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.”

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 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.”)

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?

In a completely unrelated thread over on Reddit about what movies piss you off for their inaccuracies, somebody brought up Romeo and Juliet (odd, really, in that his complaint was about the actual story and not about any sort of inaccurate movie portrayal).

Anyway, check out the thread that follows off that comment, where not one but multiple users get into discussion about the role of Fate, lust, parents (and adults in general) not doing their job to protect the children from their own young stupidity, and others. 

I love how spontaneously a thread like that just pops up out of nowhere. I spent so much time on answer boards going over the same questions about the Queen Mab speech and the foreshadowing of death that it’s nice to see people on their own explaining what the play means to them, even if they didn’t like it and/or disagree with how it was taught to them. Yay!