I always bookmark and retweet articles like this one that offers Three Reasons Why Shakespeare Remains Relevant. I am unabashedly biased on this question, and as long as there are people asking *if* he is relevant, then I’ll be there to post as many answers to the question as I can put my hands on.

But … I don’t like this lady’s answers.  Her three reasons:

1) Adaptability.  Great so you’re saying that his staying power comes from the fact that whatever parts we don’t like, we can just change or omit? I guess I get the point, that there is an underlying foundation to Shakespeare’s work that is not found in the details.  But, still … it seems weird to say that he’s still relevant because you can change the parts you don’t think are relevant.

2) Popular Touch. This one I just flat out disagree with. I’d say that an equal number of people would cite to you all the kings and queens and royal courts and say, “People these days don’t want to watch a play about that.”  True, you can adapt a story by turning the king into a mob boss or family patriarch, but still, once again, you end up arguing that Shakespeare is relevant because of the parts that you can take it upon yourself to make up out of whole cloth.

3) Great Publicity.  Well, I mean, I suppose.  It’s kind of weird that she uses the existence of the First Folio as the prime example, and doesn’t really mention David Garrick.  Just the fact that Shakespeare’s works were published in Folio was not enough by itself to catapult him to the godlike status he enjoys today.

So let me ask you, then – why is Shakespeare relevant to you? How do you, personally, answer the question?

For me it’s more about the universality(?) of the work. By that I mean that all around the world, for the last several hundred years, most of the people on the planet have had something in common, whether they knew it or not. If I have seen Much Ado About Nothing, and you have seen Much Ado About Nothing, then there is a certain bond that exists between us that can be turned into something more. It does not matter if you live in the same country as I do, speak the same language, or if you’re twenty years younger or older.  It’s like a constant against which all things are relative. It’s a building block.

Make sense? Back in high school I learned a bit of Esperanto.  Anybody familiar with it? Esperanto is a language invented by L.L. Zamenhoff around one hundred years ago.  He thought that if the entire world had a universal neutral language, that cultural boundaries would dissolve. You could start to share literature. You could travel all around the world, and always be able to speak the language. There would be no burden of “my country is more powerful, therefore if you expect to deal with me, you will learn to speak my language rather than me learning to speak yours” (I’m looking at you, english).

Shakespeare’s like that.  Remember last year when The Globe did all the plays in all different languages? There you go.

P.S. – I also happen to own a copy of Hamlet translated into Esperanto by Doctor Zamenhoff himself.  Apparently he too believed that our beloved Shakespeare could serve as a Rosetta Stone for achieving his dream.

My daughter is starting to look at private schools, and I’m trying very hard to let her drive it at her own pace and not be one of those dads that asks all the questions. So I’m picking my spots on when and how to bring up Shakespeare.

The typical pattern, for context, is that you’re assigned a current student who shows you around campus and answers questions, both from the child as well as the parents. Then you sit down for a more formal interview — first your child goes in, then the parents.

School #1:  One of the biggest and best in our area, and probably her first choice.  We’re shown the theatre and are told that there’s a fall musical, as well as a drama production. I scan the posters on the wall and see Midsummer Night’s Dream.

I ask, “What sort of drama productions do you do?”

“Oh, all kinds,” our guide tells me.

“Any Shakespeare?” I ask.  “I saw the Midsummer Night’s Dream poster back there.”

“Oh we do a whole variety of shows,” she tells me.  “Most recently we did this one play called Columbina, I think it was?”

For a second I think she’s actually trying to say “Coriolanus”, which would have impressed the dickens out of me.  But alas she is not, she’s talking about a modern piece that I have to assume was about the events of a post-Columbine world.

Afterward I learn that my daughter is even more forward that I am, and during her interview asked, “Do you have any Shakespeare classes?”  That’s my girl!  She gets the answer that there will be some Shakespeare, yes. There are not dedicated classes, but it’s covered in the English classes.  Which I guess is the best I can expect.

