The End

When I signed up for this class, I knew I needed to take it for a couple reasons.  First of all, to graduate.  But really because I knew that in a year I would be thrown into a classroom of 14 year olds and expected to teach them about this brilliant man named Shakespeare.  And finally, I wanted to have the opportunity to engage with his works in a college setting where there would be deep thought and freedom to explore his writing in my own way.  As I make the final push to graduation, I'm glad I have had the experiences (including Shakespeare class) that I have at MSU even though I have wondered many times why I was here.  As I finish my last papers and presentations, I can only hope that I'll have something worthwhile to pass on to a bunch of high school freshmen next semester :)

It’s All in the Family

When we are born, we cry that we are come/ To this great stage of fools

-King Lear Act 4 Scene 6

            William Shakespeare, forever read and admired and forever unnecessarily dreaded in high schools, approached writing similarly to many other literary geniuses, but his works rise above the rest in their timelessness.  Shakespeare describes common life experiences through dramas, and he never avoids the questions that confuse and discourage our finite minds.  Shakespeare understands deeply and intimately the pain that makes up the human experience, and he knows better than anyone else how to portray the experiences that we do not dare try to put into words. In his plays, we read stories of betrayal, conflict, and untimely deaths, the very experiences that pierce us deeply and leave hurt buried inside our souls. 

            Unfortunately, we often extract the poignancy from his genius when we categorize his works as tragedies and comedies, outlining their structure and dissecting their parts.  Who are we to give labels to his vivid replications of our own lives?  The labels remove the reality from his plays so that we see his works as literary devices and strategies, not reflections of ourselves.  If we could look more deeply into his works, we would see their power not only as stories about fictional people, but as stories that mirror our own lives. 

            From his willingness to explore senseless pain, Shakespeare understands something more deeply than any other author in history.  He understands the excruciating pain and joy that make up the family unit and how family contributes to our tragedy.  He brings to life the fears deeply buried in all of us that relate to our most carefully guarded secrets.  His work with the family embodies Alexander Pope’s idea of poetry as “What oft was thought but ne’er so well Exprest.”  His plays attempt to unbury the confusion in our souls accumulated from the tragedy of our experiences.  The betrayal of children, the cyclical return to childhood for the elderly, and the madness of family members are kept hidden from view in our own lives, but Shakespeare writes unashamedly about these very occurrences.  The family is a creation so intricately constructed yet so prone to unrest, and Shakespeare captures its intense beauty and pain. 

            Whether we will admit it or not, our families are the center of our lives.  We joke about our crazy parents and our drug addict cousin Nellie, pretending it doesn’t hurt, that it doesn’t tear us apart.  We run from the messiness that is family, escape to college and escape to work, but they call us back, call us home.  Our hearts ache for that place that is the center of joy and sorrow, the only place in the world where we are known.  So many scars are exposed, mistakes unhidden and unaffected by our fake, worldly identities.  Into these complicated depths of ourselves Shakespeare beckons us.

            Before looking at the family in Shakespeare’s King Lear, it is important to understand the significance of the family bond in Shakespeare’s time.  Common traditions such as the parental blessing ritual and courtship, betrothal and inheritance customs are often lost on modern readers who read from a much more individualistic background.  In Shakespeare’s time, however, the family bond was sacred and a person’s family determined the trajectory of his/her life (Young).  The common blessing ritual shows the significance of the bond.  Morning and night, the children would kneel before their parents and ask for a blessing.  The parents would then call to Heaven, asking for blessings on their child.  This ritual symbolized the respect and obedience with which children related to their parents.  Also, in Shakespeare’s age, the father was the ultimate and unquestionable head of the household, whether tyrannical or loving.  Finally, this cultural respect for the parents also meant children were required by Elizabethan law to care for their parents in old age (Young).  Having these family characteristics as a background helps us view Shakespeare’s works and the meaning behind them more clearly.

            One of Shakespeare’s most intimately woven and frighteningly real subjects is his treatment of the family unit, and often his plays center around events that happen when something in a family goes terribly wrong.  In Hamlet, Hamlet is avenging the murder of his father by his uncle who married his mother, displaying some very complicated family dynamics.  In Romeo and Juliet, the action springs from family rivalries.  Here Shakespeare portrays the power of a family’s honor and loyalty, common family characteristics in that culture.  In light of this family attribute of his works and the cultural significance of the family unit, perhaps one of the most troubling scenarios that Shakespeare brings to life is the betrayal of family members. 

