My Brownie Adventure

So yesterday, I’m happy to say, was my first official “Stand up in front of a group of children not my own, and talk about Shakespeare.”  Long time readers will know that I’ve had a number of false starts along this path, ranging from the time I read The Tempest to a bunch of first graders, to the time that the school principal shot down my plans to stage Dream among the second graders.

This time we went informal – my 7yr old daughter’s Brownie (small Girl Scout) troop, which in this instance numbered just 4 girls.  5, if you count my older daughter who hangs out and keeps herself busy.  6, if you count my boy.

Yesterday I posted The Plan.  Aren’t you just dying to know how it went?

So, I bring with me a bust of Shakespeare and my pop-up Globe theatre.  Spend some time talking about who Shakespeare was, when he lived, what he did.  I make a timeline on the board, showing them events that they know — Abraham Lincoln, Columbus, Pilgrims — and where Shakespeare was on that spectrum.

We then get into Talk Like Shakespeare.  I try to give some examples of the whole thee/thou, ist/wast, stuff like that, but I have no good examples.  I tried to pull some modern song lyrics that we could “Shakespeareize”, but I was stuck in that world of not knowing what’s appropriate for other people’s children, so I had to punt on that one.  I used some simple examples (“Shakespeare would not have had someone say Good morning, how are you today?  He would have had somebody say An excellent morrow to you good mistress!  How art thou this fine morn?”)

This led to the first game.  I really hyped on the whole “flowery” language thing, and how you would never just toss out one or two words when you could use a bunch and really sell it.  I have brought with me a hand made version of “The Compliment Game”, which is kid-safe version of the more infamous Insult Kit.  I’ve taken a deck of index cards and written a word on each.  Each card is then labelled A/B/C on both front and back.  I spread out the entire deck (30 cards, total) on the floor around us and tell the kids that the rules are to pick up an A, B and C card, then pick one of your troopmates, start with “Thou”, and then pay them a compliment.  Don’t just read the cards, really sell it.  Pour it on.

They loved this, found it ridiculously silly.  My daughter was called a pigeon-egg and had no idea how that was supposed to be a compliment.  My other daughter called me a wafer-cake and thought this was just hysterical.  Some of the words were beyond their reading ability, but that didn’t stop them from simply asking me to read it.

Definitely a hit, as we went through one round, and they immediately wanted to go again and again until all the cards were used up.  We even had an odd number left and I had to bring in my older daughter to read that one, so that we could keep it fair and not have somebody left with an extra turn.

I then talk about how Shakespeare went ahead and just made up words as he needed them, and show them the word search puzzle I made for them to play with. Since I’d specifically been told to keep them up and active I treat this like “Here’s something for you to take home.”

This all leads into a discussion of rhyme and meter (after all, why did Shakespeare go through so much trouble to shuffle words around and make up new ones?  Because he needed them to fit a specific pattern).

So I break out my bigger game.  I’ve taken three famous speeches from three famous plays — Juliet’s balcony scene, the witches spell from Macbeth, and Puck’s closing of Dream.  I’ve printed them out onto refrigerator magnet sheets, and cut them into strips.  I then give the kids the pile of lines, describe the three plays, and tell them to separate the lines into the logical piles.  “Juliet’s speech is all about names, and about how things still have value even if you don’t call them by the same words that everybody else does…..Macbeth’s witches are whipping up a disgusting witches potion, so look for ingredients that might go into it … Puck is a fairy who tells the audience that i they didn’t like the play, they should just think that they dreamed it, so you want to look for words about dreaming, or about forgiveness.”

This was the most active bit of the class, with all the girls up at the magnetic white board, reading the strips and trying to move them into the right categories.  Some were easy (“eye of newt?”), some were hard (“Take all myself”).  Best moment for me came when one girl read aloud, “By the pricking of my thumbs….oh, wait! I saw something…..Something wicked this way comes. Those must go together.”

*shiver*  Yes, my wonderful child, yes they do.  Of all the lines to pop out of this exercise, it had to be that one?  I love it.  That line is already spine tingling as it is.

(Side note — when speaking of Macbeth I went ahead and told them about the curse, and the Scottish Play.  How if an actor says the M word inside a theatre, the other actors will take him away and he has to perform a magic spell to break the curse so nothing bad happens.  First they wanted to know if this was true, and I said absolutely.  Then they wanted to know what the magic spell was to break the curse, and I said I don’t know, I’m not an actor.  But that I had in fact seen an actor say Macbeth in a theatre back in college, and I did indeed see his fellow actors take him away to perform the rite.)

