Loyal readers may remember a post I made last summer called “Illustrating Shakespeare with Paper” about the new “Signature Shakespeare” series from Barnes and Noble.  Well the kind folks at Sterling Publishing (a wholly-owned subsidiary of Barnes and Noble) were generous enough to send me all *4* different editions (Hamlet, Much Ado, Romeo and Juliet and Macbeth) and I’M GIVING THEM AWAY!

I’ve got Romeo and Juliet here in front of me.  These are serious volumes, hardcover, weighing in at almost 400 pages.  These are the kind of books that make you think about the old days where you’d have an entire bookshelf with nothing but volumes of the encyclopedia.  How cool would that be, just a shelf consisting of beautiful hardcover illustrated editions of all the plays?  Want.

Do you know what these are?  These are essentially textbooks you might carry around in support of your college class.  There’s a good 50 pages of introductory material to lead off, and then we dig patiently into the play itself, spread out with one page of notes/glossary for every page of text (where there’s not enough to note, you get illustrations ;))  The scenes themselves are presented patiently, with ample wide space for easy reading.  Act 3 Scene 1, as a random example, spreads itself out over 20 pages.

Over and above the ample notes distributed throughout the text, there’s an additional “Longer Notes” section in the appendix, as well as essays on how the text has been edited over the years.  (These are of course notes about a single edition, but I am assuming that the series all take a similar structure).

What catches everybody’s eye, however, is the illustrations.  It’s not even fair to call them mere illustrations, because what they’ve done here is to take the artwork of Kevin Stanton and produce laser-cut multicolor versions that really have to be seen to be appreciated (there are images at the above link to the artist’s web page).  Haven’t we all folded up a piece of paper, make a few cutouts, and produced snowflakes?  Now imagine that a snip here and a snip there and when you unfold it you’ve got the balcony scene, or the nightingale scene, or the swordfight.  Honestly I’m scared to keep these for myself, because I’d never let my children touch them.  I do wish that they’d come up some some tougher stock for the cutouts, they feel as if they could rip at the slightest page turn.

Which poses a dilemma, because earlier I said that these would make perfect college textbooks.  But the wear and tear that such use would put on them would almost certainly destroy the artwork.  I almost want a coffee table book that truly showcases Stanton’s work, something that I can put out for my guests to enjoy. That way I can feel comfortable about the textbook portion, flipping pages at will, making notes in the margins, without feeling like I’m destroying a piece of art.

HOW DO I WIN ONE?

As I said I have 4 books to giveaway.  Since it is Shakespeare’s Birthday today and I’m going to make several dozen posts, here’s the rules:

• Make a comment on any of today’s (April 23) posts.  The more comments you make, the more entries you can have into the contest (up to a max of 1 comment per post!) Since this contest no doubt will go up earlier in the day don’t forget to come back and make more comments as more posts go up!
• Email me with your username (so I can find your comments) and your preference for which book you’d like.  I make no promises that I’ll be able to satisfy first choices, so please provide your first and second choice.
• Entries must be in the continental US, I’m afraid. As always I’m shipping these out of my own pocket, and this time in particular it’s going to be a strain on  ye olde piggy bank. These things are heavy!
• Contest ends midnight eastern standard time on Sunday April 28 (which happens to be *my* birthday).
• I’ll choose 4 winners at random, and try my best to get everybody their first choice.

Any questions or clarifications please feel free to contact me! As always I must reserve the right to modify the contest in the event of any stupid mistakes, oversights or ambiguities on my part that require clarification.  That’s never been a problem in the past, though I feel obligated to say it each time.

Ok, we good?  Get commenting!

This year’s Shakespeare Day Celebration is sponsored in part by Shakespeare Is Universal: Shakespeare truly is for everyone, and nothing demonstrates that sentiment better than his most famous quote of all, translated here into languages from around the world.   In celebration of Shakespeare’s birthday, show that you believe his works are just as relevant, powerful and important as they’ve ever been!

When Rogert Ebert passed away, I found myself particularly touched when regular contributor JM  signed off a comment with, “Say hello to The Master for us.”

It got me thinking.  What’s Shakespeare to you?  I don’t mean that in a grand philosophical or religious way.  I mean specifically what word do you use to describe your relationship to the bard?  Is he your muse, your idol, your inspiration?

I don’t know how to answer this question (which typically makes for the best questions).  Shakespeare is my … comfort?  Doesn’t do it justice, but that’s close.  I won’t say muse or inspiration or anything like that because I do not look upon my own creative endeavors and think, “I wish I was more like Shakespeare.”

Shakespeare is what I point to when I feel something and can’t adequately express it myself. I know Shakespeare’s been there, and has my back.  Whether it’s grief or romance or anger or sarcasm or ambition or wisdom or any other infinite emotions, I can pull from Shakespeare and think, “Yes, yes, there it is. Precisely.”

When I say he is my comfort I do not mean it in the sense of, “I am trying to communicate with a person, and Shakespeare has saved my bacon (ha!) by making sure that I’m not at a loss for words.”  I mean, “I’m feeling something and I’m trying to explain those feelings to another person who may or may not understand what I’m feeling …  but I know that Shakespeare knew.”

I tagged this blog post because I wanted to see how seriously the author took the question.  Is it one big self-fulfilling answer?  Plays are popular because we learned them all in school, but we learned them in school because they are more popular?  We recognize them because we’ve heard the quotes and seen the movies – but they’re quotable because they’re popular, not popular because they’re quotable.

There doesn’t seem to be a “right” answer.  There are certainly many contributing factors:

* Some plays, just like some books and movies, are better than others.  Everybody’s seen Star Wars, but only hardcore George Lucas fans have sought out THX-1138.  And before James Cameron had The Terminator, he had to deal with Piranha 2 : The Spawning.