            In King Lear, the most unfortunate series of events is set in motion by an initial familial conflict.  Lear, an aging king, must decide how to divide his kingdom among his three daughters.  He asks his daughters to speak of their love for him individually in order to help him decide how to divide the kingdom.  One daughter, Cordelia, refuses to play his childish game.  Cordelia says, “Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave/ My heart into my mouth.  I love Your Majesty/ According to my bond, no more nor less” (I.I.88-90).  This opening scene of stubborn pride from both Cordelia and her father sparks the destruction of that familial bond, and from their conflict the action of the play begins.  Merideth Skura explains the treatment of family in King Lear in her article, “Dragon Fathers and Unnatural Children: Warring Generations in King Lear and Its Sources.”  She says, 

            The mutual destruction in Shakespeare's play is psychologically and             painfully realistic […] Lear's childish self-centeredness smothers Cordelia;             her youthful declaration of independence tears him apart and drives him             mad. The pity and terror elicited from audiences come from watching fathers             and children attack, humiliate, and abandon each other (123).

Lear is a flawed, human father, but he is also victimized when his other two daughters turn against him.  Goneril and Regan both profess their love to him in gushing words, only to turn their backs on him later.  They abuse their aging father, taking from him everything he possessed.  They manipulate him, refusing even to give him knights and kicking him out of the castle during a bad storm.  Lear is heartbroken, and he eventually goes mad.  He says of his daughters’ betrayal, “The daughters’ ingratitude is like violence of one part of the body against another: “Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand / For lifting food to’t?” (III.IV.15-16).                       

            In the same play, another familial plot occurs between the nobleman Gloucester and his bastard child, Edmund. Gloucester, a well-respected nobleman, reveals at the beginning of the play that he fathered a bastard child who of whom he is ashamed.  Edmund, jealous of his legitimate brother Edgar, devises a plan to trick his father into believing that his Edgar is going to usurp the estate.  Gloucester believes the lie, severing the strong relationship with Edgar.  These breaks in family loyalty are heartbreaking and striking.  The horrible tragedy that occurs at the end of the play tears us more deeply because of the severance of important familial relationships.

            Paired with the fractured relationships with their children, both Lear and Gloucester are aging men, losing their authority in the world as well as in their own families.  Shakespeare’s treatment of old age shows an understanding of the phenomenon that everyone experiences.  He raises the question that we often avoid until the end of our lives.  What is the point of life if we are to return to dust?  Lear, once a powerful king, has been reduced by old age to a physically weak, mentally ill, lonely man.  Gloucester’s blindness and his suicide attempt convince us of the hopelessness of his future.  Shakespeare is showing us our futures and the futures of those we love in the lives of these aging men.

            The elderly return in a cyclical way to be as they were as babies, unable to provide for themselves the most basic of needs.  The cycle takes an active, productive human life and renders it suddenly useless and helpless.  The elderly sit in wheelchairs staring into space.  If they are lucky enough to remain cognitively aware, they may spend their days on puzzles or watching television.  They are no longer able to provide for themselves, becoming a burden to their children and relatives.  The life that was so full and purposeful so quickly is depleted of its meaning.  All the endeavors that a person has given himself or herself to suddenly mean nothing as they are tucked away in a room of some facility, where they barely see the world or the sunlight.  Walking the halls of a nursing home, it is common to see short biographies on residents’ doors.  The stories tell of the accomplishments of their lives.  One was an astronaut, one was a brilliant teacher, one gave his life as a doctor working overseas in impoverished neighborhoods.  And now they sit, watching television, with only a plaque on the door to remember their life. 

            Walking the halls of the nursing home where I worked in high school, it was common to hear people yelling from their rooms, have a hand reach out and grab mine with a death grip, and to breathe in unpleasant odors resulting from uncontrollable bowels.  Martha talked in gibberish, Maxine sang unrecognizable songs from her childhood, diabetic Betty stole cookies from the fridge, Lucy sat smiling in her wheelchair, cognitively aware and yet unable to communicate after suffering from a stroke.  Fred was wheeled off to his daily dialysis appointment and Agnes received her pills in a spoonful of pudding.  Some residents had visitors every day while others had no one.  Some talked fondly of their families while others eyes clouded over with the hurt and pain of severed relationships.