This game was too big and too long, unfortunately.  I probably could have gotten by with one speech at a time (scrambled), rather than trying to separate three.  They started to lose interest toward the end.

So then I broke out my Complete Works and began reading the originals, so that they could see how close they came.  Actually they did very well, at least in terms of which lines went with which play.  Very hard to get them in the right order without a great deal of context.

I tried to do some acting – got one girl to volunteer to be Juliet, had her stand on a table/balcony, and then borrowed my son to be Romeo, hiding him behind a bookcase with instructions to yell “Here I am, Juliet!” when she was done.

Unfortunately this is where I lost them.  I’ve got one girl reciting, one girl listening, but then the other two drifted off to draw on the whiteboard.  Oh, well.

The witches spell was a little better, because I made them all interact.  We all stood in a circle, holding hands and chanting doing one line at a time (chorus on the “Double doubles”).  I insisted that everybody give it their best witches’ cackle, and for the most part they played along.  One girl did say that this was her favorite, and that she wanted that speech to use at Halloween.  (Interestingly enough?  Same girl that spotted the Something wicked…. line initially.  She’s going to be a dark one when she grows up :))

At this point we were running long so I just read Puck’s speech, but their attention spans were shot.  My wife suggested that maybe they could sit down and work on the puzzle, which is what we did, and that became the “wind down until the end of class” project.  Again, though – a big hit. I had not fully appreciated how an entire group of kids will tear into a puzzle, comparing notes and sharing information.

Overall?  Glad to have done it.  Need to come better prepared with actual notes about what to talk about next time – you can’t wing that sort of thing, it comes off as really unprepared.  Games and activities have to be kept relatively simple – the compliment game and the word search scored big, the unscrambling of speeches started out strong but ended weak.

I plan to take this experience and roll it in to working with my older daughter’s Girl Scout troop.  they are 9-10yr olds, and there are *18* of them.  Holy Toledo.  I’ve already said we’re going to jump straight in to acting with them.  I’ve got a number of kid-friendly versions of the plays to try out.  That seems the best approach for a group that size and age.

Brownie Shakespeare (The Plan)

So this story broke on Twitter a couple weeks ago.  My wife runs a troop of Brownies (think “small Girl Scouts” if the term is unfamiliar) for my 7yr old daughter.  Last week her plans were scrapped due to rain, and she spontaneously said “Want to do some Shakespeare with them?”

Yes.
Cue mad scramble for teaching materials that I could use with a small (5 kids) group of 7yr old girls.  I literally had like less than half a day to whip something up.
End result of that little rush was that she came up with a backup backup plan and I was off the hook for such short notice – with plans to reschedule for the next meeting.
And here’s the next meeting, tomorrow afternoon!
Thanks to everybody on email and Twitter who sent suggestions.  Here’s the rough outline I’ve got planned:
* Introduce who Shakespeare was and give some quick history / bio stuff.  Born 400 years ago, Globe Theatre, that sort of thing.  Show props.  I have a number of Shakespeare toys, including a pop-up book with the Globe in it.
* Explain the rules of “Talk Like Shakespeare”.  Thee thy thou, that sort of thing.  I’d love to play some sort of game of taking modern song lyrics and Shakespearizing them, but I don’t have any good examples handy.  (Note to self, register the domain name “shakespearize.com” 🙂 )
* Explain, very broadly, the coolness factor involved in writing a full length play that is also a really big poem.  Seque into iambic pentameter, the whole “stand your sentence on its head so you can make the rhyme come out”, that sort of thing.
* Break out my game.  What I did was to go get some sheets of printable refrigerator magnet, and print some well known speeches (“Wherefore art thou, Romeo?” / “If we shadows have offended…” / “Double double toil and trouble…”) onto them.  Then I cut them up into strips.  I explain to the kids the general idea of the three speeches (“One is spoken by Juliet about her new boyfriend Romeo”, “One is a magic spell cast by the witches”, “One comes from the ending of a play where a fairy comes out to talk to the audience.”)  Then we work on reassembling the speeches, and when we have them right, we act them out.
I expect that, even with the explanation of the speeches, they’ll need a lot of help.  I’m thinking about possibly breaking out my First Folio and using it like a big hint (“Does that sound right? Let’s check…The Book.”)
If I have time between now and then, I’ve got extra sheets of magnet so I’m going to print off some do it yourself “Shakespeare refrigerator poetry” to let them take home.
My plan, obviously, is to keep some level of speaking it without having to rely entirely on acting it.  I expect such a small group of such young kids won’t immediately warm to the idea of playing roles (especially if they have to spout lovey romantic stuff to each other).  But I didn’t want to do sonnets because I though those were too far removed from the idea of plot and character.  I can explain each of the three speeches from inside the play.  There are little hiccups – like discovering that there’s 1 line in Juliet’s speech that has 12 syllables instead of 10, but I think we can work around that.
I will let everybody know how it goes!  