* The reasons that some plays are taught more than others has nothing to do with their popularity. Julius Caesar, for instance, is often found in the school system primarily because there’s no sex humor in it for teachers to deal with (unlike Romeo and Juliet).

* Some plays are harder to produce (be it on stage, or screen).  Isn’t Antony and Cleopatra famous for having literally dozens of characters onstage at a time?

I know that there’s no single answer, but I wonder if one side contributes more to the equation than the other.  There are certainly practical issues that cause some plays to be more accessible than others, which in turn will result in more people knowing about those plays, which will result in stronger reinforcement of references from those plays.   That might be about 90% of the reason that we can all do large parts of Romeo and Juliet from memory. It’s because we’ve been beaten over the head with it since high school.

So then what about King Lear?  It’s not as frequently read in high schools.  You don’t see as many movie adaptations.  There is no balcony scene or dude dressed in black talking to a skull that stands out as the iconic scene from this one.  But if you know what the play is at all, you’re likely to agree that it’s the Mt. Everest of Shakespeare’s work.

I’ve always thought that (this will sound cheesy) Shakespeare comes to you when you’re ready for it.  Julius Caesar is an early starting point when students are already studying these real characters from ancient Rome.  And oh hey look at that, Romeo and Juliet pops up when you’re most likely to be your own lovestruck teenager.  Hamlet and his existential crisis hits around college age when you ask your own “Why am I here?” questions.  And Lear?  Lear takes a lifetime to understand.  I know that I couldn’t appreciate it 20 years ago.  Now, as a father (of daughters especially) I can begin to understand it.  Only much later in my life as I approach my retirement and ultimate death will I see it from an even deeper angle.  But there’s no way that your average high school student will *get* that.  Am I making sense?

This year’s Shakespeare Day Celebration is sponsored in part by Shakespeare Is Universal: Shakespeare truly is for everyone, and nothing demonstrates that sentiment better than his most famous quote of all, translated here into languages from around the world.   In celebration of Shakespeare’s birthday, show that you believe his works are just as relevant, powerful and important as they’ve ever been!

Stratford Man

by Willie “Shakespeare” Joel, Shakespeare Geek, and Bardfilm

If you want tributes to Mr. Shakespeare you need to start with Ben Johnson’s “To the Memory of My Beloved the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare and What He Hath Left Us” :

TO draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name,
Am I thus ample to thy book and fame;
While I confess thy writings to be such
As neither man nor Muse can praise too much.
’Tis true, and all men’s suffrage. But these ways
Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise;
For seeliest Ignorance on these may light,
Which, when it sounds at best, but echoes right;
Or blind Affection, which doth ne’er advance
The truth, but gropes and urgeth all by chance;
Or crafty Malice might pretend this praise,
And think to ruin where it seem’d to raise.
These are as some infamous bawd or whore
Should praise a matron. What could hurt her more?
But thou art proof against them, and, indeed,
Above the ill-fortune of them, or the need.
I, therefore, will begin. Soul of the age!
The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage,
My Shakespeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by
Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie
A little further, to make thee a room:
Thou art a monument without a tomb,
And art alive still, while thy book doth live,
And we have wits to read, and praise to give.
That I not mix thee so, my brain excuses;
I mean, with great but disproportion’d Muses.
For, if I thought my judgment were of years,
I should commit thee, surely, with thy peers.
And tell how far thou didst our Lyly outshine,
Or sporting Kyd, or Marlowe’s mighty line.
And though thou hadst small Latin and less Greek,
From thence, to honour thee, I would not seek
For names; but call forth thund’ring Aeschylus,
Euripides, and Sophocles to us,
Paccuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead
To life again, to hear thy buskin tread
And shake a stage; or when thy socks were on,
Leave thee alone, for the comparison
Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome
Sent forth; or since did from their ashes come.
Triumph, my Britain! Thou hast one to show
To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe.
He was not of an age, but for all time!
And all the Muses still were in their prime,
When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm
Our ears, or, like a Mercury, to charm.
Nature herself was proud of his designs,
And joy’d to wear the dressing of his lines,
Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit
As, since, she will vouchsafe no other wit.
The merry Greek, tart Aristophanes,
Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not please;
But antiquated and deserted lie,
As they were not of Nature’s family.
Yet must I not give Nature all! Thy art,
My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part.
For though the Poet’s matter Nature be
His art doth give the fashion. And that he
Who casts to write a living line, must sweat
(Such as thine are), and strike the second heat
Upon the Muses’ anvil, turn the same
(And himself with it), that he thinks to frame;
Or for the laurel he may gain a scorn!
For a good Poet’s made as well as born;
And such wert thou! Look how the father’s face
Lives in his issue; even so, the race
Of Shakespeare’s mind and manners brightly shines
In his well-turnèd and true-filèd lines;
In each of which he seems to shake a lance
As brandish’d at the eyes of Ignorance.
Sweet Swan of Avon! what a sight it were
To see thee in our water yet appear,
And make those flights upon the banks of Thames
That so did take Eliza, and our James!
But stay, I see thee in the hemisphere
Advanc’d, and made a constellation there!
Shine forth, thou star of poets, and with rage
Or influence, chide, or cheer the drooping stage;
Which since thy flight from hence hath mourn’d like night,
And despairs day, but for thy volume’s light.

What’s your favorite part?  Every time I read it I spot something different.  This year my eye is drawn, as you could perhaps imagine from my chosen subject line, “My Shakepeare, rise!”  It feels to me like a testament to the Master’s immortality, the idea that in death he became something even greater than he’d been in life.  (Perhaps not what Mr. Jonson meant, but I don’t claim it is).