            Like many of these people, Lear has had great success and many friends and accomplishments in his life, but from Cordelia’s initial act of rebellion, one by one Lear loses his friends and family until he is left alone on the heath with only his Fool and Poor Tom as company (Collington).  He descends rapidly into depression and madness as his success is stripped away and the cycle of life reaches him at last.  Drenched and wandering through the tempest, Lear prays, ““You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!/  You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,/ As full of grief as age, wretched in both” (II.IV.268-271).  As the storm continues, Lear sinks deeper and deeper into madness, losing his sense of reality.

            Shakespeare uses madness not as a comical occurrence, but as a realistic portrayal of the end of life, knowing that his audiences know mental illness, amnesia, and physical suffering.  Shakespeare knows that they have family members who are mentally struggling and that there has been great tragedy in their families.  Lear sinks deep into depression and eventual madness after his two daughters, Goneril and Regan, turn him out of the castle and into a nasty storm.  As he wanders through the rain and wind, he at first has a sense of reality.  He speaks of his age, his daughters’ cruelty, and the injustice of his current circumstances.  However, he begins to lose his senses, talking of the “tempest in [his] mind” (III.IV.13-14).  Shakespeare paints the picture of the terrible storm as a symbol of not only the political storm, but the storm raging in Lear’s mind after he has suffered from these severed relationships with his children.

            Lear’s struggles would have come anyway with aging, but the severed family relationships make the end of his life so much harder.  It seems that one can handle the challenges one faces with a support system and a family to lean on, but facing old age and death alone is very frightening.  When I worked at the nursing home, the most troubling to me of all the old age was a man named Bill.  He suffered from muscular dystrophy and was actually only forty years old.  He lived in a place that smelled of death.  Of course, no one would advertise a nursing home that way, but really, people moved out of this Earth every day in those rooms.  Bill stayed.  He stayed for twenty long years.  He lived alongside mental illness, physical decay, and hopeless lives.   

            The sadness that one felt upon meeting and spending time with Bill was not only based on his physical condition.  Many people suffer disabilities and yet lead joyful and meaningful lives.  The heart-wrenching part about Bill’s life was the desertion of his parents and family, the failure of the family unit.  His parents only managed to visit every few months.  Bill spoke with bitterness whenever he was asked about them.  Bill needed his family, and they had deserted him. 

            Our family is the crux of our support, but in an instant it can become the crux of our deepest pain.  In a society that is becoming more and more individualistic, we are losing something of great value.  Yes, families often fail and often fall apart, but maybe this happens because we do not place value on those relationships, and then we wonder what went wrong when they fail.  Most things that are worth anything encompass both joy and sorrow, and the family unit is one of those things that we cannot lose.  Our families are flawed.  They will fail.  But those relationships are worth the pain. 

            That is why it is so relieving when Lear and Cordelia reconcile their relationship at the end of the drama.  There is a sense of peace and rightness that overcomes all the bad things that have happened.  The ending is far from happy; the audience shudders as Cordelia takes her last breath and Lear falls dead on top of her in his grief.  However, there is a sense of closure knowing that they died together, reconciled and full of love for one another.  In the same way, Gloucester’s death is sweetened by his joy at the revelation of his son Edgar, who he learns is alive. 

            Shakespeare asks us to take a good look at our disabled world.  It is a world where pain and sorrow abound, where daughters turn their backs on an aging father, and where illegitimate sons trick their fathers into hating their brother.  Cordelia speaks of the inevitable injustice, saying to her father as they are taken away to prison, “We are not the first/ Who with best meaning have incurred the worst” (V.III.3-4).  It is our ability to grapple with the tough questions that will lead to more maturity (if less understanding).  None of us can change the brokenness of the world, but we can choose what to do with it in our own minds and with our actions.  In King Lear, Shakespeare deliberately illustrates tragedy in the context of family because his audience would have understood the pain he was trying to portray.  He challenges us to think about the tragedy in our own lives and face the realities of the world in which we live.

Works Cited

Collington, Phillip D. “Self-Discovery in Montaigne's ‘Of Solitarinesse’ and King             Lear.” Comparative Drama 35.3, 4 (2001-02): 247-269. Web. 13 April 2013.

