"There don't seem to be any romantic comedies playing today, but we found out that the Rivertowne Players are doing Macbeth in New Bern. So I'm taking my Valentine to see one of Shakespeare's bloodiest and most horrific plays."
As readers of this blog will know by now, I have an unusually avid appreciation for Shakespeare, and indeed this is one of his most unusual tragedies. It is incredible to think that this play was written over 400 years ago, yet here it is being performed by a troupe of amateur players on a stage less than an hour from here. Perhaps it may be even more relevant than ever in this period of powerful ambition playing out on the Stage of our current political primary elections! I hope the players will do as Shakespeare himself advised in Hamlet:
"Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion
be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the
word to the action; with this special o'erstep not
the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is
from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the
first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the
mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature,
scorn her own image, and the very age and body of
the time his form and pressure."
And so, onward we go, to the early 17th Century, to learn why in the end we still have a fascination for this bloody murderer from early Scottish history who spoke some of the most beautiful and devastating words in the English language:
"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
Happy Valentine's Day!
No comments:
Post a Comment