Being sick does tend to elongate things. It’s been the weekend, but I’m entirely “done” with this sore throat. Every morning has required a throat lube (not in a good way) and I’m getting a little bored with feeling comfortable in sleeping half the day. Hopefully, today will be the end. I had some thoughts of having bf check my throat out but then nixed the idea since he would probably pass out. Sigh, to be stuck with a faint-hearted gay man…
So, Julius Caesar. Patrick Stewart was not in it. I didn’t finish rereading the play and its analysis. It’s comforting to know that even the best of the best can act their asses off and still come up with a Shakespearean play that begins fine but ends kinda tedious. It was probably the throat that made me want to take a nap from Act 3 onward.
I did read some analysis that helped: This was Shakespeare’s first play at the Globe. Johnson thought Shakespeare had gaffed a couple of the lines meters. Some thought it was originally a comedy, not a tragedy. Originally, the costuming was anachronistic at times (guards and soldiers would be in Elizabethan dress). I noted some other anachronisms: No clocks or books in classical Rome, Brutus puts a robe on over his armor (that’d be comfortable to sleep in), the names pronounced with English intonation, not Latin (but now I’m getting picky), etc. But I think this is a limitation of Shakespeare’s historical plays (although this is not listed as one). He has source material–Plutarch–and for the most part he follows it. Yes, he makes some editorial decisions about what works better on the stage, but that’s his job. He was working before the “re-enactments” of The History Channel and entertainment was scarce to the commoners.
What I enjoyed most was TreeTown’s devotion to the Secular Divine. TreeTown denizens read the New York Times. They usually consider themselves agnostics (what right-minded hippy or academic would allow themselves the foolishness of being religious). And they reserve a special love for Shakespeare. All of his work was taught to them as sacred. They do their homework and laugh and chortle at the appropriate parts (“mender of soles”, indeed!). I believe they were raised to feel a little guilty if they didn’t say something glowing about whatever Shakespeare play they saw. We really should begin performances by saying an “Our Shakespeare, Who Art In Heaven”. In some ways, it is a better outfitted RenFest (Yes, I saw a cloak and dammit I want one too). And a critical thought is nary to be seen.
I was raised by religious who didn’t put much stock in divinity as given. They preferred to begin with reason to see how far it could take you. Mysteries, both secular and religious, did exist, but you didn’t start there. In a related way, I never hopped onto the “Shakespeare is Divine” bus driven by Harold Bloom, of course. The irony is that some Shakespeare scholars (and TreeTowners) would recoil at the analogy. They are still very much reasonable, they would say. But when you see their eyes glaze over when they talk about some scene, anyone who has seen a religious person in the midst of ecstasy would note similarities. To simplify my point, I like some of Shakespeare, even parts of Julius Caesar (Marc Anthony’s speech after Brutus should be in every public speaking textbook), but like the biblical authors Shakespeare, too, had an agenda and all of the work does not bear up to the same standard. Our reward comes from valuing that merit, not merely accepting it.
) but that unfortunately conflicts with the Shakespeare performance. Drat, what fun would it be to observe my neighbors in high drama!