We’ve been doing the sonnets lately, and I happened to see a reference to #73 today on Twitter.  So, why not? That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish’d by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
  Honestly I’ve never even looked at this one until now, so any analysis here is off the top of my head.  Disclaimer, I might be totally incorrect! When we talked about “forty winters” we saw that Shakespeare deliberately chose certain seasons to paint the picture he wants.  So, what season is he talking about the openly lines? Brilliantly he doesn’t just say it, he describes it: “that time of year when a few yellow leaves are left on the trees, whose branches shake in the cold wind.”  Sounds like autumn to me.  What’s more, it puts you right there.  Who hasn’t woken up one cold fall morning to exactly that feeling?  There are times (particularly for those of us here in foliage heavy New England) where you can look forward to fall – the changing colors, the coming holidays, the start of school, seeing friends you haven’t seen in months.  But on more mornings than not, you’re most likely thinking “Blah, summer’s over and pretty soon it’s going to be winter.” This sonnet is fairly depressing in that respect.  The poet is telling the “fair youth”, “This is how you see me – as a man in the autumn of my life.”  Someone who is going to die one day.  The whole sonnet is like that, actually.  “I remind you of sunsets, and the coming darkness of night.  In me you see the ashes that remain of what was once the fire of youth.” The whole thing sounds pretty self serving, like the poet was having a bad day.  It’s not like he’s saying “You called me old” or even “I can see on your face how you think of me.”  Everything the poet says about “this is what you think” is really, “this is what I think you think.”  In other words, “This is what I think of myself and I’m projecting that onto you.  I am upset about my own age and wasted youth.” If there is an optimistic bit here, it comes in the last two lines:  “You see in me what it means to get old, it makes you appreciate your own youth more because you know that you too will have to give it up someday.” What I find unusual, and I’m sure my experts will enlighten me on this one, is that there’s no reference to the relationship between the two men.   The poet never says why the youth would see him any differently than any other individual.  At first I thought that the love reference in the second to last line referred to the love of the youth for the poet, but in context it does not, it refers to a love on one’s fleeting youth. …and you know what?  As I read that it looks like it could well refer to the poet.  “Your feelings for me are stronger because you realize now that I’m not going to be around forever.”    That’s enough from me, for now.   Let’s see if this one gets as much chatter as the iambic pentameter one 🙂

Twice this week I heard stories about people pulling a quote from Shakespeare and using it to make a point that almost certainly was way off base from what the original intended.  But interesting conversation is always good, no? The first (thanks, amusings_bnl!) was this one:

To thine own self be true.

Everybody knows that one, right?  Apparently when looked at from the right angle, it could also mean something like this:  “As long as you think it’s ok, then go ahead and do it.”  That in turn opens up the whole interpretation of living a selfish life, only looking out for #1, and so on.  The other one I just saw on Twitter, where somebody posted:

Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!

Apparently making a statement about the state of the world today.  In this case I pointed out that in context, the “devils” really turn out to be spirit Ariel, who in fact is watching over them and does not let them come to any harm at all.  So perhaps someone with a religious bone in their body (not really my strong suit) could run with that, make some bolder statements about God and how things around us that look like darkest days actually turn out ok?  Sitting here right now I could actually imagine the priest doing that topic as a sermon on Sunday morning.  And I might actually listen :). Got any others?  Pick a quote and argue that it means what you want it to mean.

