Thursday, August 12, 2010

Much Ado about Shakespeare

Dear Shakespeare,

I love you. I love that you never ONCE say "There are no words to describe how I feel." You always have words.

But you left me more than words.

You left me people. I see myself up there, reflected in those characters and I that frightens me but I don't care. I give the actors the credit they deserve, but you are the one who wrote them there. You gave them people and places to interpret.

You make me miss Elder Hill. Oh, he is Benedick. Benedick is he! I was doing so well at hiding and suppressing everything. I was distracting and stiffening myself until I saw Benedick and Beatrice and Shylock and Pip and Biddy and Portia. Now I'm an emotional catastrophe. I'm emotional and romantic. I watched 2 chick flicks today! (Actually they were rather dull and utterly boring compared to your work, but, after all, romance comes in all colors.)

"Serve God, love me, and mend"

"Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humor? No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married."

There are many more quotes, and I will find them as I reread this play. I am sappy and romantic and tired. And there are shooting stars that are all the easier to see in all the darkness of the country.


No comments: