of this bittersweet story was Juliet’s Nurse. Throughout the story the Nurse knew of Juliet’s true feelings, knew of her marriage to Romeo, and even has as much involvement as being the go-between for the two young lovers. Juliet trusts the Nurse because she helped her to be with Romeo and hide their marriage on numerous occasions[11]. However, being on the receiving end of Capulet’s wrath, the Nurse suddenly has a change of heart and loyalty, urging Juliet to forget Romeo and marry Paris;

 

            I think it best you married with the County.

            O, he’s a lovely gentleman!

            Romeo’s a dishclout to him.[12]

 

As a consequence, Juliet feels betrayed by the only person she thought she could trust. Now with the additional loss of a fabricated friend, Juliet seeks the counsel of the Friar;

 

            I’ll to the Friar to know his remedy;

            If all else fail, myself have power to die.

 

The last words articulated by Juliet as she leaves for Friar Lawrence’s cell convey her own ultimatum, as a symbol of defiance to her father’s earlier demand and a gesture of her desperation to rid herself of the seclusion she is feeling. The Nurse is clearly accountable for Juliet’s looming death due to her shock promotion of Capulet’s proposal.

 

A Franciscan brother of Friar Lawrence’s, Friar John was merely entrusted by Friar Lawrence to take the all-important letter to Romeo. Nevertheless, the ploy to save Romeo and Juliet’s marriage followed suit and plunged from an already superfluous situation to an even worse one. Friar John told his brother of his misfortune;

 

            Going to find a barefoot brother out,

            One of our order, to associate me,

            Here in this city visiting the sick,

            And finding him, the searchers of the town,

            Suspecting that we were both in a house

            Where the infectious pestilence did reign,

            Sealed up the doors, and would not let us forth,

            So that my speed to Mantua there was stayed[13]

 

This speech from Friar John tells the reader that he did not follow Friar Lawrence’s orders immediately. Instead, he sought to find someone from his order to accompany him on his journey and consequently delaying this hasty task unnecessarily. As a result, Romeo was told that Juliet had died and so was never told of the elaborate plan, causing Romeo to believe that Juliet was dead and to take his own life. Thus, Friar John helped to usher in the deaths with his unworthiness of such a task, rather than preventing it.

 

Preventing death is also something the apothecary in Mantua certainly did not do;

 

            Put this in any liquid thing you will

            And drink it off, and if you had the strength

            Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight[14].

 

The apothecary could have granted precious time on Romeo’s preventable death by adhering to the law and not selling the illegal poison to Romeo[15]. This would have bought needed time for Friar Lawrence to reclaim Juliet from the Capulet’s monument. Instead, the apothecary uses his pennilessness to allow Romeo to persuade him to sell the poison[16].

 

Finally, the investigation reveals that Lady Capulet’s involvement in the deaths of Romeo and Juliet is somewhat minor in comparison to the other characters. Evidently, Lady Capulet was not in any way directly involved in Juliet’s death: her lack of mothering toward Juliet did not help her daughter in shying away from death as a comfort;

 

            Talk to me not, for I’ll not speak a word.

            Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee[17]

 

These hard words from Lady Capulet confirm that her loyalty lay with Juliet’s father. Lady Capulet was not as much as a mother to Juliet as was the Nurse; she was more of a secondary authority figure who followed the word of her superior husband. Capulet’s words were final. Not wanting to undermine him, Lady Capulet turned Juliet away when she needed her most. Therefore, Lady Capulet’s involvement was indeed minor, but still delivered a hurtful blow that pushes Juliet evermore closer to the avoidable deaths of herself and Romeo.

 

In conclusion, there was no one person responsible for the deaths of Romeo and Juliet. It was in fact a combination of actions by many characters, all of which have been discussed. The character that had the most involvement in the demise of Romeo and Juliet’s relationship and indeed their lives was Friar Lawrence. Throughout the story Friar Lawrence was in a position to both know and influence the course of events leading up to the deaths, and throughout the story, guided Romeo and Juliet with what can be argued was an unwise hand. However, the point at which the story took a turn for the worse was when Romeo killed Tybalt. It can be argued that had this not occurred, Friar Lawrence would not have needed to devise the inauspicious plan and from that point on, the likelihood of a happy ending decreased dramatically. Although it may be tempting to hold fate accountable for the deaths of the protagonists, in reference to the evidence used in this investigation, it can quite clearly be seen that Romeo and Juliet’s deaths were very much avoidable.


 

Bibliography

 

William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, (Cambridge School Shakespeare, Cambridge University Press, 2005)



[1] Prologue – line 6
[2] Friar Lawrence – Act 3 Scene 4, line 166 - 172
[3] Friar Lawrence – Act 4 Scene 1, line 71 – 76 (for the more detailed plan see lines 89 – 120)
[4] Prologue – line 3
[5] Capulet – Act 1 Scene 5, line 64 - 73
[6] Paris – Act 1 Scene 2, line 6
   Paris – Act 3 Scene 4, line 8 - 29
[7] Capulet – Act 3 Scene 5, line 161 -162
[8] Romeo – Act 5 Scene 3, line 102 - 105
[9] Source used from Tybalt – Act 1 Scene 5, line 57
[10] Mercutio and Tybalt’s fight scene – Act 3 Scene 1, line 80 - 85
[11] Juliet/Nurse – Act 2 Scene 5, line 66 – 77
    Nurse – Act 3 Scene 2, line 138 – 141
    Nurse – Act 3 Scene 5, line 39 - 40
[12] Nurse – Act 3 Scene 5, line 217 - 219
[13] Friar John – Act 5 Scene 2, line 5 - 12
[14] Apothecary – Act 5 scene 1, line 77 - 79
[15] Apothecary – Act 5 Scene 1, line 66 - 67
[16] Romeo – Act 5 Scene 1, line 58 - 59
[17] Lady Capulet – Act 3 Scene 5, line 202 – 203