Shakespeare and Me

“Last scene of all, 

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion,

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”

(from the comedy As You Like It)

I just bought a book, Shakespeare and Me, a collection of essays by writers, actors and directors on what The Bard means to them.  It inspired me to write this brief essay about Shakespeare through my ages.

I am awed by Shakespeare.  His craftsmanship with language is unparalleled. He turns words into magic. He turns iambic pentameter into soaring oratory and dialogue.  The quality of his plots varies greatly.  But the quality of his character development is unmatched.  Before there was 'psychology', Shakespeare led us into the minds of his characters with clarity, subtlety and depth. No author, poet or playwright has ever done that better.

My first encounter with Shakespeare was at age 7 or 8. My parents took me to a production of Macbeth.  Before going, they had me read a child friendly synopsis of the play.  Even so, I don’t know how much I actually understood, but I thought the three witches were pretty cool with their, “double double toil and trouble.”  At the end of the play the good guys win and the bad guy is dead.  As far as I knew, it was a happy ending.

My very first course in college was “Shakespeare on Film,” taught by the internationally known scholar Samuel Schoenbaum.  Among the movies I remember from that class was a 1935 Busby Berkeley version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream with Mickey Rooney playing Puck, as well as a 1957 Japanese samurai retelling of Macbeth called Throne of Blood.

Throughout college, I continued to take electives in Shakespeare.  I still have the paper I wrote about The Tempest and my interpretation of its dark comedic irony.  Miranda was naïve and sadly misguided when she proclaimed, “O wonder!  How many goodly creatures are there here!  How beauteous mankind is!  O brave new world that has such people in’t!”  I was learning to read Shakespeare between the lines, with an ear tuned to the ironic.

When I studied Neurology in London, I saw Shakespeare performed at The Globe in Stratford-upon-Avon.  When I did my residency in Ann Arbor, I saw outstanding productions of Shakespeare at the annual festival in Stratford, Ontario. Since then, wherever I lived, I sought out any and all local Shakespeare productions.

On our second date, I took Sue to a production of Romeo and Juliet.  It turned out to be a punk interpretation, performed on skates.  It was hardly Shakespeare, but it was a good conversation starter.  For our honeymoon, I took Sue to the Shakespeare Festival back in Stratford, Ontario.  Good Shakespeare.  Good honeymoon.

When my youngest daughter was studying Hamlet in High School, I read out loud to her each night, explaining and interpreting as we went along.  Hamlet is my favorite of the plays, a play I have read on countless occasions, seen on stage many times, each time discovering new meaning and nuance.  I was proud of us both when my daughter told me that she got the only A in her class on the Hamlet test.

How are things with 'Shakespeare and Me' at this age?  Shakespeare wearies me.  As I get older, Shakespeare’s writings get darker.  There is no optimism in his plays, even in his comedies.  There are few characters that ascend, and many that fall.  There are few that are wise, and many that are fools.  Some characters have their great moments, but most have their deep and tragic flaws. There are no sustained victories and no heroes.  Would any of the essayists in my new book disagree?

I read less Shakespeare now. Maybe my age being what it is, maybe the state of the world being what it is, I have less resilience for Shakespeare’s darkness and pessimism.  Like the 8-year-old boy I once was I want to believe that there can still be happy endings.