Skura, Merideth. “Dragon Fathers and Unnatural Children: Warring Generations in             King Lear and Its Sources.” Comparative Drama. 42.2 (2008): 121-148. Web.             13 April 2013.

Shakespeare, William. King Lear. New York: Pearson Longman, 2005. Print.

Young, Bruce W. Family Life in the Age of Shakespeare. Westport: Greenwood Press,             2009. Print.

Thoughts on Frederick Turner

I think having gone through the process of writing my own sonnet a few weeks ago, I was way more amazed than I would have otherwise been.  The rhyme and the meter of his poems is so perfected and brilliant.  When he was reading the first piece, The Undiscovered Country, I would stop on a line to try to understand it and by the time I had caught up he was at the next sonnet!  I really enjoyed the experience of listening to him read and share his own work.

When he introduced The Undiscovered Country, he described the experience of traveling alone, of being in a place where no one else that you know exists.  I was thinking about this scenario as I listened to him read about the traveler's fulfillment, loneliness, and thoughts.  I remember feeling this sweet aloneness one time when I was traveling in Nicaragua.  We had traveled for hours trying to get to this remote spot on an island in Lake Nicaragua.  We got there and were swimming in the lake, and I had this moment of realizing how alone I was.  I had a few friends with me, but besides them, no one in the world knew where I was.  My parents, my boyfriend, and anyone in my normal context had any idea what I was doing at that moment.  It was a weird feeling... one where I felt very alone in a world that was huge and unexplored.  As I listened to Frederick Turner's poem, I was reminded of that moment and the meaning that these experiences add to our lives.

I've recently been fascinated with Les Miserables.  When a movie comes out, I always am inspired to read the book, even though it should be the other way around.  As I have lost myself in the incredible (and incredibly long) text, I see many connections to King Lear.  In both, I find myself thinking, "that's not fair!"  It seems to be a dilemma that literature is unafraid to approach.  Why should the innocent suffer?  Why do our good deeds not result in a rewards?  In fact in these novels, it is the exact opposite.  The moral, good, loved characters experience great tragedy in their lives.

In both plays, there is the much-loved protagonist who suffers unnecessarily.  Jean Valjean spends years in prison for stealing a loaf of bread for his starving family.  He spends his life hiding from Javert, never able to find forgiveness for his one wrong move.  Lear also makes a mistake at the beginning of his play that causes unbearable suffering and his deterioration into madness.

Fantine is much like Cordelia.  She risks her heart with a man who says he loves her, only to be completely abandoned by him and left alone with a child.  Like Jean Valjean, she cannot escape her misery as society refuses to forgive her for having a child out of wedlock.  Cordelia, the image or perfect beauty and honesty, loses her family and her life for a wise choice.  Both of these women are presented as images of purity, but in the end they lose their lives because of the cruelty of others.

Both of the plays end with a cathartic moment of familial happiness.  Cossette (Fantine's daughter) is reunited with Jean Valjean when she learns the truth about his past.  The reconciliation is moving, and Jean Valjean dies in peace after a long, hard life.  Cordelia and Lear also experience reconciliation.  Lear has lost most of his sanity, but he recognizes his daughter.  At the end of their time together, he says, "Pray you now, forget and forgive.  I am old and foolish."  His grieves the hurt he has caused, but receives forgiveness from his daughter.

Forgiveness is the connection that I see.  Unforgiveness causes great pain and suffering in both great works while the power of reconciliation shines forth as the characters eventually choose to forgive one another.  True, none of the noble characters get what they deserve, but in the end there is peace in their lives.

Moments of Strength and Weakness

Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth.
-Cordelia

In a moment of high pressure, young Cordelia takes the high road, standing in contrast to her brash father and sisters.  The depth of character in this young, beautiful girl took hold of my sympathies from the beginning.  She is offered a kingdom, a husband, and her father's favor in exchange for a few simple flattering words, but she decides not to play their game.  I find the relationship between her and Lear fascinating because it is not like she hates him and is rebelling against him.  Instead, she loves and respects him, but in his faults she cannot support him.  How difficult it is to stand up against a loving parent, to tell an elder that they are wrong.  Honesty truly shines forth in the opening scene.

