- Feb 3, 2024
- LitBits
- 0
New blog post by Vagabond Heart
WTF, Will! parts 36 – 37
Unbelievably, after nearly six months, I had almost come to the end of the complete works of Shakespeare. That lockdown challenge had proved hard to do sometimes, but also impossible to stop. And now I had just two last plays before hurling myself into some lesser known poems and the oft-quoted sonnets.
36. The Tempest
All it is, right, is there was this Duke and his toddler daughter, who narrowly escaped death by fleeing Milan in a ship (yes, I know Milan’s not on the coast, but Shakespeare‘s geography was a bit wibbly, so bear with). It promptly got wrecked on an unknown island, but luckily for them, the island was teeming with magic spirits who could do anything he asked of them.
But here’s the thing, what he NEVER asked them to do was build him a new boat.
Instead, he waited thirteen years until all his enemies were in one ship nearby, then sent a storm to wreck that too.
Despite this, he was actually a good dad by Shakespearean standards. He loved his daughter and wanted her to be happy.
Now, I’m not saying he didn’t sort things so that the nice man he wanted her to marry just conveniently washed up on shore, cos he definitely did.
But I get the impression that if she’d said ‘not a chance, mate’ he’d have coped without applying the usual (forcing her to marry/sending her to a nunnery/requesting permission to kill her).
A weird bit, tho, is that nobody mentioned her mother in the whole of the play, apart from one line. So I’d no idea if she was dead or alive as no one seemed to care.
Also, surprisingly, right at the point where dad, Prospero, could exact a proper Shakespearean revenge on his enemies, he chose instead to relinquish his power in favour of forgiveness and generosity. And then he asked the magic spirits to fix up the boat (now, dude? Really? Like you’ve only just thought of it?).
There were a couple of super-famous lines: –
‘O brave new world, that has such people in’t!’ (Poor Miranda: she’d grown up on a desert island with only her dad, and had just seen a load of rank, old, sailors for the first time. Steady, girl)
And ‘We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.’ (The ever-philosophical Prospero)
But my favourite had got to be this, from the idiot Trinculo,after having been stuck in a bog: ‘I do smell all horse-piss, at which my nose is in great indignation.’ Well, it would be, mate, it would be.
6/10 because it trundles along nicely and Forbidden Planet was based on it.
Then, oh shit, another sodding Henry. Well, at least one of the previous ones had delivered a hella rousing speech, so maybe this would have some surprises?
37. King Henry VIII
Well, no. This was less of an historical play and more of a propaganda mission with exceedingly nice frocks.
It kicked off with a prologue that said don’t even think about enjoying this, cos you won’t. And ended with an epilogue that said I told you you wouldn’t like it. And, to be fair, they weren’t entirely wrong.
It is believed to have been written as a collaboration with Shakespeare’s successor, John Fletcher. And it certainly came across as having been assembled by two guys who really should have spoken to each other more.
It’s not that bad, but for a play about Henry he kinda got the short straw. Not for him the heroic deeds or heart-stopping speeches of the older ‘Henrys’. He was just painted as a randy idiot who was easily led. Oh, ok, that bit’s accurate then.
But the women did well here. Katherine of Aragon was shown as noble, long-suffering, and wise, and Anne Bullen was actually described as a saint! Which, you’ve got to admit, was stretching it a bit. Just ask Hillary Mantel.
The best thing about it was knowing that on about its third performance they used cannons to pump up the spectacle, managed to set The Globe Theatre on fire, and burnt it to the ground. That’s a proper critical review, that is.
1/10
And that was it for the plays. I’d read them all and I was jubilant. Then it was on to the poems, of which I knew next to nothing. Would they enchant me, or leave me wanting to chew my own face off? Find out next time.
---
WTF, Will! parts 36 – 37
Unbelievably, after nearly six months, I had almost come to the end of the complete works of Shakespeare. That lockdown challenge had proved hard to do sometimes, but also impossible to stop. And now I had just two last plays before hurling myself into some lesser known poems and the oft-quoted sonnets.
36. The Tempest
All it is, right, is there was this Duke and his toddler daughter, who narrowly escaped death by fleeing Milan in a ship (yes, I know Milan’s not on the coast, but Shakespeare‘s geography was a bit wibbly, so bear with). It promptly got wrecked on an unknown island, but luckily for them, the island was teeming with magic spirits who could do anything he asked of them.
But here’s the thing, what he NEVER asked them to do was build him a new boat.
Instead, he waited thirteen years until all his enemies were in one ship nearby, then sent a storm to wreck that too.
Despite this, he was actually a good dad by Shakespearean standards. He loved his daughter and wanted her to be happy.
Now, I’m not saying he didn’t sort things so that the nice man he wanted her to marry just conveniently washed up on shore, cos he definitely did.
But I get the impression that if she’d said ‘not a chance, mate’ he’d have coped without applying the usual (forcing her to marry/sending her to a nunnery/requesting permission to kill her).
A weird bit, tho, is that nobody mentioned her mother in the whole of the play, apart from one line. So I’d no idea if she was dead or alive as no one seemed to care.
Also, surprisingly, right at the point where dad, Prospero, could exact a proper Shakespearean revenge on his enemies, he chose instead to relinquish his power in favour of forgiveness and generosity. And then he asked the magic spirits to fix up the boat (now, dude? Really? Like you’ve only just thought of it?).
There were a couple of super-famous lines: –
‘O brave new world, that has such people in’t!’ (Poor Miranda: she’d grown up on a desert island with only her dad, and had just seen a load of rank, old, sailors for the first time. Steady, girl)
And ‘We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.’ (The ever-philosophical Prospero)
But my favourite had got to be this, from the idiot Trinculo,after having been stuck in a bog: ‘I do smell all horse-piss, at which my nose is in great indignation.’ Well, it would be, mate, it would be.
6/10 because it trundles along nicely and Forbidden Planet was based on it.
Then, oh shit, another sodding Henry. Well, at least one of the previous ones had delivered a hella rousing speech, so maybe this would have some surprises?
37. King Henry VIII
Well, no. This was less of an historical play and more of a propaganda mission with exceedingly nice frocks.
It kicked off with a prologue that said don’t even think about enjoying this, cos you won’t. And ended with an epilogue that said I told you you wouldn’t like it. And, to be fair, they weren’t entirely wrong.
It is believed to have been written as a collaboration with Shakespeare’s successor, John Fletcher. And it certainly came across as having been assembled by two guys who really should have spoken to each other more.
It’s not that bad, but for a play about Henry he kinda got the short straw. Not for him the heroic deeds or heart-stopping speeches of the older ‘Henrys’. He was just painted as a randy idiot who was easily led. Oh, ok, that bit’s accurate then.
But the women did well here. Katherine of Aragon was shown as noble, long-suffering, and wise, and Anne Bullen was actually described as a saint! Which, you’ve got to admit, was stretching it a bit. Just ask Hillary Mantel.
The best thing about it was knowing that on about its third performance they used cannons to pump up the spectacle, managed to set The Globe Theatre on fire, and burnt it to the ground. That’s a proper critical review, that is.
1/10
And that was it for the plays. I’d read them all and I was jubilant. Then it was on to the poems, of which I knew next to nothing. Would they enchant me, or leave me wanting to chew my own face off? Find out next time.
---
* Like this post? Click the Like button here
* Start your own blog here