How The Feud Started (Guest Post)

David Blixt has got so many Shakespearean irons in the fire that I don’t even know how to start summarizing him, so I’ll just let his press bio do it: Author and actor, director and playwright, David Blixt’s work is consistently described as “intricate,” “taut,” and “breathtaking.” As an actor, he is devoted to Shakespeare. As a writer of Historical Fiction, his Shakespeare-related novels span the early Roman Empire (the COLOSSUS series, his play EVE OF IDES) to early Renaissance Italy (the STAR-CROSS’D series, including THE MASTER OF VERONA, VOICE OF THE FALCONER, and FORTUNE’S FOOL) up through the Elizabethan era (his delightful espionage comedy HER MAJESTY’S WILL, starring Will Shakespeare and Kit Marlowe as inept spies). His novels combine a love of the theatre with a deep respect for the quirks and passions of history. As the Historical Novel Society said, “Be prepared to burn the midnight oil. It’s well worth it.”


Living in Chicago with his wife and two children, David describes himself as “actor, author, father, husband. In reverse order.”
What long time readers may also realize is that David’s been one of the earliest contributors to Shakespeare Geek, for instance in this August 2008 post about how Romeo and Juliet is actually “a comedy where people die.”
David has a literary (but not literal!) avalanche of new content coming out this week, and he’s offered some it here for a sneak peek.  I’ve chosen something from a piece that I’m somewhat familiar with, as it is integral to the plot of The Master of Verona,  David’s earlier novel, which I reviewed:


I
clearly didn’t need Lady Montague for the final scene – her husband just told
us she’s dead. I flipped back to find her last scene. She’s listed as entering
in Act Three, Scene Four, when Mercutio and Tybalt both buy it – but she’s
strangely quiet in that scene. Lord Capulet, too, but at least people talk to
him. No one addresses Romeo’s mom, even when her son is banished. In fact,
looking at it harder, Lady Montague hasn’t been heard from since Act One, Scene
One, in which she uttered a mere two lines! 

So
this was my quandary – do I cut Montague’s lines at the end of the show? Why
not? Here we are, the play is basically over. We’ve just watched the two
romantic leads die pitiably, and young, kind, noble Paris croak it as well. Why
do we care if some woman we barely remember is dead? 

But
it continued to bother me. There had to be a reason she was dead. 

Of
course, in Shakespeare’s day, there was a very good reason. The actor who
played Lady Montague was probably needed in another role – the exigencies of
the stage. Even realizing this, though, I couldn’t let go of the line. My wife is dead tonight. The rules of
dramatic structure nagged at me. A death like that is supposed to be symbolic.
But of what? Clueless, I shrugged and finished the cuts. I left the line in,
hoping my actors could figure it out. 

In
the event, they didn’t have to. I was going about my business later that week
when it hit me – the Feud! The thing that gets closure at the end of the show
is the feud. Montague and Capulet bury the hatchet. They’re even going to build
statues to honor their dead kids.
Could
Lady Montague’s death be symbolic of the end of the feud? The only way that
could work would be – If she were the cause of the feud. I
remember stopping dead in my tracks as the idea took form – a love triangle a
generation earlier, between the parents! Romeo’s mother, engaged to a young
Capulet, runs off with a young Montague instead. That’s certainly cause for a
feud, especially if young Capulet and Montague were friends. Best friends,
childhood friends, torn apart by their love for a woman. A feud, born of love,
dies with love. 

What do you think of that idea?  David’s told me that he’ll be around, so leave some comments and see if you can’t get some discussion going!  If you like this sort of interaction with the author we can do it with more excerpts from his other works as well.  Maybe next time some Macbeth?

For more information on these and all of David’s other works, please visit his Amazon author page.

How Old Is Your Favorite Character

How old is Romeo? remains the most popular post on this site, by a long shot.  Every day I land hundreds upon hundreds of people looking for the answer to this question.  (The answer, by the way, is “Despite saying that Juliet is 13, Shakespeare never specifically says how old Romeo is so it’s up to your own interpretation.”)

