Archive for January, 2009

Shakespeare, sorta

I’m kind of drawing a blank on any interesting biographical bits to share about the Bard today.  There are lots of interesting factoids about him; I’m just not really in the “researching” state of mind at the moment, and nothing comes immediately to mind.

The Globe Theatre, where Shakespeare’s plays were famously performed, burned down as the result of a cannon misfire.  There, how’s that?

Meh… on to the weekly sonnet.

Sonnet 22

My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in thee time’s furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee,
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O! therefore love, be of thyself so wary
As I, not for myself, but for thee will;
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
      Presume not on th’ heart when mine is slain,
      Thou gav’st me thine not to give back again.

What I get out of it

Shakespeare is considering his increasing age as he writes this poem.  He could, at this point in his life, be feeling the ravages of time (or any other cliché you might care to use), but he refuses to be negative about his own lost youth.  He says that his mirror, or “glass,” won’t make him feel depressed about growing “old”… at least, not yet.

“So long” as the object of the poem has his or her “youth,” Shakespeare claims that he won’t feel old.  When “time’s furrows” appear on the young person’s face, on the other hand, the poet feels that “death” will bring an end to his “days.”

The poem’s metaphors get a little more complicated as Shakespeare explains that his own heart lives in the heart of the youngster to whom the poem is addressed, and the younger heart lives within Shakespeare’s “breast.”  The “beauty” that appears in the young man or woman’s face therefore is “raiment,” or clothing, for the poet’s heart.  “How,” we are asked, can Shakespeare “then be elder” than the youthful body which contains his heart?

I’m thinking that this might be one of the more tangled sonnets I’ve discussed here.  The tangling continues:  Shakespeare promises to be “wary” (cautious) with his own body - as cautious as a “tender nurse” is cautious with “her babe” — not to preserve his own life, but rather to protect the youngster’s heart beating in his chest.  Likewise, he would appreciate some care taken for his own heart.

To understand the last couplet, I admit, I sought help.  I wasn’t sure in what sense “presume” was being used.  It appears that after the tender expression of love Shakespeare offers in the first dozen lines, he throws in one brief admonition:  if my heart (in your body) is “slain,” don’t expect to get yours back.  You “gav’st me” your heart freely, and I don’t intend “to give [it] back again.”  This might, possibly, be just a hint of a threat… if your carelessness or infidelity breaks my heart, I can do as I please with the heart you have given me.

Is it relevant?

I don’t know the average ages of my readers, but even I (who am still young) have felt years younger while watching or interacting with a child.  Grandparents and parents often say that playing with children makes them feel young again.  Shakespeare is expressing similar sentiments to the object of his poem.

Once again, a sonnet which is usually labeled as a love poem could also represent an expression of familial love.  I’ve probably mentioned before that, whatever Shakespeare’s relationship with his wife, he apparently loved his children dearly.  The first dozen lines could be a way of letting his children know that they make him feel young again… and the closing couplet could be a warning that they’d better make the old man proud.

Or not.  It probably is a romantic poem.  It’s just fun, sometimes, to look for other applications.  Shakespeare was a complicated man, and I hate making assumptions about what he had in mind.

Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life. — Proverbs 4:23

(Photo credit and license)

Two new Wordpress errors:  if you see the “financial advice” post appear in your feed, it’s not supposed to have gone public yet… and if you see this post doing anything weird, it’s because Wordpress is giving me fits with posting at the correct times.

Now that I’ve finished whining, on to the post…

“It wasn’t written like I thought it would be,” he said.

“How so?” I asked, although I had warned him the book isn’t what most people expect.

“I thought it would be written from Dracula’s point of view,” he said. “Instead it’s written from Jonathan’s.”

Written fr… what?

Then I remembered which generation I was dealing with, and it all made sense.

Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series is now at the height of its popularity (the cynic in me expects the books to be “so yesterday” in a year or two). In case your personal world has been teenager-free for the last twelve months or so, Twilight is about a teenage girl named Bella Swan who falls in love with Edward Cullen, who happens to be a vampire.