I really am enjoying this play.  I think it interests me because the relationships are so complex and real and messy.  This dysfunctional family is relatable to me, and I think that is why I enjoy tragedy.  It reveals moments of weakness and moments of strength.  Both King Lear's brash decision to banish his daughter and Cordelia's decision to be honest... Those moments shape our lives and have such lasting consequences. With these moments, words have the ability to do great damage or to bring about peace.  This idea reminds me of a passage from the Bible that talks about the tongue.

Even so the tongue is a little member and boasts great things.  See how great a forest a little fire kindles!    And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity.  The tongue is so set among our members that it defiles the whole body, and sets on fire the course of nature; and it is set on fire by hell.

James 3: 5-6

I recently had this experience while traveling with a group over Spring Break.  We had been traveling for... too long, and during a 14 hour layover, my tongue took over in moment of weakness.  I exploded in anger at a friend when she gave me some simple advice.  This explosion was out of character for me, and afterward I realized the consequences of my momentary weakness.  Shakespeare of course understands this human experience of momentary decisions, and he plays with the experience a lot in King Lear.

My Sonnet Attempt

I read through some sonnets in the Hughes book, and this was one of my favorites.    

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote;
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone:
But my five wits nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man,
Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain.

Tonight when my husband got home from work, he was... crabby.  And then I was... crabby.  It happens, right?  Anyways, he left for a little while, and I'm thinking it is the right time to hit him with some poetry when he gets home :)  I've never written poetry for my significant otter, but we'll see how it goes!  My sonnet is about the night we started dating.  I don't think it sounds very good or very Shakespearean, but I gave it a shot.

To My Significant Otter

Your shaky hands hold mine so soft

Around, around, around we walk.

The night is cool, the stars aloft

Around, around, around we talk.

Hopeful hearts run wild tonight;

Whispered hopes from deep do strive;

Imagined love on tongues alight

As quiet words on air describe

The terror that we feel inside.

The pumping of our beating chests

Advises us to run and hide

Lest in another soul the future rests.

The mystery of a romance

That time may bring to love perchance.

As imagination bodies forth

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen

Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing

A local habitation and a name.

I'm interested in the conversations that have been taking place in class as well as on the blogs in regards to imagination.  There seems to be an insecurity when it comes to literature and "saying smart things."  Our discussion of the imagination interested me.  Professor Sexson said that there are no correct interpretations of anything, but just two kinds of misreadings, or levels of thinking... which doesn't make me feel much better about not saying smart things.  And then we looked at Coleridges definition:

The primary Imagination I hold to be the living Power and prime Agent of all human Perception, and as a repetition in the finite mind of the eternal act of creation in the infinite I Am. The secondary I consider as an echo of the former, co-existing with the conscious will, yet still as identical with the primary in the kind of its agency, and differing only in degree, and in the mode of its operation. It dissolves, diffuses, dissipates, in order to re-create; or where this process is rendered impossible, yet still at all events it struggles to idealize and to unify. It is essentially vital, even as all objects (as objects) are essentially fixed and dead.

So as "imaginers,"we are usually drawing from what has already been created and the original is so brilliant and so inspired that we spend our time trying to make sense of the divine essence of the primary Imagination.  We mimic that essence through words and paintings and notes of music, but those objects remain fixed and dead.  I like that Coleridge uses the verb struggle to describe this process of the imagination.  I falls right into Shakespeare's description of "giving to airy nothing a local habitation and a name."  This is the process we experience as Lit majors that many other people never get to experience!

I've struggled with it.  I hate those times when I have nothing to say.  I think there is a correlation there with the rude mechanicals.  I feel like Bottom, bumbling along without much to contribute to the world.

And I blog on... :)

The first video is from the first film version of the play, made in 1909.  I really liked the depiction of the mechanicals and their "language of the street corner."