School #2: We’re going around, I’m looking to pick my spot. I have learned from the first school the general pattern of how these things go and the terms to watch out for, so I’m waiting for her to bring up whatever performing arts programs they offer in case Shakespeare comes up organically.

We’re walking through the visual arts area and the guide is going on about various offerings, and I’m only half paying attention when I hear “…blah blah blah, blah blah Shakespeare blah.”  (She wasn’t really saying blah, I just don’t know the context of what she was saying.)

I lift up my head and it appears to me like my wife and daughter are now looking at me, to see if I caught the Shakespeare reference.  But the girl has not stopped talking, so I’m playing it all back in my head to figure out if I can guess.  I can’t.

“Did you just say Shakespeare?” I ask.

She looks confused.  “I….don’t think so,” she says.

I look at my wife and daughter, who also look confused. I have apparently imagined this entire thing.

Tour guide takes a moment to run back in her head everything she did say, because now she’s wondering why I would randomly have brought up Shakespeare in the middle of the visual arts building, but nope, Shakespeare apparently has not come up.  “We’re big Shakespeare fans in my house,” I tell her, trying to cover the awkwardness, “So whenever somebody mentions Shakespeare I tend to whip around and look to see where it came from. Guess it was a false alarm.”

That was literally the only Shakespeare reference at this school. My daughter doesn’t even remember if she asked about it.

School #3:  Big school, many buildings, lots of kids moving around in all directions.  We are in the arts building and walking up a flight of stairs when we pass two male students, one of whom is clearly carrying a jester’s hat and a sword. A legit metal sword.

Wondering if it’s perhaps a Renaissance Festival kind of thing, or maybe they have Society for Creative Anachronism on campus, I ask our guide, “Ok, are we going to find out why that guy’s walking around with a sword? I have to know.”

So she flags him down.  “David!  This gentleman wanted to know why you have a sword.”

He says something to her that I don’t hear because she’s had to open a door and follow him into a hallway, but he’s coming back with her when she returns.  “Performance project,” she says.

One of the boys explains, “It’s a great class. Our teacher Mr. <whatever> assigns parts and then you have to act them out in class.”

“So,” I ask, “What are you performing?”

“Hamlet,” they say.

I turn to my daughter.  “We’re done,” I tell her.  “You’re going here.”  I explain that Shakespeare is huge in our house and we’re very excited to hear them say that.  I ask what part specifically they’ll be performing.

“Today,” says one boy, “I will be killing Polonius,” motioning to the other boy.

“Great scene,” I tell them.

“Act 3,” says Polonius, and I wonder whether he knows the scene number and has just forgotten it. That’s ok because on the fly I’m not sure I’d remember the exact scene either.

I’m seriously tempted to sit and have a discussion with them, because honestly I think that the best part of that scene is Hamlet’s confrontation with Gertrude, but they don’t have a Gertrude with them so I’m temporarily at a loss as to what to say next.  “Break a leg,” I say, and we carry on the scene.

Not ten seconds later I’m playing the scene in my head and decide that what I should have said was, “How now, a rat? Dead, for a ducat! Dead!”  Then that made me think of those episodes of the Cosby Show where Theo has to do his Shakespeare homework and magically all of the dinner guests his parents have invited over just happen to have the play memorized and begin reciting the big scenes.  In other words, cool in my head, but nerdy and embarrassing out loud. 🙂

Next time, though, for sure 🙂

I’ve long been a Pink Floyd fan. I may have mentioned that. My kids know Sonnet 18 because David Gilmour’s solo version of that sonnet set to music used to be my ringtone.

So when Pink Floyd references show up in my Shakespeare feed I double check to see what’s up. And then somebody says “Hey remember when Tom Stoppard wrote a play set to the music of Dark Side of the Moon?” and I’m all, “wait..what?”

http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/theater/ct-darkside-pink-floyd-play-in-chicago-20150917-story.html 

Anybody know this “Darkside” play?  I’m looking into it now. Never heard of it.