Last one in a series.

When I was at my aunt’s funeral service and the priest mentioned William Shakespeare, I had no idea what he was going to say next.  There’s so much to choose from!

And with that, here’s my question. You’re attending the service of a family member. Let’s say that you weren’t terribly close to this person, not something where you’re going to be overwhelmingly distraught.  More one of those “obligations we all have to do” sorts of things.  As a niece or a nephew or what have you, you’re asked to say a few words.  You want to bring some Shakespeare into it.

What do you bring?

The grief speech from King John is pretty powerful (“Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,…”) but it’s also not terribly general purpose.  It’s pretty clearly a parent-child thing.

I’m a fan of sonnet 104 (“To me, fair Friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed
Such seems your beauty still.”) At least that opening passage. I think it’s a pretty wonderful picture to paint, especially if you’re talking about someone who’s lived a long life and left many memories.

What else you got?  I’d stay away from most of the Hamlet stuff, it’s just gotten so cliched.  Well, except one that I’ve come to cherish as my own personal meditation over those we’ve lost.

Rest in Peace, Aunt Catherine.  Flights of Angels sing thee to thy rest.

Continuing our series, here’s question #2.  To recap, the priest took the liberty of pulling Antony’s “The evil that men do lives after them…” quote to offer up a sermon on the truth that the good you do really does matter, and that you should strive to have a good life because it really will live after you.  I got his point, I think people appreciated the sermon, I’m not one to be trivial (not matter how much it grates on me when somebody says “Shakespeare was wrong.”  Even if you are a priest I will take you down.)

So the question is this – how do you feel about that?  The “grab a quote and then make it mean what you want it to mean” thing, even if it turns out that you are drastically misinterpreting its original intent?  I’ve seen people rant and rave about overuse of Polonius’ “To thine own self be true” advice. 

On the one hand I appreciate the exposure to Shakespeare. There’s no doubt that people in that audience had never heard that quote, and got a quick lesson.  The problem of course is that the lesson may have left them with a misunderstanding of Shakespeare that who knows what it will take to correct.

Where do you draw the line?  How much of a purist are you about that sort of thing?

I’m torn.  Obviously I’m documenting my experience pretty heavily here, but it’s not like I felt obligated to gather everybody up and give them a lesson in Julius Caesar. Honestly I just don’t think anybody left the service thinking about Shakespeare.  They were thinking about what the priest said about living a good life. And I’m ok with that. If I’d heard anybody muttering about “Wow, Shakespeare was stupid” or “I can’t believe Shakespeare wrote something ridiculous like that,” then I might well have stepped in.

As I mentioned here, the funeral service for my great aunt Catherine brought up a number of Shakespeare questions.  The priest read Antony’s line about “The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones,” and then went on to explain how Shakespeare was wrong, how you should strive to do good in your life because your good deeds will outlive you.

My question to you is, how would you “correct” this interpretation of the line?  Why did Shakespeare have Antony say it?  Imagine you’ve just bumped into somebody who was at that service (my aunt’s, not Caesar’s), who’d never heard this line before and now thinks that “Shakespeare was wrong.”  What would you say to correct this person’s understanding of the passage, in context?

For example I tried to explain to my wife about the complexity of Antony’s situation at that particular moment. He’s been given permission to speak at Caesar’s funeral by the guys that killed Caesar in the first place. It’s not like he can get up there and say that Caesar was an awesome guy and it’s a shame he died.  He has to at least pretend that he agrees with them that Caesar was a bad dude.

So over the holidays a family member passed away, and my wife and I drove down to attend the funeral.  She was elderly and in failing health, so this was not a surprise.

I wasn’t prepared for the Shakespeare sermon.  When the priest said, “A long time ago, a man named William Shakespeare wrote….” and more than a few heads turned and looked at me :).  I perked up, curious.  Which Shakespeare would he be going with?

He continued, “Marc Antony spoke these words over the body of Julius Caesar…”  Really?  “The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones.  So let it be with Caesar.” That’s different.  Great Aunt Catherine was not an assassinated potential dictator, after all.  At least, that I know of.

He then went on to focus his sermon on how Shakespeare was wrong, and how the good that you do in your life does live after you, and it’s the bad stuff that should be put to rest.

I get his point. He spotted a line that gave him a launching point for what he wanted to say, and he snipped it out of context. No matter how much the words “Shakespeare was wrong” grate on me, I’m not going to debate with the priest on what Antony’s true feelings were toward Caesar.

That’s what this forum is for. 🙂

I have at least three different questions coming out of that service, and I think it’s only fair to post them separately so that conversations don’t all stomp all over each other.  Look for posts to follow shortly.

Tough day yesterday all around.

I have a habit at my day job of wandering around and juggling when I need to get up from the desk.  So I did so, wandering over to a coworker’s desk as I often do. 

“I’ve seen that trick,” she says. “I feel like you should sing or something while you do that, step up the difficulty.”

“Why would you want to hear me sing? You’ve not wronged me in any way, I wouldn’t want to subject you to that,” I reply.

“Then quote Shakespeare or something.”

I’d like to think that I missed no beats before replying, “When it disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state.  And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries and look upon myself and curse my fate…,” all while still juggling.

“What does bootless mean?” she asks.

“Umm….ah….hmmm…”

“I can’t believe I picked up on the one word you don’t know the definition for.  I’m disappointed.”

And with that, my Shakespeare cred took quite the hit and I looked stupid.

But, damnit, isn’t it missing the point to pick out an individual word and say “Quick! define this out of context!” I’m not even sure what the right answer is to that.  Bootless cries means what, exactly – “my cries that have nothing behind them”?  “My cries that go unheard”?  She wasn’t asking for a translation of the text I’d just spoken, she zeroes in on one word. Besides, isn’t that what the “deaf heaven” part is for?  (The best translation that I’ve found says that I could have said “useless.”  Bootless cries are useless cries, because heaven’s not listening.)

Between losing that cred with my coworkers, and learning that I won’t get to teach the kids, it wasn’t a great day I tell ya.