The recent conversation on iambic pentameter got me thinking about how we approach “Shakespeare”. I say it like that for a reason, because it really means two things – the man, and the work. We don’t say “the stuff Shakespeare wrote”, we just call the whole body of work “Shakespeare.”  Or, “to study Shakespeare.” But sometimes, such as the iambic discussion, the line blurs – when are you talking about the work, and when about the man, and can you draw a line between the two? Let me put it like this.  When I look at the plays, I almost always envision the characters are real people, and speak of them that way – what did Hamlet mean by this, what happened to Ophelia’s mother, did Gertrude know what Claudius did?  Likewise with the sonnets (here and here) I try to see them for their narrative (oh, Carl will love me for this…).  Maybe that’s a bad term, though, because I’m not talking about the story told by the entire sequence.  I’m talking about the picture that is painted, much like how you could see a work of art hanging on a wall and somehow feel that you could climb right inside it and stand next to the characters, have a conversation with them. Very rarely do I stop and think “Shakespeare chose this word and this punctuation for this purpose.” Sure, I do that when I’m trying to explain something to someone, as those linked posts show.  But for my own enjoyment I don’t, you know what I mean?  The sum is greater than its parts, maybe that’s how I want to say it.  I agree completely that because he chose the words and punctuation he did, that the whole work manages to explode into a whole new universe for us to explore.    But rather than studying the parts I study the whole, does that make sense? Maybe it doesn’t, I don’t know.  It’s what’s in my head right now.  I see everybody getting excited about the tricks and techniques Shakespeare used to emphasize certain syllables for certain reasons, and why there’s a full stop here but not there, and it’s like the excitement is more about the brilliance of the man, than the final product. So which is it with you?  When you speak of love for “Shakespeare” are you talking about the man or the work?  I won’t say which came first because that makes no sense, but which *comes* first, for you?  Which is greater? Somebody jump in here, I’m rambling.

I love it when I get to give away books!  This time my new friends at Sourcebooks Shakespeare (read my review here) have offered to give one of their books – your choice! – away to  *2*  ShakespeareGeek readers.  Their list of titles includes:  A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Othello, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Much Ado About Nothing, The Tempest, Richard III, and Macbeth.  (Disclaimer : I am taking that list from Amazon, I do not know for certain that all of their titles are currently in print, perhaps Marie or someone else from Sourcebooks can chime in with additional info.  I reserve the right to update this post, including contest rules, in case I’ve said something that is not in line with my benefactor’s original expectations). If you don’t feel like clicking over to my review, let me sum it up for you.  These books, while still containing a very well edited and formatted copy of the play, focus heavily on the play’s performance.  Over half the book is dedicated to images from the movies (as well as stage performances), detailed descriptions of various key scene interpretations, editor’s notes about what’s going on at that moment and why, plus the traditional glossary of terms (conveniently placed on each page right where you need it, and not in the back where you have to keep flipping for it).  That’s not even getting to the audio CD that accompanies each book.   First you read a scene from Hamlet, and then maybe you hear how Sir Derek Jacobi reads it? Hmm?  How’s that sound?  Sounds *awesome*, that’s how it sounds. Since I met Marie on Twitter, we thought it would be fun to hold the giveaway that way as well.  And since a certain well-known playwright’s birthday is coming up later this month, we might as well make that the big giveaway day. CONTEST RULES 1) Follow @ShakespeareGeek on Twitter.  I’ll need to be able to message you in case you win.  In case it wasn’t obvious, you have to be willing to provide a mailing address so we can actually send the book.  2) As the saying goes, “retweet” this specific link, swapping in the name of the book you’d prefer if you win.  You don’t have to call it “my favorite play” or anything, I just need to keep track of who is voting for which books.  Please do not just RT the main blog post, my filters may not pick it up if you do that. 3) That’s it!  I’ll keep track of contest entries and then choose 2 randomly from those received by midnight (EST), April 22.  That meaning the midnight at the close of 4/22, before 4/23, lest there be any confusion. 4) Winners will be notified by Twitter direct message (DM) so please make sure you keep that channel open and check it regularly, at least until contest winners are announced on the blog. PLEASE DO NOT FORGET STEP TWO!  It helps me separate folks who want to participate in the contest from those who are just becoming new followers.  If I add every new follower into the contest it drastically lowers your chances of winning.

LVIII

That god forbid, that made me first your slave,
I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,
Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure!
O! let me suffer, being at your beck,
The imprison'd absence of your liberty;
And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each check,
Without accusing you of injury. 
Be where you list, your charter is so strong
That you yourself may privilage your time
To what you will; to you it doth belong
Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime.
  I am to wait, though waiting so be hell,
  Not blame your pleasure be it ill or well.

Somebody want to break those opening lines (most notably 2,4,6,7) down for me so they fit iambic pentameter?  I can’t figure it out.