How old is Hamlet? is also a big search result.  He’s either 30 or 16, depending on how you prefer to interpret the gravedigger’s speech.  I think the evidence is stronger for 30, myself, but I don’t think the character behaves like a 30yr old.
Pick another one.  For which other character in which other play do you think that pinning down an exact age is a big part of understanding that character?  I saw an As You Like It once where I felt that Rosalind, an otherwise strong character who ties the entire play together, was reduced to (literally) a giggling school girl who was too much with the “OMG! Orlando looked at me!!!” stuff.  I never thought of her as *that* young, but I never really tried to pin an age on her, either.  Late teens, early 20’s?
(For the pedants out there I’m obviously not trying to an *exact* age.  I don’t think that it matters if Romeo is 18 or 19, but I do think there’s a difference if he’s 13 or 18.  I don’t worry about whether Polonius is 65 or 66, but you could probably make a case for different behaviors depending on whether he’s 55 or 85.  Like that.)

What Do You Love Most?

About once a year or so I get stuck in a rut where, for a variety of reasons, Mr. Shakespeare takes a backseat. You may have noticed the site not being updated as frequently as it has in the past.  For that, I apologize. I’m trying to fix that.  It’s just that, for the moment, my heart’s not in it.  And I hate that.  If your heart’s not in something then quite literally anybody can write on any topic, because they aren’t personally invested in the quality of the outcome. I’ve never been that guy.

So, along with my semi-yearly rut comes my semi-yearly reset where I try to get my head back in the game.  Spring’s a good time to do that.

I think we can all agree that the topic of “Shakespeare” is a pretty deep one.  Infinite, even.  We’ve been talking about it for 400 years and we’re not slowing down.  You can, easily, devote your full time life to the topic.  Maybe people do.

Alas, I don’t.  It’s never been my lot in life.  I’m neither an academic nor a theatrical type.  My relationship with Shakespeare is an entirely personal and voluntary one.

Every now and then I like to look at the big picture and then focus in a bit.  I have to realize that I can’t encompass the whole thing. Once upon a time I was the only Shakespeare blog out there.  Now I’m bombarded daily by dozens of sites covering dozens of angles on dozens of stories, and I can’t keep up.  I have to pick what I want to talk about.  Which means I have to take a step back and look at what’s most important to me.

Hence my question.  What is it about Shakespeare that you love most?  No fair saying “All of it.”  Pretend, if you must, that you’re doing your graduate thesis.  You have to pick a topic.  Maybe it’s the history and politics of the period that you love most, and you search Shakespeare’s works for clues to that topic.  Maybe it’s the poetry, and you’ll argue for hours over why a certain line ends on an unstressed syllable and what that means for what Shakespeare was trying to say.

For me I guess you could say that it’s about the psychology of the characters.  Yesterday a coworker told me how he was trying to help a teenage relative study the “To be or not to be” speech, and how she just plain didn’t get it, how she had to slice and dice it up into pieces because she was running to the glossary for every other word. And all I could think to say to be helpful was, “To understand that speech, you have to put yourself in Hamlet’s place and understand what he’s feeling, and then it will start to make more sense, even if you don’t technically understand every single word.”

This is also why I teach Shakespeare to my kids the way that I do, by constantly taking it from the angle of the character – “Here’s this character, here’s what happened to him, here’s what he thought and felt about it, and here’s what he did about it.”

There’s a bunch of reasons for this.  One obvious one is that I can have an opinion on this level, and back it up.  I can’t dissect syllables and compare editorial punctuation differences.  I know that those things go to the big picture, no question. I know that you can get a great deal of character info about Lady Macbeth based on how you choose to punctuate her “We fail!” line.  I’m ok with that. I’m ok with going back and changing “here’s what she thought and felt about it” to “here’s one way to interpret how she thought and felt about it.”  That’s one of the ways I get an infinite amount of stories out of it.  Same things happened to the same people, but the deeper you look, the more ways you can find to spin it.

Another obvious reason is that I think this is the best way to teach kids.  I’m not going on another diatribe about this, we’ve covered the topic frequently.  I’ll just say that I am living the experiment of demonstrating that even a 3 yr old can understand what happens in Hamlet or Romeo and Juliet.  If they can then get a 10+ year headstart on “going deep” by the time they get to high school? Imagine how far along they’ll be.

I was about to write some more about how this also ties into the timelessness of Shakespeare and how still to this day you can have a My Own Private Idaho or a Lion King and
have people recognize them as Shakespeare without any original text, because Shakespeare drew the roadmap for who those characters are and what they do. But this is getting long and the day job calls.

So, I’ll let others talk.  Given an infinite subject like ours, where’s your focus? What do you love most?