esrosedotblog

Look, I hate, fucking hate, Shakespeare.

I always have and, it appears, I always will.

It is wordy, prolix, filled with odd points of view and despite the scholars' and popularizers' claims to the contrary it is well nigh incomprehensible.

And here it all comes again.

Shakespeare in Modern English?

I know. I am swimming totally upstream here. I always have.

The deal is not so much about intelligibility although that is an issue. The issue is more that while he was certainly good at what he did (*if it was one him and not some other guy) it is one body of work from one particular time (yes I know about the historical plays that cover other periods) and it is b-o-r-i-n-g on the page. And usually dead on the stage.

Why is this? Because it can not carry its own weight. And myriad other reasons.

I know this is a losing battle for me. But I always get a lift when I find other eggheads who agree with me.

I suppose it is partly due to my innate rebelliousness and disgust with people who like things because they are supposed to. Pretension. Oneupmanship. And so on.

I will not convert anyone here. Merely confirm for the occasionally sympathetic reader that they are not alone.

There is someone else on this earth who has not bought into the prevailing "wisdom" and/or who cannot abide this Elizabethan horseshit.

Sorry, I can't stop. I have already revealed myself to some as a provincial. A dumb-ass.

And, so, fuck you too if you think so.

Hostile, huh?

Yup. That is right where "the Bard" takes me. Into the fight or flight syndrome.

I won't even mention the "thees and thous". Forsooth.

Labels: intellectuals