Book of Choice: "Northrop Frye on Shakespeare"

I chose Frye's book on a bit of a whim. It was available at the library and I thought, well, why not? Upon reading the introduction, I realized that I made a solid choice.

So wait a minute, who's the dude in the picture?

What I gather from the introduction is that Frye acknowledges the multidimensionality of Shakespeare's appeal and longevity. The fact that Shakespeare is a rare artist whose work transcends the time and culture of its creation is no revelation. And yet, Frye makes a compelling case that this fact of eternal relevance cannot overshadow the historical context in which it was written.

As somebody who is also a film major/theater junkie, I take interest in Frye's mention of the actual staging conventions and (for better or worse) versatility of the Bard's plays (i.e., changing the setting to Mars or Nazi Germany). The attention to detail in the creation of his characters also is something I look forward to reading about, as fully realized beings in the unique situations in which they exist. I believe that these components are very important and engaging, and while I do take interest in the more academic facets of Shakespeare studies (i.e., the references to classical works, etc.), I appreciate the fact that Frye says, "there is never anything outside his plays that he wants to 'say' or talk about in the plays."

I eagerly anticipate where this work may take me, and hope that it deepens my insight of Shakespeare. Here we go.

A (Crude Attempt At A) Sonnet

Don't judge me too harshly for this. I'm telling you now that it will having to do with Shakespeare... I guess it's a sonnet on dreaming and sleep paralysis.

The moon's become a fickle friend.
Some nights are full of glorious peace,
And others never seem to end.
Insomnia, I ask that you disist and cease.
And yet when dreams my mind evokes
It feels like years in worlds abstract.
This rush of wonder an anthem provokes,
A song which holds this sense intact.
Yet there are times I can't escape
The confines of my nightly cell.
A ghostly bind holds tight like tape
My arms and legs, they can't rebel.
Though paralyzed in this brief fright,
The sleep is sleep, and that's just all right.

Meh... not bad.

School of Night: A Whole Lot of Nothing

OK, first there's something I need to get out of my system.

Tell 'em, Billy!

Now, back to work.

Turner's essay struck me as a very interesting account of the luminaries associated with the cooler-than-thou collective of the School of Night. With the amount of times that the concept of "nothing" was brought up in one way or another, it would be easy to peg this group propagating a nihilistic view for the sake of rubbing it in the faces of the religious higher-ups. However, such an outlook would be far too boring... the way that the School of Night embraced this Nothing is something that I find fascinating and, in a way, inspiring.

Nothing at face value is obviously a huge disappointment. Look at the reaction to the discovery of the New World--once the honeymoon ended, Turner likens the societal reality that the supposed endless possibilities turned out to change nothing to the coming of a sickness. This promise of something grand turned out to be unfulfilled. The real excitement was one that couldn't be brought back to the masses--instead, this Nothing yielded intangible wonder and discovery that only the like of Thomas Hariot could grasp. Nothing that had to be experienced to be understood.

At the risk of sounding pretentious or sophomoric, what I took away from this essay is the limitless possibilities of Nothing. What we have to work with in the mind is without shape or form, and that if we should be so bold as to harness the energy of the void to make something, then anything can result. Now, not to pull the same "You can do absolutely anything that you want!" kind of stuff that everybody mother says to her child, but in reaching outside the bounds of convention, greatness ensues.

The section on Juan Vives' fable on the gods creating living creatures to act on the stage of the world encapsulates the weight that comes with manipulating but believing in this endlessness. This imitation that we as humans carry forth day by day, mimicking the gods (theoretically) yields creation and thought of great power. Sir Walter Raleigh said that the concept of the soul was something created, but that it was no less real for that fact... Now getting into spirituality and religion is kind of a slippery slope, but I agree with the thought that our attempts as humans to justify and explain our experiences--giving the intangible a definition--adds an element to it that helps us to understand it and maybe even look deeper into it.

I realize that this may be a lot of rambling. When I blog on my own time (not very often), I tend to ramble on and on... I'm not terribly used to doing this academically but I hope that this entry wasn't a total insult to Turner's insightful writing.

Consuming Myths--David Bowie Style

Hey, all.

The discussion on consuming myths got me thinking about a haunting song from David Bowie's classic album "Low". While I don't know if this myth necessarily consumed Bowie, it's a creepy thought--no matter what you do or how you look ahead, you're bound to make the same mistakes as before. I suppose we have all felt this at some point.

I'm sure this is addressed more eloquently in some classical work, but until I learn what this is, this will do.

"Always Crashing in the Same Car"

Academically substantial discourse to follow, I swear!

Venus and Adonis/The Rape of Lucrece

Being a bit of a Shakespeare newbie myself, I was not familiar with either poem before I read them. I found them both to be very interesting takes on a totally one-sided sexual encounter--one obviously more sinister than the other.

Maybe I just need to read more Shakespeare and classical lit, but the "girl chases guy" aspect of Venus and Adonis was something that I had never quite read before in this sort of mythical context. The notion of the male being the innocent virgin was an interesting take on it. Maybe not virgin in the totally pure and virtuous sense... but he literally has no interest in Venus and calls love "a life in death". In a way he seems to have the right idea, knowing that it wasn't worth his time and that he would eventually die soon anyway.

The Rape of Lucrece was a pretty unsettling read for me. Tarquin's seemingly endless internal monolog about his motivation to commit such a horrible and unforgivable crime is pretty dark, and it seems pretty ahead of its time in execution and subject matter. He wasn't a one-sided "Snidely Whiplash" type character but rather one with some pretty deep and disturbing motivations. Lucrece's devastation also seems quite real and powerful, even though the fact that her revenge can only be completed by committing suicide is quite tragic.

Overall they were both fascinating reads and made for compelling companion pieces to each other. What did you all thing?

Gotta love "The Onion"

A humorous Shakespeare post...
MADNESS!

Billy Shakespeare and Me.

I'd be surprised to hear if I was the only one whose first introduction to Shakespeare was freshmen year in high school, reading "Romeo and Juliet" in English class. In a way it's totally appropriate--awkward teens in their transitional years reading about other awkward teens who probably weren't to smart about who they were fooling around with. Reading that in class and watching the Franco Zefferelli film version made for an overall satisfactory intro to Shakespeare. Then came "Hamlet" in sophomore year and "King Lear" senior year (each of them read at least once more in college).

I don't think I grew to actually appreciate Shakespeare fully until taking Walter Metz's MTA 104 "Theater and Mass Media" class in fulfillment of my film major. "Hamlet" and "The Tempest" were both readings on the syllabus, and the way Walter taught the class was in such a fashion that really opened my eyes to the  theatrical roots of just about any form of popular medium today--specifically film and television. The fact that Shakespeare's fingerprints are all over everything from "Gilligan's Island" (Walter was convinced that the castaways' five minute staging of "Hamlet" was probably the most concise and clever adaptation of all time) to South Park ("Titus Andronicus" = "Scott Tenorman Must Die"...seriously) speaks a lot to the power and life present in his works. It was a very rich experience and helped me see that Shakespeare was pretty much present in the DNA of any pop culture entity.

There was a funny article on The Onion.Com about a bold, revolutionary director of Shakespearean theater who was directing one of The Bard's plays in the time and setting that the playwright intended. As a student of film, storytelling, art, and literature I think the fact that Shakespeare has never really become irrelevant is really mindblowing. I'm looking forward to hearing aaaaaaall about it.

Truly not the end of zombie Shakespeare.