As I was reading through my classmates' blogs, I was intimidated (as I usually am) by the depth of thought and insight each person brought through their writing.  I was most intrigued with Angel's blog. She wrote a post talking about seeing ourselves in Shakespeare's characters.  And... ah... isn't this the purpose of literature?  (Or one of them, at least?)  I work in the writing center on campus, and often it is so hard to get this point across to writers.  "Your professor does not want you to summarize the book, she wants to know WHY it matters."  And yet, we are so afraid to do this... and often we English majors are the worst!  We talk about ideas and we ponder and we analyze and speculate, but do we ever let what we read shape us?  Do we see the fatal flaws of Theseus or Hamlet, identify with them, and they resolve to change that shared behavior?  I admit that often I do not.  I read for a class, for a professor, for a grade, but I rarely take the time to read in a personal way.  I love the aesthetic aspect of our discipline, memorizing Shakespeare and feeling the beauty of his words, but I'm also a concrete person.  I have to find a way to make these beautiful words I read significant to me and also to the world around me.  Like Angel mentioned in her blog, it is pretty amazing to think that this class of interesting people in this a room filled with Ipads and laptops and Smartphones... we are working through many of the same struggles that the audience of Midsummer Night's Dream was facing.  We are the top and the bottom, the high and the low, and we can identify as wholeheartedly as Shakespeare's original audience.  So maybe that will be my project for the semester.  I will blog about some personal engagement and identification with characters and see what happens...

As I've been reading A Midsummer Night's Dream, I've been really interested in the process of reading his work.  Obviously, his masterful grasp of the English language sets him apart from other writers throughout history... but also his creativity with language.  He does what many English teachers tell their students NOT to do.  He plays with language.  It's like a door is opened up to a new world without all the rules and formats and paragraphs.  He makes his own words and structures, and it is brilliant.  Dr. Sexson's assignment to have us memorize a passage is so powerful because a quick reading of MSND just is not the same experience that we will have soaking in a specific passage and letting it open up new doors in our mind.  When I think of memorizing literature, these are some words that come to mind.

Ruminating
Soaking
Enjoying
Experiencing
Listening

For me, there are few texts that allow for that kind of experience with language, but the work of Shakespeare is so rich and heavy that we can spend hours with a passage before uncovering its meaning.  Reading Shakespeare is a process, and even if there there was no story, plot or meaning it would still be fascinating work with depth and insight.

This is my first experience reading one of Shakespeare's comedies.  In the past I have studied tragedies, and both are great.  The comedy is light and fast to read, but the tragedy draws me into the story and helps me identify with characters.

The contrast between the craftsmen and the lovers.  Shakespeare really brings each group to life by showing their differences.
Helena's dramatic nature is very entertaining.
Demitrius's direct way of speaking to Helena.  He is blunt
Titania's sass :)
The fairies' banter and their rhythmic language.

More on my reading to come...

Seeing Everything in the Context of Nothing

The end of Hughes' essay was fascinating to me.  He is describing the debate about Nothing that takes place in The Tempest.  "What is justice, if the soul is artificial?"  This is just one of the questions that he raises, but it makes you think.  If we really are just tottering on the edge of the world and the void, what should we do?  Who should we be?  Should we follow the rules of our systems?  If everything we know is founded on nothing, to me then everything is rendered completely and utterly meaningless.  It reminds me of the famous sonnet that examines mortality and time.  None of us can escape the ticking of the clock and the knowledge that our lives are temporal.  So what are we going to do about it?

Sonnet 12

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls, all silvered o'er with white; 
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves,
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
      And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
   Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence. 

Hughes' ends his essay with the somewhat obvious yet important observation that these thought and this confusing debate about Nothing has led to countless discoveries in algebra, astronomy, and optics and it has given us limitless poetry and drama.  Pretty cool, I guess :)

Appetite for Words

Last semester as I was thinking about teaching English, I had a sudden and terrifying thought:  I WILL have to teach Shakespeare.  It's not that I don't like Shakespeare, but more that I don't feel like I have a good grasp on it.  In high school, I got through those Romeo and Juliet and Macbeth without much engagement and I have read no Shakespeare in college... until now.  The introduction to Essential Shakespeare has already helped me so much to understand that important mystery-solving piece that I really lacked in regards to the great playwright... and that piece is context.  The introduction reminded me of some information that I learned too long ago and it brought to light new information about Shakespeare's culture.

I now know a little about the religious turmoil in England and how Shakespeare had to balance his writing carefully so as not to offend important people.

I know about his diverse audience and the pressure he had to appeal to the rich and the poor.

I know that his language was an intentional blending that he created to reach both the rich and the poor.

I know that he often made up words, and this trait was not unique to him but was a cultural fascination. I want that word craze to become popular again!

Those were just a few quick first thoughts, and I'm excited to learn more about the fascinating person of Shakespeare. :)