Part of me is rolling its proverbial eyes right now.

Part of me wants to send Meyer a thank-you note for getting teens to read.

The English teacher in me is taking full advantage of the situation by pushing my students to read Wuthering Heights, which (according to Wikipedia) is Bella’s favorite book, and Dracula, the granddaddy of all modern vampire novels.

So this obliging young man had paid a visit to our school’s media center and checked out a copy of Bram Stoker’s novel. About a quarter of the way through the book, he commented that he was surprised the narrative wasn’t from Dracula’s point of view.

It’s a Victorian vampire novel, I thought. Why on Earth would it be written from Dracula’s point of view?

Then I realized my confusion was the result of a generation gap. From this fifteen-year-old’s perspective, it made perfect sense for Dracula’s voice to carry the narrative forward. After all, teens and vampires have a lot in common.

…Now, after I make that statement, your reaction indicates your age. If you’re old enough, you’re thinking something like, “Did he just say that? Holy crap… he really doesn’t like teenagers, does he?”

If you’re young enough, on the other hand, you’re thinking, “Well, duh, I mean, vampires rock. I wish I could be one!”

Think about it. Vampires get to stay out all night, sleep all day, and wear all black. Vampires captivate their prey with forceful and often rather sexy charisma. Vampires are, like, dark and gothic and wicked. They’re the rock stars of the undead.

On the other hand, Stoker’s narrator (Jonathan Harker) is a bloomin’ lawyer. Not. Cool. At. All.

My student was fully enjoying the novel, however, and I expect he finished it over Christmas break. Too bad I couldn’t be there when he encountered the character Renfield, who is possibly the coolest vampire-groupie ever.

Never read Bram Stoker’s Dracula? As I told my student (and as he discovered), it’s really not what most people expect. Modern vampire fiction is mostly a pale, cliché-ridden, and rather juvenile imitation of the original. Go buy it… or if you’re strapped for cash, Project Gutenberg has text and audio downloads for free. So you really have no excuse.

Likewise, you might be surprised by Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights if you haven’t picked it up yet. Project Gutenberg can help you out again with the text, but you might have to visit LibriVox to get the audio download.

Now, go read.

One thing vampire children are taught is, never run with a wooden stake. — Jack Handey

We’re back.

Our late-honeymoon trip to Pigeon Forge was quite memorable.  The theme of the trip, apparently, was “apples.”

We stayed in a cabin called “Apple Blossom” by the rental company.  Ironically, I didn’t notice any apple blossoms anywhere in the decor… but with apple doorknobs, quilts, knickknacks, and a gigantic apple statue scattered in and around the cabin, I think it may have earned at least half of its name.

Then one morning we discovered a whole cluster of shops and restaurants named Apple this-or-that… the Apple Barn, the Applewood Farmhouse, and so forth.  The Farmhouse served what might be the best breakfast in Sevier County, where the primary (and almost the only) source of income is the tourist trade.  While seemingly nine out of ten restaurants seemed to have either “Pancake” or “Flapjack” (or, occasionally, both) in the name, the Applewood Farmhouse was a breath of fresh, appley air.

The first thing we noticed is that, in comparison to our cabin’s decor, the restaurant’s interior was virtually apple-free.

The second thing we noticed was the huge basket of apple fritters plunked down in front of us by the waitress.

What is a fritter, anyway?  Whatever it is, these were GOOD.

The third thing we noticed was that the complimentary juice wasn’t orange juice.  Rather, it was a blend of pineapple, lemon, orange, and… you guessed it… apple.  It was also quite tasty.

The fourth and final thing we noticed was the amazingly good food served up for breakfast — some of which didn’t actually contain fruit.

We really must go back.

More details in later posts, probably.

Happy New Year.  I’ll get back to my regular blogging activities now that my schedule has returned to the routine.  Oh, and photos will arrive in good time (we didn’t take many, but the good ones are all on old-fashioned film which hasn’t been developed yet).